Kate couldn’t afford to eat out much at all, but she’d promised Becky that she’d take her to a restaurant on their first night. They drove into the small town, parked up and wandered along the high street until they came to a gourmet burger restaurant. It looked hip, fun – both things that Kate craved on a regular basis – and the clientele she could see in the window were all young. It seemed like a haven, a place where she could get a taste of what she frequently missed out on.

They walked in the door and were immediately seated by a cute-looking man of a similar age to Kate. He smiled at her as he held out her chair and she found herself blushing uncontrollably. She watched him as he walked away, wondering who he was and slipping into a fantasy of how, maybe, she might just meet the man of her dreams on this very holiday!

Becky was looking around the room, beaming.

‘Do you like it here?’ asked Kate.

‘Mummy, please can I be a cafe slave when I grow up? Please?’

‘A what?’

‘A cafe slave.’

Kate looked around, bemused. ‘Do you mean the waiters?’

‘Who are they?’

‘The people serving the food?’

‘Yes, the servants. Please, Mummy?’

Kate laughed, despite the tightness in her chest. Disappointment. Panic. Please, God, she thought, don’t let her screw up her life like I have. She knew better than to burst Becky’s bubble. ‘If you really want to. But I think you’ll probably want to do something else really exciting instead.’

‘This is really exciting,’ said Becky, in awe, as a waitress approached their table.

‘So, what’s it to be?’ Kate said to Becky. ‘Fuzzy juice? Burger? Chips?’

Becky nodded, unable to fully process the myriad of treats all at once. ‘I love you, Mummy,’ she declared earnestly, ‘and not just because of the chips.’

They gave their order while Becky gazed reverently at the waitress taking it, then, just as their drinks arrived, Kate heard a voice say her name. She turned and recognized a face, at least it had hints of its past, but was now framed by a sophisticated, sleek white-blonde bob. Lara Tomlinson. Behind Lara was a very attractive man, full of self-importance, with a windswept boy-band hair style. He looked at Kate with a vague interest, which was extinguished when he saw Becky.

‘It is you,’ exclaimed Lara, surprised.

‘Hi,’ said Kate, self-consciously. She hadn’t seen Lara for years. Lara had gone on to the well-respected grammar school, and then, Kate had heard, to university.

‘What are you doing here?’ asked Lara.

Kate shrugged. ‘Eating,’ she joked. Then, when it fell flat: ‘We’re here on holiday.’

‘Nice,’ said Lara. She stared across at the other side of the table, as if she were examining a strange creature in a zoo. ‘Is that Becky?’

Kate felt a twinge of annoyance. ‘Yes.’

‘She’s grown.’

‘Babies do.’ She paused. ‘So, what about you?’

Lara tilted her head quizzically as if she didn’t understand.