‘You’re going to spill your drink.’

Around the wrist was a gold watch with a heavy plaited gold band. It looked like it weighed several pounds. It looked like it cost several hundred.

‘Did your mother never tell you not to stare?’

I started to laugh. It was really the only thing to do.

‘Your suit was too much for me,’ I said.

My mother, of course, wouldn’t have noticed it. She would have noticed his eyes. ‘Never trust men with grey eyes,’ she would have said, and I would have laughed at that too. Silly me!

He took the first finger of my left hand and ran it gently down his sleeve from elbow to wrist. I had been right about the wool, it was as soft as velvet. He then let go of my finger and handed me back my glass.

‘Satisfied?’

‘Impressed.’

‘So am I.’

At that I laughed.

He looked mildly surprised, possibly a little offended not to be taken seriously.

We stood in silence for a moment or two looking at each other.

‘Shall we go?’ he asked.

‘Where? Why? I’ve only been here half an hour.’

‘You can’t surely be enjoying this.’ He waved his hand towards the rest of the party. ‘Are you with someone?’

‘No.’

‘So why don’t we go?’

‘I don’t know you.’

‘How bizarrely old-fashioned you are.’

He put a hand into an inside pocket and took out a card which he handed to me. James Cavan. There was a lot of other information also that I didn’t bother reading. I handed him back the card.

‘Thank you, Mr Cavan.’

‘K’van. We pronounce it K’van.’

‘And J.a.m.e.s. How do you pronounce that?’

He looked a bit cross.

‘I’m only trying to be friendly.’

‘I’m sorry. We just call it Cavan at home. You took me by surprise. When I’m taken by surprise, I make silly jokes.’

‘Where is home?’

‘Ireland. We have a county called Cavan. One of our more boring counties, I do have to say.’ I finished the wine in my glass.

He said nothing, just stared at my face as I must have stared at his suit.

‘Midlands, a bit flat and wet. No spectacular scenery.’

‘Thank you. I’ll avoid it.’

I laughed again.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘Now that’s out of the way, how about dinner?’

‘My objection still stands.’

‘Dinner is the time to get to know me. And for me to get to know you.’

He took hold of my elbow and began to steer me towards the door. I didn’t put up much resistance.

In the elevator he spoke. ‘French? Italian? Chinese?’

‘It’s Friday. You’ll be lucky if you get a table anywhere.’

‘I have ways and means. Just tell me which you’d prefer.’

‘Well, if you insist …’

He nodded his head vigorously.

‘Italian.’

He beamed. ‘I thought so.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means I thought you looked like a lady who would eat Italian. A lady with romantic inclinations.’

The doors opened and we stepped out into the big hallway.