‘They’re fine,’ Zoe said, but in a beaten- down voice that meant they were not fine. Well, of course they weren’t fine. ‘Anyway,’ she went on, shrugging, ‘I’d better go. I need to pick Gabe up from his football club in’ – she glanced at her watch – ‘Christ, in twenty- five minutes actually. I should crack on. Sorry,’ she added as a harassed- looking man tried to squeeze past them with a full trolley. ‘Get out of the way, Bea.’

‘Right,’ Dan replied, clearing his throat, wanting to say more; to say anything that might build a bridge between them. Or at least begin papering over the crevasse. ‘Er. Maybe . . .’

But she was already walking away, calling ‘Bye’ in a stiff, sod- off sort of voice over one narrow shoulder, the wheels of the trolley squeaking in protest as she swung it into the next aisle.

Dan stood there, clutching the wire supermarket basket, remembering the first time he had ever met Zoe; how he and Patrick had been in The Ram, not realizing that some God-awful karaoke evening was about to begin. ‘Jesus, let’s get out of here,’ Patrick had groaned when the opening chords to ‘Atomic’ started up and they saw the three women clustered expectantly around a microphone. But then his face changed as he looked again. ‘Check out that blonde one,’ he said, eyes glued to her, and they’d both fallen silent as she gave it her best Debbie Harry. She was taller than her friends and slender, in tight jeans and boots, with long yellow hair that swung around her shoulders as she moved, and an animated face that you couldn’t help but warm to. ‘I’m in love,’ Patrick said as the song ended and there was a ragged round of applause. Then he added, ‘I’m going to marry that woman’ and got up, making it to the bar just before she did. ‘Allow me to buy you a drink, Ms Harry,’ Dan heard him say. ‘Or can I call you Debbie?’

The rest, as they said, was history.

She’d always been fun, Zoe, that was the thing. Originally from south Wales, she was giggly, kind and gorgeous. Dan had secretly fancied her himself until he grudgingly had to admit that she and his brother made the perfect couple. ‘Patrick Sheppard has been tamed at last,’ their mates teased, all raised eyebrows and disbelief. ‘Who’d have thought?’