Penny told me that Cassie’s childminder was ill and Evelyn couldn’t miss her morning’s class. She was training to be a reflexologist. I said it was lovely to have Cassie with us while we worked, which it was, but I looked around from my job every twenty seconds to make sure she hadn’t picked up a stray scalpel or decided to eat glue.

At midday Colin arrived. He bustled in with his raincoat done up to the neck, even though it was a warm day. ‘Is my book ready at last?’ he asked. I had telephoned his mother only an hour earlier to say that it was waiting for him.

‘Here you are,’ I said and put the heavy volume into his hands. Penny and Cassie both watched as he took the book out of its case, pursing his lips as he checked his name and flipped the thick creamy pages. The magazine cuttings each sat in a specially cut pocket, grouped into menu sections and titled in flowing sepia calligraphy. He looked at every page, breathing through his mouth as he slid the greasy cuttings in and out of the pockets and squinted at the titles.

‘What do you think?’ I asked.

At last he nodded. ‘It looks very nice,’ he said and a smile briefly transformed his face. With his thick features and unlined skin, he looked disconcertingly like a plump schoolboy when he smiled.

‘I hoped you would be pleased,’ I said.

‘Yes. Yes, I’m quite pleased, as a matter of fact. My mum will like it.’

‘What’s this man?’ Cassie asked loudly.

‘This is Colin,’ I told her. ‘He’s a customer of ours.’

‘Colin,’ she repeated.

Rather surprisingly, because he rarely betrayed any interest in anyone or anything except his own concerns, Colin immediately tucked his book under his arm and strode round to Cassie’s side of the bench. Penny and I took two steps closer to her.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked her.

She told him in a clear voice. Evelyn was an unconventional mother but her methods meant that Cassie was used to adult company and questions.

‘Do you want to see my book?’

‘Yes, please. It’s red,’ Cassie said. She reached out to touch it as soon as he placed it on the bench but he hoisted it out of her reach.

‘No dirty fingermarks, thank you.’

She rested her chin on her clenched fists and looked at the pages with obedient interest as he turned them over for her. Penny and I shrugged at each other behind his back.

‘Writing,’ Cassie said, pointing at the titles with her chubby finger.

‘Yes, it’s writing,’ Colin agreed. ‘Now I can get on with my cookery. It’s been quite a nuisance that it’s all taken so long, I can tell you, but I suppose it was worth it in the end.’

‘I’ve got my book.’ Cassie offered him one of hers.