‘Well done,’ Blake says, and I hold up a hand in thanks, talking still being a little tricky. He gets a towel out of his car and rubs himself down with it. ‘Fancy a celebratory drink?’

‘I couldn’t touch alcohol,’ I say. ‘I’d be flat on my back.’

‘We wouldn’t want that, Sexy,’ Blake says. One of his winks again. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of a cola or something.’

There’s a pub by the side of the lake – one of those big, impersonal family affairs with plastic food at credit-crunch prices. But there are benches and tables outside and, for some reason, a canal boat stranded afloat in a fake bit of canal which makes quite an attractive area.

‘Yes,’ I say without panting too much. What am I rushing home for, except to be met by stony silence? ‘That would be nice.’

We walk the hundred yards or so to the pub at a – mercifully – sedate pace.

‘Sit here,’ Blake says, as we reach a table by the narrowboat. ‘I’ll get the drinks.’

So I sit there fanning myself with a plastic menu, trying to cool down until my colleague returns with a glass of cola for me and a pint of orange juice for himself. We drink in silence as we look out over the lake.

‘Do you run here often?’ I ask.

He laughs. ‘Is that a pick-up line, Sexy?’

I feel myself colour up and, thankfully, Blake steps in to rescue me. ‘Yes, in fact I run here nearly every day – usually in the morning before I come to work. When you enjoy as much corporate hospitality as I do, you have to do something to keep in shape.’ He pats his washboard stomach fondly. ‘What about you?’

‘The only exercise I’ve had for the last twenty years is picking up dirty washing that my children have left on the floor.’ It was meant to be a joke but, for some reason, it makes my eyes prickle with tears.

‘What age are your kids?’

‘Ellen’s coming up twenty and Bobby’s just turned eighteen.’

‘You don’t look old enough to have kids that age.’

More blushing.

‘I bet they’re really proud of you.’

How can I tell Blake that they probably couldn’t care less? That ambition and adventure are words that aren’t in their vocabulary? That the only thing they’re bothered about is spending all their money on booze at the weekends?

‘They’re thrilled,’ I lie.

‘And your husband?’

Ah. Can’t even force a lie about that one. ‘Less so.’ I hang my head.

‘Then it’s even more brave that you’ve decided to go without his support. That’s tough.’

My throat has closed. ‘Yes.’

Blake fixes me with his baby-blue eyes and a smile curls his lips. ‘Well, I think you’re a very feisty woman, Annie Ashton.’