‘Yes. Fine. I’ll ring up and book. What time shall I say?’

‘Well, we don’t want to sit there all night, do we? Can we make it lateish?’

‘If we said a table for eight thirty? We could take our time then and just see if there are any comings and goings during the evening.’

‘Yes. OK then.’

‘Take care. See you tomorrow morning.’ She lifted her black satchel on to her shoulder and glided out of the office.

How pathetic, he thought. How wonderfully pathetic. He shook his head again, realizing the pointlessness of it all, but still, deep down, wondering if he stood the remotest chance of getting anywhere with her. He caught sight of his reflection in the dark glass of the office next door. It quite surprised him. He looked younger than usual. Thinner. Actually quite fanciable. And he was only just fifty. And she was nearly forty. He laughed out loud; a lone, solitary laugh. Then he slackened his tie, grabbed his leather jacket and turned out the lights.

It was only because Tiger had no work that morning that he walked Erica to the bookshop. Otherwise she would have made the discovery on her own.

It was a warm, clear morning. Unseasonably mild. They crossed the cathedral close holding hands, looking up at the grey building as the stealthy rays of sunlight washed over the pale stone. A bell struck the quarter, and Tiger looked at his watch. ‘It’s a minute fast.’

‘If it’s all the same to you I’d rather live by cathedral time than Omega time.’

‘Yes, well you can’t run an airline on cathedral time.’

The conversation stopped when they rounded the corner of the alley and saw Isobel sweeping up broken glass. Erica broke away from Tiger and dashed up to her. ‘Isobel, whatever’s happened? Have you had an accident?’

‘No dear,’ Isobel was close to tears, ‘not an accident at all. Quite intentional. Look…’ She nodded in the direction of the left-hand window of her shop. It was shattered. Shards of glass lay on the pavement and among the display boxes of artificial chocolates that were piled up in the once attractive window.

‘Vandals. Ruddy vandals.’ For Isobel this was the nearest she came to swearing.

Tiger stepped forward to assess the damage. In the middle of the display was a single brick. He turned to Isobel. ‘Have you called the police?’

‘Oh, they’ve been and gone dear. I asked them if they wanted to take fingerprints but they didn’t seem interested. Said they’d come back later and take down more details. So much of it going on at the moment apparently. Unless they catch the culprits red-handed there’s little chance of them ever finding out who did it.’