I usually sounded bitter when I talked about Sean, which I resented – there was something demeaning about being the critical ex-wife. Also, it made the girls feel sorry for him, which was sympathy he didn’t deserve. It sounded so much better when I had Mark to compare him to. Not so much as if I was down on Sean because things hadn’t worked out, but more as if I was being matter-of-fact.

That was one of the amazing things about having been found by someone who actually wanted me. All the stuff that had happened before, during the years of my failed marriage, seemed less my fault: the rows and the humiliation, the lack of money, the being left to manage alone. The rejection. You might have expected it to be the other way round, but Sean was the one who had finally called time on our marriage.

Peter said, ‘Does Sean know?’

‘Last I heard he was working in a bar in Cologne, but that was a while ago. Right now, I don’t even know what continent he’s on.’

‘How do you think he’d feel about it?’

I sighed. ‘Why should I care? He has no right to know, and no right to object, either.’

Peter raised his eyebrows and waited for me to respond to the question. Sometimes there was something rather schoolteacherish about him.

‘I think he probably won’t like it at all,’ I admitted.

‘I suppose no one likes to feel that they can be replaced,’ Peter said. ‘Especially if the replacement is such an obvious improvement.’

‘That’s true,’ I said. ‘He’s bound to take it as a slap in the face.’ That really was true. Truer than Peter had any way of knowing. ‘I mean, they’re so different. Like chalk and cheese. Sean’s chaotic. No impulse control. If he goes past somewhere that looks like a good place to eat, or wants a drink or sees a woman he likes… or gets an idea about where he wants to take off to next… off he goes. Mark has a plan for everything. He’s always thinking ahead, whereas Sean carries on like the nuclear bomb’s going to land the next day. Like there’s almost no future at all.’

‘But Mark’s been rather impulsive where you’re concerned, hasn’t he?’

‘Impulsive?’

‘I mean, it’s all moved rather fast.’

‘I think you get to a stage in life where you don’t feel the need to mess around. He’s a bit older than me, so that’s even more true for him.’

Then – before Peter could ask anything about Mark’s ex-wife, and what had gone wrong, and if he was still on friendly terms with her and all of that – I said I had to be getting back.

Peter kissed me drily on the cheek and showed me out. I could tell he wanted to say more and was biting his tongue, and I was glad that he’d kept his thoughts to himself.

That’s one of the things about being a single woman in your mid-thirties, whether you have children already or not. People tend to assume that what you really want is a baby, and any new romance is a means to an end… or that, even if it’s not on the cards just yet, you’re at least mulling over the possibility.