Paul introduced her as Sandrine. Her gaze swept me up and down and returned to my face. She gave me what I can only describe as the look of filth.

‘So, Paul,’ she asked, still maintaining eye contact with me, ‘where is your lovely wife?’

I turned away and carried on stowing away my unsold stock, wrapping things in newspaper and putting them in boxes, keeping my head down, apparently not listening in to their conversation, my ears on stalks. There was a moment of silence before Paul replied. Did he glance in my direction?

‘Carrie’s staying up in Nottingham,’ he told her, ‘with her mother.’

‘And Josh too?’ she purred sweetly. ‘How old is he now? Two?’

‘Nearly three.’

‘Ah,’ Sandrine babbled on, ‘the time, how it flies!’

Ah, the heart, how it sinks! Now I had the answer to my question. My face felt hot, I was blushing like an idiotic schoolgirl. And why, I asked myself? Paul and I weren’t on a date. During the day he had asked me if I’d be interested in working some other fairs and markets with him, which I’d taken as a sign that things might be moving in an interesting direction, but I’d no reason to feel embarrassed. It just seemed very strange that he’d told me all his plans for his new home and the kind of life he wanted to live there, and said nothing about a wife and child. Surely they would be mentioned, hinted at somehow? I felt irrationally irritated with him, and even crosser with myself.

Glossy Sandrine made her departure with, ‘Do give my love to Carrie when you see her!’ and drifted away. I carried on packing and tried to smother the desire to strangle her with my bare hands. After all, she’d done me a favour.

Paul’s attention was taken by a woman interested in a little table of his, and so we were saved the awkwardness of conversation for a while. I didn’t know what to say anyway. Better to shut up and leave it to him to raise the subject.

Which he did, but not until we’d packed everything, loaded it in the van, folded away the tarpaulin, and were sitting in a queue, trying to exit the airfield with all the other traders, after the fair had closed.

‘You OK, Juno?’ he asked, glancing at me because I was silent.

‘Fine,’ I assured him. Less said the better, I felt.

‘You enjoyed today?’

‘It was great, thanks.’

There was a brief pause before he spoke again. ‘I didn’t mention Carrie before because … well, it’s a bit painful at the moment. Truth is, she’s left me …’

‘She doesn’t understand you?’ I suggested sarcastically. I regretted it immediately, could have bitten off my tongue.