‘Yeah, first time. I’m cramming in my sightseeing at the weekends. After work I’m going straight back to my hotel and crashing out. The room-service staff and I are on first-name terms.’

Although he’s gently jesting, I feel a stab of pity. It sounds like a pretty lonely experience in a new city.

‘I would offer to have you over for dinner sometime, but…’ I don’t need to point out that he wouldn’t be welcome.

He looks down at the table. ‘How is Lachie?’ he asks after a moment.

Does he know for certain that we’re still together? Has anyone told him? Has he asked?

‘He’s great,’ I reply, forcing what I hope is an easy smile, despite my nerves. ‘Still the same, still gigging. He’s got so many weddings on these days.’

He leans back in his seat and folds his arms, his foot accidentally kicking mine. We both quickly move out of each other’s way.

‘What about you?’ he asks. ‘Are you still doing wedding photography?’

I wrinkle my nose. ‘Not really. Not at all, if I’m honest.’

His eyebrows pull together. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ He sounds genuinely regretful.

‘Bridget is getting married next summer. She’s asked me to do hers.’

‘Oh, wow!’

‘Yeah. I should probably get some practice in before then.’

‘Surely it’s like riding a bike…’

I shrug. ‘Maybe.’

Neither of us says anything for a long moment. I avert my gaze only to come back a second later to meet his eyes again. He smiles a small smile. ‘It’s good to see you. I wasn’t sure we’d get to catch up.’

I shake my head. ‘Me neither. Lachie persuaded me, actually.’

His eyebrows practically hit his hairline.

I can’t help but let out a little laugh. ‘Apparently I’ve been tetchy as hell and this is my one chance to put it all behind me. I think his actual words were, “Once he’s gone, he’s gone. Hopefully for good.” ’

Alex winces and looks away. ‘Fair enough.’

Another long silence ensues.

‘I’m sorry if my trip here has stressed you out,’ he says eventually, glancing at me.

‘It’s okay. It’s actually nice to see you.’

His look becomes disbelieving, and then he makes a frustrated sound and leans forward again. ‘Yeah,’ he says quietly, biting his lip.

Luckily, the waitress brings over our food at that point, so we have something to distract us.

We talk about little things as we eat – about the people we know, the magazines that have closed down and the ones that aren’t doing too badly, and my old boss Simon, who’s apparently married now with a baby on the way. Eventually, I feel at ease enough to ask about his personal life.

‘How about you? Marriage again? Kids?’

He shakes his head. ‘No. Zara remarried, though. Had a whirlwind fling with some hotshot American advertising exec last summer. She’s settled in New York.’

‘You okay about that?’

‘More than okay. I’m pleased she’s happy.’ He sounds completely sincere.