She started spending her evenings with John, going to the cinema, or to pubs and restaurants all around the city. She liked how he took care of her, and how solicitous he was, asking her what she’d like to do, what film she wanted to see or what food she’d like to eat, and then arranging it all for them. He would order for her in restaurants, choose the wine for both of them, and Katrina enjoyed the peace of not having to make decisions, the feeling of security she had with John. The attention, too. Extraordinary to discover someone could find her so interesting. He didn’t make her laugh, that was true—not like some of her colleagues. And Katrina found that she became a more serious version of herself when she was with him, more thoughtful perhaps, less frivolous. But there were other things besides laughter.

He’d be there waiting for her most evenings outside her office, and would then escort her to whatever destination he had planned, even when it was close to his own office in the East End, so that he had to travel out of his way to pick her up. Katrina would point out that it would make much more sense for them to meet in the middle, but John would shrug and smile and say he liked to collect her, that he didn’t want to miss a moment with her. Sometimes he’d even get the Herald’s receptionist to let him in, and would simply appear at her desk at five thirty, greeting her colleagues and asking if she was ready to go. Katrina was always pleased to see him, but occasionally these sudden appearances threw her off guard, as though he might catch her in the middle of something (but what, she wasn’t sure).

Later—much later—it would occur to her that she’d fallen in love simply because she wanted to be in love. It could have been anyone. That was the pity of it.

It was a long time before she introduced him to her mother. There was an evening with Jill and Chris first, a strained meal in a small Italian restaurant in Edinburgh, during which nobody seemed to be behaving like themselves. Katrina was disappointed afterwards when she asked John if he liked them and he only said, “They seemed fine.” But she reminded herself that John could be shy sometimes, and even she didn’t know Jill very well anymore.

Introducing John to her mother proved similarly anticlimactic, though for different reasons. Katrina had steeled herself for some kind of scene, for her mother weeping and telling John how Katrina had abandoned her, or else her taking an immediate dislike to John and treating him to her speech on how all men were bastards. Katrina imagined John’s face, white and set, as he endured these indignities, and she could hardly bear it.