I’d trawled the internet advice columns for hints and tips on ‘surprising your husband’. Underwear and cooking seemed popular, but I settled on a surprise date. After all, you always decided what we did. You always paid. So I booked a table at The Ivy, where we’d joked about celeb-spotting. There’d been a cancellation and I snapped up a six-thirty table. You were working in your London office, so I took the train down and waited outside after work.

You weren’t expecting me. That was clear. I saw you through the smoky glass, slightly swarthy with your five-o’clock shadow, and felt the familiar glow. Then I saw her. She followed you out and you were laughing and joking. My hackles rose but I reminded myself that you had female friends. Of course you did. That was normal. So why did I feel so angry?

Maybe I already knew deep down. Looking back, it was classic denial. You were always looking at other women and if I made a fuss you’d make a big deal about my ‘green-eyed monster’. This time it was more. You were touching her, your arm around her shoulder. She was laughing into your face.

I hurried around the corner and watched as you stood on the pavement, hailing a taxi. I bit the bullet and walked around the corner as if I had just arrived. Suddenly you were colleagues. I remember thinking that it felt rehearsed, as if you’d been caught together in a lift or something. She knew who I was immediately.

You’d windmilled your arms towards me.

‘Caro. My God. What a surprise.’

I was still shaken.

‘Clearly.’

You looked at the woman.

‘Sorry, how rude. This is Christine Dearden. She’s in from our German office. I’m tasked with looking after her while she’s here.’

I squared up.

‘Well, that shouldn’t be much of a trauma, should it? Going anywhere nice?’

I was arms folded, rigid with temper. But you continued.

‘Caro. Don’t be like that.’ She was smiling. You shrugged. ‘I was dropping her off at the Ibis before I got the train home. On my way. Anyway. What’re you doing here?’

The doubt had crept in. Had I got it wrong? Had I?

‘I booked a table at The Ivy. For us.’

I glanced territorially at Christine. She just smiled at me. Maybe I had been imagining it, I thought.