Tracey had described herself to me on the phone as ‘long, thin, with frizzy hair’, and I had no difficulty in recognizing her as she approached.

She said, ‘I knew it must be you.’

‘Why, has Ben described me to you?’

‘Not physically, no. But from what he’s said about you, you fit the description.’

‘I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or not.’

‘Oh, you should be, definitely.’

Tracey was, as she’d promised, long and thin, and her dark brown hair was suitably frizzy. She had lively brown eyes and sparkly ear studs. Wore a grey hoody with the hood down, black jeans and white trainers. The jeans had splits at the knees which made me feel my age. I know, it’s a generational thing, but I will never understand a fashion which actually makes people look shabby.

‘Take a seat, anyway. Let me get you a coffee. What would you like?’

She asked for a flat white. Like me. I wondered if she was like me in other ways.

I gave the order to Giovanni. He said he’d bring it out.

Tracey and I sat opposite each other.

‘You do know who I am, don’t you?’ she asked.

‘I’d hardly be meeting you if I didn’t, would I?’

‘I didn’t know. Ben can be so secretive at times. He’s quite capable of denying that he’s got a girlfriend, keeping my existence a secret.’

‘Yes, he is,’ I agreed. ‘But you can reassure yourself, he has at least talked to me about your existence.’

‘Good. I suppose.’ She hesitated. Fortunately for her, at that moment Giovanni brought out the flat white. She took a sip and wiped any potential froth off her top lip (there wasn’t any) before asking, ‘What has he said about me?’

‘Not as much as I would wish.’

That was possibly the wrong answer. It had the effect of making her anxious. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Sorry. I’m just naturally curious. All he’s said is that he’s been seeing someone called Tracey who is at Nottingham University – not Nottingham Trent – studying criminology. He hasn’t told me anything else.’

‘Typical Ben,’ she said, which warmed me. It meant she knew a bit about how my son worked.

‘And I’ve been a very good mum,’ I said, ‘not asking him for any more details. Waiting for him to volunteer some. Which I think could be a long wait.’

She chuckled, an encouraging sign, I thought, as I went on, ‘So, I’m extremely glad to meet you.’

‘Thanks.’ Tracey took another sip of coffee and again wiped her upper lip, before saying despondently, ‘I’m not sure that Ben and I are still seeing each other.’

‘Oh.’

‘That’s why I’ve come down here. I want to know what’s going on.’

‘Did you have a row, back in Nottingham?’

She shook her head. The frizzy hair took a moment to settle. I was beginning to feel strong empathy towards her. This was a woman I could connect with. Now I was hoping that the relationship would continue.