Bev gave her a quizzical look, her phone being safely on silent mode in her bag for now. She was probably wondering if Emma had a touch of food poisoning or something, the amount of time she’d spent in the loo. Emma sat bolt upright with knees tight, body tense. She couldn’t give out any more ‘keep off’ signals if she tried. It seemed to work, thank heavens. They got to the final credits and she realised she had no idea what had gone on in the film since halfway through. She was just glad to be getting out from there. They stood up and shuffled out along the row, Emma leaving a good space between her and Nigel, allowing Pete to move up next to him as they reached the aisle.

‘Great film. Loved the bit where they water-skied up over the speed boat,’ Bev commented.

‘Yeah.’ Emma had no recollection of that part whatsoever.

Just as they reached the welcome light and space of the foyer, Emma’s phone buzzed into action. Perfect timing. Thank you, bro. She’d gladly do some extra baby-sitting for them one night. She held her mobile ready in her palm.

‘Hel-lo? Oh, oh really?!’ She overdramatised her voice, giving Bev then Nigel a concerned look. ‘What a shame … Okay, no worries, I’ll come right away.’

James was laughing down the phone.

‘Okay, bye.’ She turned off her mobile.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said to the three of them. ‘I’m going to have to go. The dog’s been sick. James, my brother,’ she added for Nigel’s benefit, ‘has been dog sitting for me. Took him for a walk, and now he’s seems really poorly. Poor Alfie.’

Bev gave her a curious look. She’d have known Emma never usually got a dog sitter in for an evening at the cinema. Alfie was fine in on his own for several hours.

‘Oh, right.’ Bev’s tone was sceptical and her eyebrows raised.

Emma then saw her friend digging in to her bag for her own phone. The text would soon clarify things.

‘Lovely to meet you.’ Emma didn’t even bother to extend her hand to Nigel who was already moving in towards her, no doubt for a farewell kiss. She ducked away, saying, ‘I really have to dash. Catch you soon, Bev. Sorry again. Bye, Pete. Bye, all.’

And she was off like a whippet to the car park and straight back home to the comfort of her little cottage. She was soon sitting stroking her best boy’s spaniel head. This was all the company she needed, right now, not some letchy Malteser-man. She wasn’t that desperate.

‘We’re just fine, aren’t we, Alfie? Just fine.’

11