‘OK. Let’s talk then. I’ll finish cooking supper and we can talk. You can tell me about your life and I will tell you about mine.’

I felt bad; I’d disappointed him.

‘Spag bol OK?’ he asked.

‘Perfect,’ I said, but I sensed it was far from that. The atmosphere felt tense.

As he busied himself in the kitchen, I looked around. The place was a mess, clothes piled on chairs, wedding presents still in their boxes on the dining table. Melanie and her new husband had obviously taken off in a hurry. The thought made me smile – the build-up to the wedding, the big day, then off somewhere fabulous.

‘Where have they gone?’ I asked.

‘Mauritius,’ Michael replied. ‘We could add that to our list of places to visit.’

I smiled. ‘Are you going to admit to sending the gifts yet?’

‘Nope. A man has to have some secrets.’

‘Infuriating.’

‘That makes two of us,’ he said as he threw something in the pan and it began to sizzle.

‘The food smells delicious,’ I said as the aroma of onions and garlic filled the air. ‘Your niece seemed so happy at the wedding, meeting The One, starting a new life. Do you remember how we used to talk about The One when we knew each other before – such a romantic notion. Did you ever feel you found yours?’

‘I did, then let her go.’

‘Celia?’

‘No, you of course.’

‘Ah.’

‘I know you feel it too, Bea.’

‘Still not going to sleep with you.’

‘What? Not ever? Might as well go straight back to Thailand then.’

‘What, so no Europe?’

‘Maybe, but only if you come with me.’

Michael served supper and we chatted generally; it was pleasant, but the feelings that had been so charged when I’d walked in now felt stilted, and Michael became quieter and quieter as the evening went on.

‘Are you sulking because I didn’t succumb to your irresistible charms?’ I asked in an effort to lighten the mood.

‘Clearly my charms aren’t irresistible,’ said Michael, but he did smile. ‘Sorry. Just I had such an idea of how this evening was going to go and—’

‘I didn’t go along with the plan.’

‘Not too late,’ said Michael.

‘Just give me time.’

‘How long? Five minutes? I’ll go and strip off.’

I laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘You’ve changed, Bea.’

‘Good or bad?’

He looked thoughtful. ‘Neither, just different.’