He watched her, talking, laughing, being coy, enjoying herself. He tried to catch her eye but she deliberately avoided him. She came back with a third brandy and set it on the table in front of him, and was about to move away when he grabbed her hand.

“Let’s get away from here,” he pleaded with her.

“I’d rather stay for a while,” she said. “Just give me a little longer.”

“Suit yourself,” he said.

“If you want to go, why don’t you go on?”

He did not reply.

“Look, if it’s going to be a problem I’ll go now.”

“Suit yourself,” he shouted.

“Hi, pal! There’s no call for that.”

“Look,” decided Catherine, stepping down gracefully off the stool, “I’d better go with him. I have an early start tomorrow anyway.”

“Enjoy your holiday, Catherine,” the director said.

“Thank you,” she said, giggling nervously.

“Jonathan,” a woman cried, “don’t be running.”

“Some day,” Jack said, “I’ll see the funny side of this.”

The minute they were outside the hotel Catherine suddenly ran away from him. He ran after her. Then he stopped. He went back to the bar of the hotel. The men deliberately tried to avoid him when he appeared. They looked behind him at the swinging door, waiting for Catherine’s return. Then, astonished and uncomfortable, they threw him wary glances as they tried to turn back to their conversation. He stood unconcerned, silently drinking beside them, as if they were not there.

Looking away they talked knowingly of the film world. They joked disparagingly about famous actors. Just then, Catherine returned. She was so shocked to see Jack still there that she stood uncertain for a moment with the door ajar. He smiled across at her. “Catherine,” called one of the men but, abashed, she closed the door. Jack ordered another pint. He began a loud conversation about the nature of the salmon’s radar system with the barman.

Then, from out of nowhere, Hugh appeared.

“Is that you, Jack?” he said.

“Can I have a lift home with you?”

“Sure thing. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll have a brandy.”

Hugh came back with a brandy and crème-de-menthe for Jack and an orange for himself. He waited a few moments and said: “How are things?”

“So-so.”

“Well, just remember you are not alone.”

“I’ll remember that.”

They drove back through the black night. He fell asleep in the front of the car and swayed gently in the safety belt. At Corrloch Hugh woke him.

He got out and rapped the top of the car.

“Here,” said Hugh, and he handed him Catherine’s shopping bags. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes, I will. Thanks.”