Olivia’s voice broke in across the table, somehow claiming her. ‘Anna’s mother and I were very dear friends, a long time ago. We’ve only just got back in touch.’ She beamed indulgently round the table. ‘We’re going to have a lot of catching up to do.’

Anna felt a strange feeling of elation, of having been singled out. A flush spread across her cheeks. She kept glancing at Olivia throughout the meal, resplendent in the glossy blue of the sari, regal, presiding over the table and her admirers. She could see now what it was that had made Kate adore her so much, something in her, a combination of charm and vulnerability which made you feel prepared to do anything for her. Anna found herself waiting for responding glances from Olivia and she was not disappointed. Often she did look over, giving her a smile both affectionate and complicit. After a time Anna began to forget the incongruity of her response. It was as if the past had nothing to do with this Olivia. Whatever her problems had been she had clearly overcome them. She was as charming and lovable as the childhood Olivia Kate had known. Anna relaxed, enjoying her.

Krish spent much of the meal clowning, Theo his foil, both of them laughing, but Krish by far the loudest. Ben talked seriously to Olivia, who occasionally turned to Sean. Once, she laid a hand on Sean’s and said, ‘There is more bread in the oven. Would you be a darling? They’re in tin foil . . .’ And Sean got up to fetch them, with the silent compliance of a dog.

‘How’re you finding teaching then?’ a voice said. Anna, concentrating on watching Sean, turned, startled, to Jake.

‘I’m sorry? Teaching? Well . . .’ She had various stock answers to this question. For Richard something upbeat and idealistic; for Kate, a more straightforward assessment of the job, but not going so far as to include the truth of how draining she found it, how hardly a day passed when she didn’t feel despair; for others there were the brief social replies: ‘Fine,’ or ‘Well, it’s a challenge.’

Since she didn’t know Jake at all and had no time to think of anything else, the only option was to be honest. ‘I think since I’ve been a teacher I’ve lost any illusions I ever had that I’m a nice, reasonable person.’

She thought he might be tediously disconcerted, as people so often were when she said something honest. Instead, he gave a laugh of recognition, the serious face suddenly transformed. ‘Very like being a parent, then.’

‘I don’t know. I can imagine, though.’ She tried to remember what she’d been told about Jake. ‘You’ve got kids?’

‘One. A little girl, Elly. She’s just four. Only she lives with my wife – ex-wife.’

Anna groped for a response. ‘You must miss her.’

Jake swallowed a mouthful of wine. ‘Like hell.’ He jerked his head to one side to flick back the hair from his face and forced a smile. She liked the smile and knew she was going to like him. There was something open about him, and genuine.