‘Oh, Christ no, there’s far worse to come,’ he went on. ‘Far worse. Now brace yourself and picture the scene: four or five lanky lads, can’t handle even the weakest lager, blinking in the daylight as they emerge from the den of vice – that’s the pub, obviously.’

‘Good, I was wondering.’ Her glumness had evaporated and she was enjoying this peek into George’s youth. ‘Carry on.’

‘So the lads emerge, wobbling and a bit giddy. There’s the Friday fruit-and-veg market on in town – this is in Shropshire, where I grew up. And wait, who’s this in front of the lads? It’s only Nicola Hulme, the fittest girl in the sixth form.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Em. ‘Let me guess. The boys feel obliged to show off in front of young, innocent Nicola Hulme.’

‘She wasn’t all that innocent, allegedly, but let’s gloss over that. One particularly stupid boy who shall remain nameless—’

‘You?’

‘Me. Picks up some oranges from a nearby stall and starts juggling.’

Em smirked. ‘Ah, yes. Scientifically proven to be the fastest way to a girl’s heart.’

‘Indeed. His mates are jealous of his skills and start trying to snatch the oranges. Some fruit-throwing ensues. They’re going everywhere. Meanwhile, the owner of the fruit stall is rightfully pissed off and grabs hold of the ringleader.’

‘Not you again?’

‘Me again. Who is hauled off down the nick, for a bollocking from the bored copper on the desk – thus ruining my chances with Nicola Hulme forever and earning me a criminal record.’

Em snorted. ‘You’ve got a criminal record for lobbing a few oranges about? That is the most . . .’ She burst out laughing. ‘That is the most tragic criminal record I’ve ever heard of in my life.’ She poked his leg with her toe. ‘Still, I’ve always loved a rebel. Even one without a cause.’

‘Without a cause? You’re forgetting foxy Nicola Hulme, mate. Not easy to do, believe you me.’

She smiled, feeling a whole lot better. ‘Orange Is the New Black: The George Macleod Diaries,’ she said in a dramatic voice, giggling at her own wit.

‘TV rights are available for the dramatization of my memoir,’ he said. ‘For a very reasonable price.’

‘You surprise me.’

‘But at least now you know that I think your son is a perfectly normal fifteen-year-old boy and I’m not judging him in the slightest.’ His arm tightened around her. ‘Come on, he didn’t even get a criminal record out of the whole experience. He’s a total lightweight, to be honest. Not trying hard enough.’

‘Good point,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’ She wiggled around so that she was facing him and slid her leg over his. ‘I’m not sure how I feel about dating a delinquent with a criminal record, though,’ she added in a breathy voice. ‘Slightly miffed that you haven’t tried to impress me with your juggling skills, mainly.’