Simon’s mouth is shut, his tongue working at dislodging the kale. He makes an mmmm noise and nods. He swallows.

‘It never gets easy,’ he says, before his tongue quickly checks his now kale-free teeth. ‘Easier maybe, but not easy. There’s a reason senior pilots often go for shorter flights, or longitudinal flights.’ He indicates north-south flight with his hand, a chopping motion, up-down. ‘The 10.30 rule worked for me. If I got to somewhere and was in my hotel room by 10.30 a.m., I went to bed for a couple of hours. After 10.30 and I’d stay up all day, tough it out. But mostly I stuck to flying China time plus or minus two, once I was senior enough. Australian passengers quite like a Cathay pilot with an Australian accent, so . . .’ He shrugs. ‘The Anchorage flight’s particularly bad, if that’s any consolation.’

Bad in every way – across time zones, across the dateline, leaving Anchorage at 3.55 a.m. and arriving in Hong Kong ten hours later, at 6.55 a.m. Anchorage is given all the consideration due its status as a refuelling point, between Chicago and Hong Kong.

Jonalyn sets a mug of coffee down in front of Lacy and asks her what she’d like for breakfast.

‘It’s best for freight,’ Simon says to me. ‘Anchorage. Ideal for bento grass.’

‘That’s very sweet,’ Lacy says to Jonalyn. ‘I’m not ready for food yet. I don’t know which way is up.’

I reach across the table and touch Lacy’s hand. ‘Let’s go out for lunch. A date lunch, just the two of us. Get you into the time zone, see some of Hong Kong, have some dim sum at lunchtime in Kowloon.’

‘Sure.’ She squeezes my hand, then sits back and picks up her coffee. ‘Sounds good.’

‘Oh, okay,’ Simon says. ‘I can drive you. Faye can bring you home. Her conference is at the Eaton Hotel in Jordan. Which is in Kowloon. Finishes around three, I think.’

‘I’m okay to take the MRT,’ I tell him. ‘The MTR. It’s part of the experience.’ Lacy, me, away from regular life, discovering a new place – that experience. With no-one bringing up bento-grass merchanting the entire time.

‘It’s two train changes,’ Simon says.

‘It’s all on a map. It’s a great system. You told me that last time.’

‘It is, but . . .’ He shifts around in his seat, so that he’s not side-on to me. ‘I’ll take you to the station, at least. And I’ll give you the Octopus cards we keep for visitors. They’ve got plenty of credit on them. I know some good dim-sum places in Central. That’s only one train change. Faye could still pick you up after.’

‘I want to go to that place we went last time. In that big shopping centre. In Kowloon.’

‘Harbour City?’ He looks unimpressed.

‘You’re about to call it touristy, aren’t you?’