‘You’re making a fool of yourself, and . . .’

‘And what?’ Christine was getting angry now, her eyes flashing. ‘You think that I’m going to make you look uncool in front of your fashion friends? Is that it? I would have thought it would be rather to your credit to see your mother on the arm of an attractive man.’

‘Don’t be . . .’

‘You don’t like it, do you? The fact that I’ve got a new man in my life who just happens to be young and very good looking, and you . . .’

‘What?’

‘And you haven’t. There.’

They both picked up their coffee cups simultaneously, and buried their noses in them. They shared so many gestures and habits of behaviour that they could never forget that they were mother and daughter.

Silence fell, both of them fuming, both guarding their tongues. A cross word now would have led to a far greater estrangement than either of them wanted.

Isabelle broke the silence first.

‘I have, as a matter of fact.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Don’t you want to know who?’

‘I know better than to ask, darling. You always jump down my throat.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Well then?’

‘His name’s Will.’

‘Will? The Will?’

‘Yes.’

‘I thought he was gay.’

‘So did I.’ Isabelle sipped coffee again. ‘So did he.’

‘Oh. I see.’

‘Do you?’ It was worth telling a lie if it helped to calm her mother down. ‘Well I wish you’d explain it to me, because I’m damned if I do.’

The ice melted, and Christine put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Be careful, darling. I don’t want you to end up getting hurt.’

‘Thanks for not saying “again”.’

‘You said it. Not me.’

‘I know I’ve got rubbish taste in men. I can’t seem to help it. I always fall in love with the wrong ones. After all those wasters I dated at college, I’ve finally found myself someone I really like, we really click, he’s hard-working, presentable, intelligent, he makes me laugh.’

Christine felt giddy; she and her daughter were suddenly talking. Not arguing.

‘But are you and he . . . ?’

‘Yes.’

‘So how gay is he?’

‘I don’t know. That’s the trouble. He always has been, up till now.’

‘That doesn’t bode very well.’

‘People change.’

‘Hmmm.’

‘Oh please don’t start with the lawyer stuff again. I know you have a very low opinion of human nature.’

‘I see the bad side of it, darling. It becomes a habit.’

‘But Will’s not like that.’

‘I never said he was. I’m just saying that leopards tend not to change their spots. How old is he?’

‘Twenty-four.’

‘I would have thought that by twenty-four most young men know what they want in that department.’

‘And you’re suddenly the expert on young men, of course.’

Their eyes met, their jaws set, they both took breath to resume the argument – and they laughed.

‘Shall we start this conversation again, Isabelle?’

‘Yes.’ They kissed each other on the cheek. ‘Lovely to see you, Ma. You’re looking marvellous. Have you by any chance taken a much younger lover?’