‘You think of bullets, you think of bangs, right?’ Chris was saying. ‘’S’nothing like that at all. More of a whipcrack sound, a sort of stinging, high-pitched whine, peeow, peeeow.’

He had his head dipped low as if he were actually in a trench, sheltering from rifle fire. Callum was leaning back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankle and hands behind his head, nodding slowly with an expression of shrewd attention on his face.

Finally, Callum left to go to the toilet and Tamsin took her chance.

‘Listen,’ she said, keeping her voice low. ‘I hope this doesn’t sound too crazy, but I haven’t actually told Callum that whole thing about how we met. It just seemed … I told him you used to date a friend of mine, years ago, and that I met you once or twice through her. Shit, this does sound crazy, doesn’t it?’

But to her surprise, Chris was immediately compliant, even grateful, for this alternative version of events. He didn’t appear to think it was odd that she hadn’t told Callum the real story of how they knew one another.

‘God no, of course, that’s much better,’ he said. ‘We met through your friend, perfect. Thanks. Seriously, thanks.’ He sounded relieved.

(Chris was embarrassed: by what he now perceived as unforgivable cowardice that day on the tube. It didn’t look too hot for Second Lieutenant Kimura to be running away from a suitcase. Tamsin’s lie allowed him to save face. Was she just as ashamed, he wondered? Or was it something else she was hiding from Callum? Even as he rejected this interpretation as absurd, he found himself feeling faintly, pleasantly hopeful.)

They finished the meal with port and Stilton. It had been a boozy evening. Halfway through his second glass of port, Chris became almost tearful.

‘People, they ask me, they ask me all the time why I joined the army. I wish I could show them this, all this.’ He flung his arms open to indicate the room. ‘This is my answer. People like you two, all this decency, and culture – this is exactly what I’m fighting for. We’re fighting the bastards who’ll throw acid in the eyes of schoolgirls so that this, this paradise – because, for all its faults, the UK really is paradise – this paradise that allows people like you guys to just be, to do your thing…’ He raised his glass in a reverent toast. ‘I wish you all the best. I really do.’

Callum reached over to plunge the coffee, hiding a smile at the younger man’s emotion.

Later, at the door, Chris kissed Tamsin on both cheeks, then pulled Callum into a backslapping hug. ‘Great evening. Pukka scran.’

Callum laughed. ‘Pleasure. Like I say, you’re welcome any time.’