As she’d predicted, Marc ordered the caviar and champagne. When they arrived, he took out his phone, placed the two glasses of sparkling golden alcohol side by side and the caviar in front, framing the photo just so, before uploading it to his social media accounts. He was an avid social media user, justifying it by saying it helped business.

In Edulis, sharing caviar & champagne with my sexy, stunning girlfriend. Seven courses of Epicurean delights to follow. #HappyChristmasToAll.

‘Let’s take a selfie,’ he suggested, raising his glass to her.

‘Stop showing off,’ she said lightly, clinking her glass to his.

‘Why not? This is a go-to restaurant. One of the Diners Club “World’s 50 Best”. Why not show everyone how far we’ve come? And we’re going much further, too. Next stop Noo Yark!’ He grinned at her, and in spite of her misery Marie-Claire laughed, because that was one of the things she’d loved about him. He could always make her laugh.

She leaned sideways across the small table, champagne flute in hand, and he did likewise, their heads touching. Marie-Claire smiled. Suck this up, bioch, she thought, beaming for the camera. She hoped Amelia would choke on her supper when she saw Marc’s tweets and photos.

‘So tell me about the funeral,’ she said, nibbling on the caviar, once the waiter had taken their order.

‘It was incredibly difficult,’ Marc scowled. ‘You know there’s bad feeling between the families because my aunt was divorced and had a second family? Francine got cranky with me because I offered condolences to Raimondi, and . . .’

She listened to him describe what sounded like the funeral from hell and wondered what he would do if she suddenly said, ‘I couldn’t give a flying fuck about your crappy family and I know all about you shagging Amelia and giving her Tiffany love hearts and planning a trip to Niagara.’

Don’t play the victim, she warned herself silently, taking care not to glug her champagne and loosen her inhibitions and resolve.

Marie-Claire ate the food that was set in front of her, the shucked, grilled scallops, the bass with porcini mushrooms and Brussels sprout leaves, and might as well have been eating sawdust. Marc wolfed his grilled prawns and milk-fed lamb, telling her that the offerings served after the funeral wouldn’t have filled a gnat. He didn’t even notice that she was toying with her food and not matching his drinking.

‘I’m so glad we did this. What a fabulous meal!’ he enthused as they sipped a postprandial brandy – which had also been photographed and sent off into social media ether.