‘So, what’s up?’ asked Elizabeth as they sat down at an empty table, facing each other. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the woodwork, before immediately regretting it. The tables hadn’t been washed down after lunch yet and the sleeve of her blouse attached itself to the surface. She peeled it off, making a mental note to throw it away later.

‘An opportunity has presented itself,’ he said.

‘Does it involve ESPA Life at the Corinthia?’

‘No.’

He reached into his back pocket and removed a piece of paper, passing it across with so much reverence that it might have been a scan of their first child, which, he had already informed her, would be brought up gender neutral. In fact, it wouldn’t even be allowed to look at its own genitals until it was eighteen.

‘Have a read of this,’ he said. ‘And try not to get too excited.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ she said, unfolding the page and scanning it quickly, trying to avoid looking at the picture that accompanied the article. It didn’t take her more than a few moments to know that she would rather bore a hole to the centre of the Earth with her tongue than have anything to do with it.

‘A leper colony,’ she said quietly, more as a statement than a question. She couldn’t remember ever having used these words before and they didn’t sound quite right as they emerged from her mouth. It was as if she was talking about something that she was ninety-nine per cent sure didn’t actually exist but that just might have in the distant past. Dragons, for example. Zombies. Honest Republicans.

‘That’s right,’ replied Wilkes with a wide grin. How did he have such white teeth, she wondered? He claimed never to use whitening strips, saying they were bad for the environment, but those gnashers sparkled like a clutch of blood diamonds hanging around Naomi Campbell’s neck.

‘You want me to go to a leper colony?’

‘Well, not on your own, no. I want us to go together.’

‘We couldn’t just go to Paris?’

‘I don’t think there are any leper colonies there. If there were, I’d certainly consider it.’

‘But I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘I thought leprosy had been eradicated.’

‘It has been, for the most part,’ he replied. ‘But, luckily, there’s still a few small pockets of the world where the disease is rife. I found this small island just off Indonesia where they’re crying out for help. I know it sounds a little frightening, but just think about it. How many people in the twenty-first century get to spend time around lepers?’

‘Kevin Spacey’s lawyers?’ she suggested. ‘Prince Andrew’s boot boy?’

‘This isn’t funny, Elizabeth,’ said Wilkes, frowning. ‘Leprosy is a horrible disease that affects tens of people every year and we as a society do nothing to help them. There hasn’t been a march, a charity record, there’s not even an awareness ribbon for supporters of the disease.’