Something happened, something startling, crystal clear – the bright whiteness of the store lights, the voice of a ‘Staff announcement’, the smell of cold above the meat display. The mundanity of it all, and the absolute extraordinariness. It happened and it was like a body blow, in its complete unexpectedness, and the effect it had on him, so that for a moment he couldn’t speak.

‘How are you?’

He looked into his empty basket, then hers, with meat, a few vegetables, a bottle of olive oil, a pack of washing powder, and every item locked into place in his memory.

‘Simon?’ She was laughing. ‘You were miles away!’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Actually, that’s the last thing I was. I was right here. When I saw it was you, I couldn’t have been anywhere else.’

‘Excuse me, are you in the queue?’

‘So sorry, no, we’re not.’ He took Rachel’s arm and they moved sideways.

‘Weren’t you going to get something?’

‘Yes, a steak. But I’m not now.’

She looked at him, and he saw it in her face, too

That face. The same as he had first seen among the silver and the champagne glasses and chandeliers of the banqueting hall.

‘Where would you like to go for dinner?’ he said.

Sixty-Six

‘I’m sorry,’ Simon said.

‘What on earth for? This is perfect.’

‘Almost. I did try, but it’s a new maître d’, and however much I pleaded, table 6 was booked and he couldn’t change it.’

Rachel raised her glass and the champagne caught the light, the surface broke into a thousand pieces. ‘I don’t mind where we sit. When were we last here?’

‘Too long ago.’

‘Perhaps too long was right. I mean . . .’

‘I hope you know what you mean.’

She frowned slightly. ‘I want to get my words straight.’

A couple came past them, going out. Two women went to the bar. Somewhere backstage, the crash of a tray being dropped, and instantly silenced. Simon had the sense of being out of time and in a different reality, and yet completely in this one, the rarest, most longed-for of senses.

‘I just mean a long time was necessary. Anyway, it isn’t that long.’

‘It only feels that way?’

Rachel smiled but did not reply, and they were interrupted by the waiter, offering menus, which Simon waved away. ‘We want a bit longer. Is that all right?’

‘Of course.’ He refilled their glasses. ‘Take all the time you like.’

‘Time,’ Simon said.

Rachel looked at him. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Work stuff. Not here and not now.’

‘I read the papers, you know. I watch the news.’

‘Even so. There are better things to talk about anyway.’

‘Such as?’

‘I think I’m buying a house.’

Was he?

‘Thinking about it?’

‘As you do. Or as you do.’

‘Do I?’

‘OK. I do. God, I’m ravenous.’