‘No need, and no time either. I’m selling the end of the world, Mum. That’s why we have to eat early. You won’t believe how busy I am.’

He’s laughing now, a sound I always cherish, and after he rings off I pocket my phone and drift across to the window. Young mothers are still pushing buggies round the nearby park. A delinquent spaniel is chasing a gaggle of seagulls. Big, fat passenger jets are lining up to land at Heathrow. If the end of the world is that close, there are few clues in Holland Park.

Avventura is an Italian place I’ve been going to for years. It’s family-run, unpretentious, utterly reliable, and serves the best acqua pazza I’ve ever tasted. Two Italian meals in one day is slightly over the top, but Malo even remembers the wine I like to go with my favourite dish, and orders a bottle while we’re still en route to the table.

My son’s lost weight, and he’s taken to proper shaving. Best of all, his eyes are bright and there’s a blush of colour in his face.

‘You’re still doing it? Running? Swimming? Whatever?’

‘Running, mainly. Dad couldn’t believe it. I was down there for three days, found a really neat circuit, back down the drive, then left through the woods, out round the pond, back via that track he used for the motocross, then twice more. I did eight K the first morning. An extra lap the second. H thought I’d gone for a smoke at first. Can you believe that?’

‘And booze?’ I nod at the bottle of San Pellegrino the waiter has just delivered.

‘Never touched a drop all weekend. H thought I must be ill.’

The waiter has returned with a bottle of chilled Greco di Tufo.

‘You’ll be helping me out, I hope?’ I nod at the two glasses already on the table.

‘Afraid not, Mum. Training’s training. You do it or you don’t.’

‘Is that Sylvester I’m hearing?’

‘Could be. The man’s a machine.’ He lifts his glass of fizzy water. ‘Here’s to the end of the world.’

We clink glasses and I press him for news from Flixcombe Manor. H’s spread in the depths of West Dorset was the bait he used to lure his newly found son into the beginnings of a proper relationship. Like everyone else who’s ever been there, me included, Malo fell in love with the views, and the peace, and the glories of the wondrous Georgian house that dominates the estate.

‘You told H about what you’re up to? This Doomsday thingy?’

‘Of course I did. He thought it was a crazy idea to begin with, then this morning he gave me a list of prospects. Said he’d been working the phone for most of last night.’