The Seahorse was as different as could be from the pub where they played dominoes. While the Hare and Hounds offered dark-stained oak and an abundance of horse brasses, the Seahorse maintained the air of a sophisticated bistro. The walls were painted pale yellow and hung with posters of vineyards. Candles provided most of the light, and from behind the bar came a warm glow that spread an air of contented comfort over the scrubbed pine tables and the well-heeled clientele.

‘I don’t know why I’ve come,’ Sarah protested gently.

‘Probably my irresistible charms,’ offered Gary.

‘Not specifically,’ she said matter-of-factly.

‘Why then?’

They were seated at a table for two in a corner. With the sort of view that both of them enjoyed. From here they could do for pleasure what they were trained to do for a living. Watch people.

‘Because I’m curious.’

‘Curious about what?’ he asked.

‘About you.’

Gary was disconcerted. She’d never admitted anything so remotely personal before. Always treated him as though he were either an obstacle to her progress or a stray dog that had temporarily invaded her patch.

‘In what way?’ he asked slowly.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘you’re either a complete male-chauvinist bastard, or a lifelong commitment-phobe, or an insecure coward where relationships are concerned, and hide behind a protective barrier that’s composed of the other two.’

‘I think you’ve lost me,’ he said.

Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’

Gary took a sip of his wine and put down the glass, all without looking at her. ‘So which of those three–it was three wasn’t it?–things do you think I am?’

‘Let’s take them one at a time. If you were a complete male-chauvinist bastard you’d have taken advantage of me more than you have.’

He looked up at her and murmured, ‘Must be losing my touch.’

She continued. ‘All right then, tried to take advantage of me.’

Gary looked offended. ‘I thought I’d made a pretty good stab at it.’

‘No. Not by some men’s standards. Then there’s the commitment phobia.’ She mused for a moment. ‘You see, I could well believe that. Did you have any pets as a child?’

‘A hamster.’

‘There you are then.’

‘What do you mean, “there you are”?’

‘Hamsters. Shortest-lived of any childhood pet. What do you get out of them? Three years–if you’re lucky. Puts you off long-term relationships for life.’

‘That’s absolute bollocks.’

Sarah shook her head. ‘Oh, no. Well-known fact. If you’d had a dog you’d have been much more ready to commit.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t study philosophy at university because with this turn of mind you’d have been a disaster.’

‘No, but I did study social anthropology and you fit the bill exactly.’