She stalled long enough, raising the iced water they had ordered to her lips, that by the time it was necessary to answer, the waiter had appeared again with a tray of sashimi and vegetables carved to look like exotic birds.

‘This looks beautiful,’ she said and Ivan nodded, ignoring the food and staring across the table at her. It was the first moment she had considered what she must look like to him, in the clothes she picked out every morning to fit the image of the competent mother-of-two, off to King Charles Street to oversee a busy department of civil servants.

How could she have known this morning as she absent-mindedly selected a pale pink shirt and navy ribbed sweater, the black Whistles trousers she had bought herself in the sale on her birthday, where she would end up?

‘So, tell me about yourself,’ she said once the waiter had disappeared into the darkness of the dining room.

Ivan made a few movements with his mouth, indicating that he was either working out how to explain it, or how most effectively to evade the subject.

‘I suppose you would say I’m an entrepreneur, which is a way of saying I do everything and nothing. Mainly I work in sustainable energy. I know it sounds terribly boring but it’s interesting – to me, at least – and lucrative. Although I don’t think you’re supposed to say things like that in England, are you? Too distasteful. I also run charities, as you know … and which you definitely can say in England …’

She smiled.

‘And how about you, are you still with Amnesty International?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not anymore. The one I’m with now is much smaller. I suppose I’m like you, a bit of this, bit of that.’

Gabriela picked at a piece of sushi with her chopsticks and counted the seconds in her head as the time passed and Ivan said nothing to call her out on her lie.

After a moment he said, ‘Shall I ask for a fork?’

She laughed and flashed her middle finger at him before picking up some rice she’d been hopelessly chasing around her plate between her fingers and popping it in her mouth. ‘No thanks, I’m fine as I am.’

Ivan nodded, his eyes locking hers. ‘Yes, you are.’

Her fingers had fumbled with the keys in the lock as she pushed open the front door to her house later that night, tentatively at first. Stepping inside, she saw that the lights in the living room were off. Closing her eyes for a moment in silent prayer, she walked forward, removing her shoes, holding the bannister to steady herself.