“I just don’t know when I’d have time,” said Walden. “And … I’m thirty-eight. There comes a point, when you’re single and unattached and closing in on forty, that you do stop to ask yourself: ‘Well, am I going to?’ And for some people—certainly, for me—the answer is ‘Actually, I like my life the way it is.’ I know who I am. I’m rather good at being who I am. I won’t say I don’t miss sex occasionally, or never think that it would be nice to wake up with someone. But I also think it’s rather nice to have my space to myself, and never have to worry about anyone’s time but my own. Long distance would mean carving out—”

“—hours of the day, all your free time, all those train journeys,” Laura said, “and phone calls or Zoom calls or emails—”

“God forbid, not more emails!”

Laura laughed. “Just one more thing to plan.”

“I’m not saying it couldn’t be worth it,” Walden said. “Of course these things often turn out to be worth it in the long run, for lots of people. Just … not me. Though I truly would have liked that date, I think.”

“So would I,” Laura said. “Let’s say this one counts. I’ll even walk you home.”

“We live in the same place.”

“No, we don’t,” said Laura. “You live in a cushy Victorian suite. I live in a magnolia box with a shared bathroom.”

“There has to be some money in the estates budget to do up the Marshal barracks,” Walden said. “It matters.”

“I agree,” said Laura. “It’s one of the recommendations in my report.”

Walden finished her gin cocktail and did not order another. The Red Lion had a low front door and a wonky step. “Can’t they fix that?” Laura said, as they emerged slightly uncomfortably into the darkened pub car park.

“Original feature,” said Walden. “Historical charm, you know.”

“I always feel charmed when I fall down the stairs.”

“It’s very authentic,” said Walden. “People have been doing it for centuries.”

Laura snorted. “That’s just Chetwood all over, isn’t it?” she said as they struck out for the country lane that led back from the village towards the school gates. “Like living in a theme park. Acres of countryside—weird little chapel—teachers in fancy dress for assembly—tennis courts, rowing lake, a school golf course for crissakes—and when you visit, once a term, you can take your kids out to lunch in a pub with shitty beer where they charge you extra to hit your head on the doorframe.”