‘Do people still use that word?’

‘I do.’

‘And does he have a boyfriend?’

‘Oh God, no,’ said Achilles, laughing. ‘He’s so far back in the closet he’s got one foot in Narnia. But it’s only a matter of time. I fully expect to wake up one morning and find a skinny-assed boy with a bad haircut and a spotty back coming out of his bedroom with a look of utter disappointment on his face. Anyway, the point is, I’m currently single and available for selection.’

She smiled and took a bite of her cake. One of the tiny marshmallows stuck to her upper lip and he reached across to wipe it away, but she reared back in her chair as if he’d been about to hit her.

‘Sorry,’ he said, genuinely surprised by her reaction. ‘I was only—’

‘My fault,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I don’t like people touching me unexpectedly.’

‘I’ll submit future requests in writing, then.’

‘That would be preferable. So, if you’re not a spy, I can only assume that you’re something much more mundane. Like a schoolboy.’

He opened his arms wide in acknowledgement. ‘I am, as you suggest, a lowly schoolboy.’

‘How old are you?’ she asked.

‘Seventeen,’ he replied. ‘And you?’

‘Eighteen.’

‘I love older women,’ he said.

‘That’s probably for the best. If it was the other way around, you’d be a paedophile.’

‘Please. My father’s worked for the BBC all my life. I practically grew up around paedophiles. Jimmy Savile used to drop round on Christmas Eve with presents for me.’

‘Do you still have them?’

Achilles thought about it. ‘I think I have a Jim’ll Fix It badge somewhere, but I don’t really know what it means. Dad explained it to me once, but it’s so long before my time that it doesn’t hold any resonance for me. Although I believe they were quite prized items back in the day. I could probably get a lot of money for it from some nonce on eBay. I did really well with my collection of Nazi memorabilia.’

‘Does it get exhausting?’ asked Rebecca.

‘What?’

‘Keeping the patter up.’

He smiled. ‘It does, as it happens. But hey, it’s all I’ve got. I’ll need a nap when I get home.’

She looked him directly in the eye and he felt, for a moment, discombobulated. ‘I think you have a lot more than that,’ she said. ‘I mean, it’s obvious that you have …’ She waved a hand up and down in the air before him. ‘All of this.’

‘My genetic make-up.’

‘Yes, that.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘I’ve seen worse,’ she said. ‘I suppose I’m wondering what’s behind the good looks. Tell me something about you that nobody knows.’

He thought about it and looked away, searching for a funny answer but deciding against it. He would risk the truth.

‘I’ve never taken drugs,’ he said. ‘Nothing. Never smoked a cigarette, never had a joint.’

‘Really? That’s unusual.’