Beyond her, he could make out the edge of her bed, a cabinet next to it with a picture in a frame sitting atop. He felt a frisson of excitement, a desire to be in there, to see more of her personality; the flat reflected her neatness, but nothing else.

They passed the thirty-minute journey in affable small talk. The car over-revved a little on the clutch and Tony was aware of not drawing attention to themselves, so he drove carefully, both hands on the wheel, afraid to take his eyes off the road for too long.

They found the restaurant after a few wrong turns and having to stop to ask for directions. Tony had been reluctant, in case someone remembered them later if anyone asked, but Karen had dismissed this as being a ‘typical man’ and, afraid to prove her right, he’d capitulated and pulled in. The youth who directed them barely even glanced at them anyway, lifting his head long enough to indicate with a light nod the direction in which they needed to go.

When they reached the restaurant, though, they realised that the car parking extended all the way around the place. Tony circled around a few times.

‘Where should we park?’

‘He said the back,’ Karen said. ‘There’s a few spaces over there.’ She pointed across to three free spaces either side of a street lamp.

‘Maybe we need to park it somewhere darker?’ Tony said. ‘If someone doesn’t want to be seen.’

Karen nodded. ‘It’s up to you. Someone over at a car in a dark corner’s going to look like a car thief. Out in the open’s less likely to raise any suspicions.’

‘Boot in or out the ways?’

‘In might make more sense,’ Karen said.

Tony nodded, reversing into the spot.

‘Are you sure this is it?’

Karen glanced out at the building in front of them. ‘That’s Watson’s.

‘What if this is wrong?’ Tony asked, suddenly.

Karen looked across at him, held his gaze steadily in hers. ‘What? The restaurant? Or the whole thing?’

‘It just feels… wrong in some way.’

‘Don’t over-think it. We’re doing nothing wrong,’ Karen said. ‘We’re going for some food and then driving home in a car a friend lent us for the evening.’

Tony wasn’t sure, but she sounded so convinced herself, and the hand she laid briefly over his on the gear stick was so warm, so soft, that he nodded. ‘You’re probably right,’ he said.

‘First lesson learnt,’ Karen smiled. ‘I’m always right.’

As they walked away from the car, he felt an urge to double-check that he hadn’t locked it inadvertently and went back and tried the handle, then closed the door softly. The doubt still assailed him once they were inside the restaurant.

Sitting at the table, Tony could see Karen’s eyes again, was reminded that she’d claimed to have eaten her own twin.

‘Is it odd?’ he asked, apropos the thought, which he had not shared with her.

‘Is what odd?’ she frowned.