Also, there was something rather sweet about him, dressed in his new Edinburgh outfit, proud as a peacock. She was more used to her boyfriends turning up in track bottoms with stains on them of unmentionable provenance. She wished Sofia could see her now. Not that she could ask for a selfie—that would be so annoying and make her exactly the same as the waitress. Whereas anyone seeing them . . . together . . . sitting together . . . might think they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Although that would be absurd: he was awful.

But people didn’t think that, she thought. Everyone else reckoned he was amazing, people who didn’t know him. Look how lovely he’d been to the woman in the street and the waitress. They would think she was lucky.

She refused to let herself pursue that thought as the door opened with a howling jet of wind and a tall figure, not at all well dressed against the weather, bundled in, blowing on his hands, standing politely behind where Carmen and Blair were sitting, and waiting to be called forward.

“I mean, if you’re going to go to LA, you kind of have to go in style?” Blair was saying, still looking at the airline’s website.

“Oh, I totally agree,” Carmen said. “Definitely. Goodness, who doesn’t think that?”

“Hi, Oke!” said the waitress to the person who’d just come in.

Carmen stiffened, then glanced behind her. “Oh, hi,” she said. She was annoyed with herself for being caught out in a boast she didn’t really mean, which was absurd, as it wasn’t like she knew Oke; he was just a customer who came into her shop.

Oke smiled. “Isn’t it amazing?!” he said, gesturing outside. “So beautiful.”

“You don’t look dressed for it,” said Blair, and Oke’s face fell.

“Well. No. No. I suppose not.”

And Carmen felt even more embarrassed; he appeared to have on a dozen layers of clothes, but still looked absolutely freezing. It must be warm in Brazil, she thought.

“There’s a shop up the road that will sort you out.”

Oke blinked. “Thanks, man.”

“Your tea,” said the waitress, and passed a small cup over to Oke, who looked pleased to put his hands around it to warm them and paid with a five-pound note. He received very little change back.

Carmen watched it happen in disbelief. He’d been short-changed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unable to help herself. Her voice went wobbly and unreliable. “I don’t think you’ve given this man all his change?”

It felt like the café had gone silent. Everyone stared at her.