Then, interrupting her thoughts, Nico slapped down his coffee, propped his folded arms on the table and leaned close, his voice low and rapid. ‘I’m sure you mean well, Hannah, but trying to force-feed someone doesn’t work. Rob’s obviously told you my situation. I’m surprised and disappointed that he’d betray a confidence but I suppose he’s got his head full of wedding plans.’

Hannah had to chew and swallow before she could answer. ‘Your situation?’ she asked evasively, before adding truthfully, ‘I didn’t know you’d been in touch with Rob.’

He sighed in the exaggerated manner of those who know they’re dealing with prevarication and leaned closer still. The outdoorsy smell of him wasn’t unpleasant. ‘If you need it spelling out, yes, my marriage ending did trigger my eating disorder. But I’m fine. I’m a normal weight and functioning perfectly well.’

It was so far from what she’d expected that Hannah gaped, her voice squeaking. ‘Eating disorder? I thought you might be homeless.’ Then realising that she’d blurted her thoughts, stuttered, ‘Well, m-maybe not homeless but—’

‘Homeless?’ He looked thunderstruck, his blue eyes ablaze. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’

Hannah fidgeted with a halloumi bite. What should she say? You look a half-starved mess?

He shook the tension from his shoulders with an obvious effort. ‘I’m not homeless. I’m a key account director for the London branch of a Swedish company, SLS. We’re in sports memorabilia and promotions. Winter sports is our core business but we’re gradually expanding our reach. I live in Islington in London with my daughter Josie, work in Holborn and travel to Sweden once or twice a month.’

Then he glanced down at himself and his expression lightened. He even laughed. ‘Ah, the clothes! It’s an SLS community initiative. We facilitate kids’ activity days and because I had to be here for meetings on Friday and Monday I stayed the weekend and participated. Today we took a busload of children to Skytteholmsparken. I was with the eight- to ten-year-olds at the outdoor gym and woodland trails. I’ve been crawling under trees pretending to be a lion.’ The angry grooves around his eyes relaxed into laughter lines.

‘I see,’ Hannah breathed, overdoing the sigh of relief. Though it was fantastic to know he wasn’t sleeping in dumpsters, no way in the world was he a normal weight for a man of his height. She’d say at least twenty-five pounds under. Maybe thirty. Hannah didn’t know much about eating disorders but she doubted she should jump in and tell him he looked gaunt. Instead, she tried to make sense of the rest of his speech. ‘You’ve been speaking to Rob?’