‘A gin and tonic sounds a great idea,’ Alison replied faintly. Oh well. She’d make an effort, she told herself. They would have a drink and a chat, and she’d write the whole thing off as a bad idea from now on. I tried it, it didn’t work out, she could say to Robyn next time her daughter started nagging her. In the meantime, she hoped nobody would see them here together and jump to any false conclusions. For some reason, she found herself imagining Jeanie Mortimer walking in, with that pitying look on her face. It must be hard, Alison, when you can’t find yourself a very attractive boyfriend.

‘Marvellous! Splendid!’ cried Calum, interrupting her thoughts. ‘Two gin and tonics here, please. Excuse me. I said, two gin and tonics over here!’

The barmaid, young, with dyed black hair and a raggedy little ponytail (she would suit a nice elfin crop so much better, with those hollow cheekbones, Alison couldn’t help thinking), was already serving another customer further down the bar and shot Calum something of a poisonous look. ‘Yeah, in a minute,’ she said, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

‘Young people, eh! Terrible service you get these days. Back when we were young, people took a pride in their work, didn’t they, Alice – not to mention a pride in their appearance, as well. What is the world coming to, eh? My granddaughter, Olivia – she’s sixteen and the silly girl’s only gone and got her belly button pierced. I mean, it’s disgusting, if you ask me. It’s just not right. Nobody wants to see that, I tell her, but she doesn’t listen. Have you got grandchildren yourself, Alice?’

‘It’s Alison,’ said Alison again. ‘And yes, I have. A girl and a boy.’

‘Splendid! They keep us young, don’t they? I’ve got six of the little scamps – my wife and I had three children and they’ve all cracked on with the parenting. My word, takes you back, doesn’t it, all those milestones . . . walking and talking and first teeth, and what have you. Although Olivia, the eldest – her with the pierced belly button, this is – she’s just done her – what do you call them – not O-levels these days, is it? My memory, honestly, I don’t know what my name is half the time, I—’

‘GCSEs?’ Alison proffered helpfully, then smiled as the truculent barmaid appeared in front of them. ‘Oh, hi. We’d like—’

‘We’d like two gin and tonics, please, my good lady,’ Calum said over her. ‘Ice and a slice, that would be nice. Ha! GCSEs, that’s the chap. Yes, so she’s just taken those and . . .’ He frowned, suddenly looking blank. ‘What was I talking about?’

‘I’m not quite sure,’ Alison replied. ‘Quite a few things all at once.’