Fiona cleared her throat. ‘Thank you for that news report, Sarah,’ she said easily. ‘The big news here on “Love in the Afternoon” is that a sparkling wine from Derbyshire-based Butterworth’s has beaten a bottle of French champagne in a taste test, according to Thomas Devine. A man who until today was a staunch believer that English sparkling wine can’t compete with our European cousins and has no place on wine lists across the UK. This must be quite a triumph for the English wine world, Olivia?’

‘It’s certainly confirmation of what we already knew,’ Olivia replied. ‘And hopefully an indication of a mood swing in the restaurant world.’

‘English wines are starting to appear more frequently on wine lists,’ I said. ‘A trend I hope to see continue.’

Thomas swallowed, his eyes darting towards the door as if contemplating his escape. Now was my moment, I mused. I could have dropped him in it. But I decided not to. I had an advantage and I was determined to press it home.

Fiona hadn’t seen the photo on my phone, but she had picked up on a change in energy between Thomas and me.

‘Lottie, you’re obviously very passionate about your wines; what do you think the future holds?’

‘Wines, not just sparkling, but still wines, are emerging from all over Britain. We might not be the most experienced winemakers in the world, we might not be able to grow the range of grape varieties that lots of other countries can. But we’re learning all the time. Year after year we’re getting better at what we do. And Thomas …’ I leaned forward to hold his gaze, oblivious to the fact I was on national radio broadcasting to thousands. Right now, my audience was one man alone. ‘What we need is people in influential places to help us. Having someone to believe in us makes all the difference, don’t you agree? A champion?’

I’d done my research into Thomas Devine and I was paraphrasing his words from a recent newspaper interview. Thomas had been brought up in poverty. And then he’d had a spot of good fortune: aged sixteen his talent had been spotted by the millionaire owner of the local football club where’d he’d played for their junior team. Not as a footballer, his skills were only just above average, but as a kid with a fire in his belly. Thomas referred to that man as his champion; he’d supported him through college and lent him the money to set up his first burger van outside the football ground. And Thomas had repaid the man’s faith in him a hundredfold.

And if Butterworth Wines and myriad other vineyards around the country were going to hit the next level, we’d benefit from that same good fortune, that same faith in us.

‘Thomas?’ Fiona prompted.