Invited to dinner back at Rules off the Strand, Gerry and Babs, Verity’s horsey parents, found to their disappointment that their barbed comments that Ricky might be seeking a British passport failed to offend him or put him off. Instead he agreed with them that it was the first question he would ask any foreign adventurer intent on such a fair prize as their precious daughter, and reassured them that his corporation provided him with a flexible working visa for the UK and the markets with which he had to work, so that a British passport would prove neither necessary nor convenient. Looking across the table at their embarrassed daughter, whose earnest eyes silently pleaded, please like him, please don’t chase him away, they found their stiffness melting, and even more so by the time they had got to the brandies that Ricky generously ordered. The third time Ricky asked them to dinner, it was to ask the permission of Gerry for his daughter’s hand, and Gerry, touched despite himself at such old-fashioned good form, found he had neither the reason nor will to refuse. Shaking Ricky’s hand, he surprised himself by hoping that Veetie didn’t make a balls-up of this relationship like she had all the others.

Ricky’s proposal to Verity, just a few months after they met, took her by surprise, as she had first taken him by surprise. Despite now having his own company flat in London, near the commuter station for his office in Slough, he often stayed at Verity’s Clapham flat, sharing the bitter coffee that she brewed first thing in the morning before he left for his office or the airport, and last thing at night when he returned, taking her face between his hands to kiss her gently, as though she might break at his touch. One such evening he returned from a week’s absence in Bangladesh and found Verity more nervous than usual, with no welcoming coffee brewed. She turned her face when he went to kiss her, and so he brushed his lips against her cheek and sat in the armchair opposite her, removing his tie. Ricky already understood Verity too well to be annoyed with her, or to suspect that this odd behaviour had anything to do with him.

‘Is something wrong, Verity? Has something happened at work?’ he asked gently, leaning forward. He often listened sympathetically to Verity’s stories of mistreatment at the hands of her colleagues, and guessed that something had upset her. The sooner she found another job, the better. He had even started looking for openings in his own company that might interest her.

‘Something’s happened, Ricky. I’ve been dying to tell you for days, but I just couldn’t tell you on the phone. To be honest, I’ve no idea how you’ll take it. I hope you’ll be OK with it.’