Earlier, I’d immersed myself in Kallie’s YouTube, trying to garner clues about her relationship with Luke. But as her songs veered from angsty ballads to tender love songs, it was hard to get a fix on things. Her voice, though, was light and attractively mournful.

‘Jesus, look at this!’ Claire had found a video of floaty-frocked Kallie on a high stool with a guitar. ‘Let’s have a listen.’ But she cast a hunted look around the temple to gastronomy. ‘…And maybe not.’

‘Ahem.’ A polite cough from the waiter heralded the arrival of our I Dream of Blini course and both Quin and Claire morphed into photographers, taking dozens of photos of their food, then uploading them to Insta.

Briefly, I considered copying them before deciding that I couldn’t be bothered. Instagram was a pain. The only stuff I was ever enthusiastic about posting was pictures of Crunchie.

Much later, we’d just finished our Seabuckthorn Seven Ways (dehydrated, jellied, frozen, charred, puréed, stewed and ‘reversed’) when my phone rang. The disapproval of the entire restaurant hit me—who was the woman who let her phone ring during an intense gourmet experience?

‘LUKE’ flashed on my screen.

My heart almost jumped from my chest.

‘Another burst condom?’ Quin asked.

I got up, moving towards the door. ‘Sorry, lads, I better take this.’ Then, ‘Hello?’

‘Rachel? It’s Luke.’ Hearing his voice was still very strange. ‘Kallie told me about today. I’m sorry you were involved.’

Was he…? He was blaming me, wasn’t he? Somehow it was my fault that his girlfriend had asked for my help.

‘Thank you for helping her out,’ he said. ‘It was decent of you.’

‘Is this sarcasm?’

‘No. It was decent of you.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ It took a few moments for my indignation to die down. ‘It’s fine.’

‘She shouldn’t have bothered you. There were other people who could have helped her.’

Was he telling me that she had been checking me out? Well, whatever. We’d met and nothing terrible had happened.

‘So, aaah…how’s your dad? Any luck with finding a carer?’

‘Not yet. He’s being an arse, probably on purpose—’

Suddenly Quin was at my side. ‘Everything okay? They’re about to serve the Fermented Hay.’

I nodded at him, then spoke into the phone. ‘I’ve to go.’

‘Enjoy your…’ Luke paused. ‘…fermented hay. And thank you. Again, not sarcasm.’

The rest of the night passed without incident, until right at the end when Claire was in the ladies, Quin was sorting the coats and, briefly, I was alone with Adam.

‘Rachel.’ There was something urgent in his tone. ‘Have you heard about Claire and me becoming swingers?’

‘Yes.’ I frowned. ‘But—it’s only theoretical?’

‘You know your sister, though. Once she gets an idea in her head…’ He sounded utterly miserable. ‘But maybe I’ll enjoy it.’

‘I take it you don’t want to…?’