‘Same,’ I said, before changing my mind. ‘Oh, actually. Something fizzy? Champagne?’

‘Good shout,’ Patrick declared. ‘Me too. Thanks.’

‘Back on point – about the murder and then the text. They’d appreciate that,’ I tittered. ‘Keeps everyone in the loop that way.’

He grinned, but then got sombre and said: ‘Seriously though, do you want some ground rules? Not to sound serious, but it might help for us to set out expectations, or guidelines or whatever.’

It made sense.

‘Like what?’ I asked.

He considered it. ‘For example,’ he began, ‘I presume these places will only have one bed. As your guest, and as a gentleman, I will obviously take the sofa or the floor wherever that’s the case.’

The waiter returned with two flutes of bubbles and set them down.

‘Oh, that’s kind but …’

Patrick held up a hand. ‘No,’ he insisted. ‘That’s what makes me feel most comfortable. We can always ask for twin beds whenever we check in somewhere, but if that isn’t an option then you take the bed and I’ll kip elsewhere. It’s only right. Keeps things proper, doesn’t it.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘That’s a generous thing to say, and probably sensible too. Can you imagine if you woke up to me spooning you because I thought you were …’ His name caught in my throat. I didn’t want to say it out loud to Patrick. Obviously he knew all about Alexander but I didn’t want to sully the trip by there being the shadow of a third wheel present. Plus I wanted the practice of nipping any thought of him in the bud, too. That’s another truism my grandmother had always said: Only water the thoughts you want to grow. I wanted thoughts of Alexander to wither away to nothing. ‘Anyway,’ I continued. ‘Good ground rule. For both our sakes.’

‘Is there anything you want to add? Oh, and cheers by the way.’ He held up his glass and tapped the rim of it against my own.

‘Cheers,’ I echoed. ‘Here’s to …’ I thought for a moment. What did I want to cheers to? To being there. To saying yes. To taking a chance. That’s what I wanted to celebrate.

‘Cheers to the “why not?”,’ I settled on.

‘Cheers to the “why not?”!’

We took tentative sips and the bubbles hit my tongue and fizzed in my mouth. It tasted like freedom.

‘We should have a code word,’ I said. ‘In case we irritate each other.’

‘Do you think we will?’

‘That’s just it, isn’t it? Who even knows? We don’t actually know each other much at all, so we could …’

‘True, okay, so … what? If we need some space or a time out we say …?’

A music video played on the TV just beyond Patrick’s head, and as my eye drifted in an attempt to retrieve a clue from the world I immediately found one.