They ordered a glass of wine each while they perused the menu – all sorts of delicious options. They talked about how nice it seemed there, and their work that week – safe ground.

Emma chose sea bass for main, served Asian-style with ginger and sweet chilli (she might have room for dessert, that way, not having a starter) while Max plumped for a fillet steak, medium rare. She sipped her wine, a cool, crisp Chablis, as they chatted.

Something had been troubling Emma, and she needed to know before she let herself get carried away with thoughts of this guy. ‘Max … your girlfriend. How long were you together for?’

He seemed a bit surprised by the turn in conversation. ‘Oh, just over four years.’

Wow, so it wasn’t some quick fling or anything. No wonder he’d grown fond of her parents.

‘Why are you asking? That’s all over, you know. I’m not the kind of guy to mess with two women. Not my style at all.’ He looked serious. ‘And what about you?’ He turned the conversation round. ‘You seem so cautious. So, come on Emma, what is it with you? Did some guy mistreat you, let you down? It doesn’t make us all bad, you know.’

‘No, I know.’ She tried to smile, but her face felt tight. ‘It’s not that.’ She found she couldn’t answer further. This was the wrong time and place to drag out her past. She wanted to just sit, eat, relax, and try and enjoy the here and now. It was her fault for quizzing him first.

His brow wrinkled, but he realised that was as much as she was going to say on that this evening.

‘Right, then,’ he lifted the mood. ‘Are you ready for quick-fire round?’

‘What?’ Em was confused.

He started firing questions, like they were on a speed date. ‘Your age, madam?’

‘Ah, thirty-six. Yours?’ she fired back.

‘Forty.’

Ah, so she had guessed right. He looked damned fine for a forty-year-old, mind.

‘Okay, music. Favourite band?’ he asked.

‘Coldplay.’

‘Good choice.’

‘Favourite song?’ she blasted back, grinning.

‘Ooh, ‘‘Viva la Vida’’. Yours?’

‘Coldplay tunes? ‘‘Clocks’’, ‘‘Fix You’’, ‘‘The Scientist’’.’

‘That’s cheating, you’re only allowed one.’ But he was laughing.

At that point, the meal was served. It looked and smelt amazing. Emma realised that other than going to James’s or her mum and dad’s her food options had been extremely boring of late.

In between delicious mouthfuls, he asked which was her favourite movie. She settled on The Time Traveller’s Wife, that was such a special film – she’d loved the book too.

And then, he asked, ‘Last meal on earth?’

The silence was tangible, as she felt her eyes fill with tears, and her stomach convulse. She excused herself, found the ladies’ toilet and had to just sit quietly on the loo for a while, taking slow, deep breaths.