‘Only if you have one too. My mother warned me about beautiful women who ply me with alcohol.’

Thea really laughed now. ‘I don’t think it was the likes of me your mother had in mind.’ She waved her hand, caught the waiter’s attention and ordered the drinks.

He curled his fingers round his brandy glass and regarded her with his head on one side. ‘It occurs to me you’re wasted being a student landlady …’

‘… with a part-time job.’

‘You need a proper life.’

‘Like you’ve got one. Derr!’ She sounded so like Petal that she laughed and realised at the same time that she was slightly drunk.

‘No, I haven’t. But between us we could make one.’

Thea suppressed more laughter. ‘That sounds like an improper suggestion to me.’

His smile reflected hers, only much more charmingly. ‘It could be, only to begin with I’ve got a proper one – at least, not one my mother could object to.’

‘Which is?’

‘You come to Ireland and look after me for a bit, have some time on your own to do some real photography, lap up the scenery, feel the wind in your hair and the sun on your face …’

‘Do you write poetry in your spare time by any chance?’

‘Now you’re mocking me. I mean it. I could show you another life.’

‘I’m sure you could, but why should I swap looking after student lodgers for looking after you?’

‘Because there’s only one of me, I’m very undemanding and I have a pregnant dog.’

Thea shook her head. She was drunk, but not incapable. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll have my little holiday and go back to reality. You can’t run away from yourself, you know.’

‘But do you need to? Yourself seems in fine condition to me.’

He really was very attractive. His eyes were clear greeny blue, with maddeningly curly eyelashes. His hair was curly too and his mouth, large and generous, curled up at the edges.

‘Well, it’s sweet of you to ask me, but I couldn’t possibly.’

He produced a battered ring-bound notebook from his pocket. ‘Here, I’ll give you my address, in case you change your mind.’ He scrawled something on a sheet and tore it out. ‘You fly from Stansted to Knock, which is an international airport.’ He added this bit of information with a sort of mocking pride. ‘I’d pick you up from there. It’s not far.’

‘It’s very kind of you, but I won’t change my mind.’ She took the paper and tucked it into her handbag. She would keep it as a little ‘might have been’, if ever she got too fed up.

‘You never know. People do.’

She smiled a little wistfully. ‘I think we should have a cup of coffee.’

‘With another brandy?’

‘Definitely not.’