Dan grinned. ‘I knew you were way out of my league, anyway. And then I heard you were seeing some incredibly smooth older man with a pad in South Ken. Knew I was beaten.’

‘Michael,’ I said quietly. ‘I married him.’

‘Ah.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, I knew that too.’

How different life could have been, I realized, if I hadn’t. If I hadn’t felt so emotionally scarred. So traumatized. Acted so impulsively after I’d killed Liam. If that terrible night had never happened. I knew I’d never have married Michael. I might have met someone at university. Or I might have come home every weekend from London. Gone to the pub with Helena’s gang. Been chatted up by Dan, who already had his eye on me. The son of friends of my parents. A boy with the same upbringing, same values. I might have gone out with him. I might even have married this kind, intelligent man sitting opposite me. Lived a pleasant, peaceful life in the country. Been friends with other pony club mothers and organized church fêtes. Instead of which, I’d married Michael. I’d fallen for Michael because I felt he’d understood me, and somehow absolved me, for Liam. In later life, I’d come to see that Michael had not been my absolver at all. In fact, he’d been my penance.

I shook my head. A regrouping gesture. ‘What happened to the party?’ I asked, my interest sparked suddenly.

‘Actually, I’m ashamed to say, it carried on. No one knew the boy in question, of course—’

‘Liam,’ I put in quickly.

‘Liam. And, obviously, everyone was devastated for you. Word spread pretty quickly. But you know what kids are like. Didn’t stop the dancing and snogging.’ He shrugged. ‘Life went on.’

I gave a wry smile. ‘At least you got to dance and snog.’

‘Actually, I went home.’

I glanced up in surprise. He was looking a bit sheepish again. God, why hadn’t I noticed him?

‘Anyway,’ he went on breezily, in the manner of one brushing aside an embarrassment, ‘let’s not dwell on that night. Tell me about the rest of your life. Tell me about your kids.’

I did, keen to move on too, and this was pretty much my specialist subject. I glowed with pride as I told him how lucky I’d been. Not always, of course. Imo had been a handful in her teens, and Ned had had his moments later, in a different, but perhaps more complicated way, but how lucky I’d been, given their father – although of course I didn’t say that. So incredibly fortunate to have been blessed with two clever, well-balanced, functioning children who’d grown into the nicest possible adults.

‘No spouses on the horizon?’ He was digging into a treacle tart now whilst I spooned up some sorbet, my children having taken some time. ‘No wedding bells?’