She stroked my cheek. ‘I don’t. Enjoy it, Andrew. I like cooking, I’m good at it, you’re bad at it. Makes sense for me to do it, yes? You can learn one day and then you can cook for me.’

We moved on to talking about Tilly. ‘How is she?’ Charlie asked. ‘Have you had any more clandestine cups of tea with her PA?’

‘No. Rachel texted me to say Tilly seems a bit happier and to thank us for taking her out. I meant to tell you. She says she’s keeping an eye on her.’

I went quiet for a minute and she asked what I was thinking about. I normally hate that question, but with Charlie I never minded.

‘What about your family? Will I get to meet them?’

She frowned. ‘That would be difficult. I don’t have any family.’

Taken aback, I waited for her to continue.

‘I told you that both my parents died when I was a teenager.’

I had no memory of her sharing this momentous fact. It certainly wasn’t the kind of thing I’d forget. ‘No you didn’t.’

‘I must have done. My mum died of cancer when I was fifteen and then my dad committed suicide a year later because he was so heartbroken and couldn’t get over it.’

My insides had gone cold. ‘You definitely didn’t tell me any of that. Oh my God, Charlie. That’s awful.’

She looked up at me through her lashes. ‘But it’s something we have in common, isn’t it? We’re both alone.’ She stared at the table top then back at me. ‘We were both alone.’

I tried to think of something appropriate to say but before inspiration struck she said, ‘Right. I’ve got to get back to work. Back to being Charlotte again.’ She stood up, kissed me on the lips and told me she’d be round about seven.