‘You’ll think of something,’ he said, ‘and let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’

‘Gift for the missus,’ Heather piped up from behind the counter. ‘We have bracelets, earrings – you name it. Earn yourself some Brownie points.’

Stuart smiled. ‘Bit late for that, I think.’

Monty started pulling on his lead so Stuart headed for the door. ‘Stay in touch and don’t do anything rash.’

I laughed. ‘Heather and I are on the next plane to Brazil. We’ll send you a postcard.’

‘I might even come with you,’ he said, then let Monty out of the door. A moment later, he came back. ‘Don’t suppose you can get away for a walk? We could talk over your future plans.’

‘Or lack of them,’ I said. ‘But I—’

‘Go,’ said Heather. ‘I can man the shop. Take a break.’

‘Great,’ said Stuart. ‘I have a few things to do then I’ll come back for you in about an hour?’

I watched him walk off down the street and thought he seemed subdued. Maybe it was him that needed to talk over his future.

‘That man fancies you,’ said Heather.

I laughed. ‘You say that about everyone. You said that about Jon too.’

‘Both of them fancy you. You just don’t see it, Bea; you’re blind to your fatal attraction. Loads of men fancy you.’

‘Yeah right, not Stuart though. OK, yes, he’s a friend, but also one hired to oversee my finances, which explains his concern, it’s his job. Anyway, you know he’s married.’

‘Shame. So many of the good men are taken. But how do you feel?’

‘About what?’

‘You know very well about what, I mean who: Stuart.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Drop it, Heather. Ours is mainly a professional relationship and, even if it wasn’t, I think he believes I’ve messed up, made some bad decisions of which he disapproves. If you had your way, I’d be sleeping with half the men in Hampstead.’

‘Why stop there? Go for all of them. You have so much to offer – you’re attractive, good company, I’d like to see you shacked up with someone.’

‘I am fine. I have Daphne. I don’t need anyone,’ I replied. ‘I’ve managed on my own and will continue to do so.’ And to prove my point I sang the opening lines of Gloria Gaynor’s ‘I Will Survive’.

Heather grimaced. ‘And you can’t sing either. When you do meet The One, please don’t try and serenade him, because that will be the end of it.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence. And now I am going upstairs to go over a few figures. Can you manage down here?’

‘Sure,’ she said.

*