‘This,’ he said, ‘is research.’

‘Research into what?’

‘Oh, why women do the things they do,’ he said. ‘Cheat. Have affairs. Betray their spouses. You know the kind of thing.’

Something about the bitterness with which he said this made me anxious. It was my job, after all, to make sure he left feeling better than when he’d arrived. And he’d been so lovely, and it was obvious that he was going through a bad time, what with this funeral coming up and some woman having done the dirty on him, by the sound of it. Though why you would mess around when you had a man who looked like that was beyond me.

‘Not all women are like that,’ I said.

Our eyes met. He gave me a rueful smile. ‘I’d like to think so,’ he said.

He paid in cash, and walked out into the spring sunshine without looking back. The tip he left me was so generous I nearly ran out into the street to give it back to him.

I didn’t expect to see him again. I thought it’d be a one-off, an anecdote: the good-looking guy who I gave a last-minute trim just before closing time, the day before he was due to go to a funeral.

When I walked into the Green Man, I was fully expecting to find Karen there waiting for me, annoyed because I was late but also pleased to see me, and eager to tell me whatever the latest developments were in her love life.

Sean was there, pulling a pint for someone. But there was no sign of Karen. Instead, sitting at the bar, was a recently familiar, freshly trimmed head gleaming in the muted light, the short back and sides I’d just worked on: Mark, reading his book again.

Maybe I should have let him be. But I didn’t. Instead I went right on over and said, ‘Hello again.’

He looked up and grinned. ‘My hair saviour. Can I get you a drink?’

‘Well…’

‘Please, I insist. You might as well tell me what you like, or you’ll have to take pot luck.’

‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, then. Thank you.’

‘Gin and tonic, please,’ Mark said to Sean.

Sean made a non-committal noise that could have meant anything from Get lost to All right then. As he moved to fetch a clean glass he gave me a filthy look.

He had no right to be jealous. I’d never given him the impression he was in with a chance. And the last thing I needed right now was him glowering at me from behind the bar.

‘Mark, this is Sean, my housemate,’ I said.

Mark looked at Sean without much interest. ‘Oh, you share a house, do you?’

‘Yes, there are five of us.’

‘It gets pretty rowdy,’ Sean said, looking daggers at Mark now. ‘Usually lots of people around, playing music, that kind of thing. Especially on a Saturday night.’

I felt myself blushing. Sean was seriously trying to put Mark off coming back home with me… as if that was likely to happen! Really, he was being ridiculously possessive. Completely out of order.