‘Sounds good. I’ll go for something a bit spicier.’

Their drinks arrived and Jamie drained a third of his pint in one go, gulping it down thirstily.

‘Take it easy, Jamie.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You’ve been drinking an awful lot recently. You won’t be able to carry on like that.’

‘I know. We won’t be able to afford it for one thing.’

‘Are you worried about the cost of having this baby?’

He shrugged. ‘I haven’t had a chance to think about it yet. But no – I’m not too worried.’

‘I’ll have to go part-time, and nurseries around here are so expensive.’

‘We’ll be fine. There are people a lot worse off than us who get by.’

She touched his hand. ‘I’m so glad you’re so positive about this.’

‘Why, did you think I’d be unhappy?’

‘No. I knew you’d be pleased. It’s just that with all that’s been going on, I thought you might think the timing was bad.’

He placed both his hands over hers. ‘Kirsty, we wanted this baby. That was understood from the moment you told me you’d stopped taking the pill. God, we could worry about the timing all our lives, and there’d always be something to make us want to wait. As far as I’m concerned, now is the perfect time. I don’t want to sound like a drippy git, but I want us to be a family.’

She smiled. ‘You do sound like a drippy git.’

‘Ah well, sod it. Sometimes, a man’s got to be drippy.’

The samosas came, along with a large pile of poppadoms, and they began to eat.

‘This is gorgeous, isn’t it Jamie?’ There was no answer. ‘Jamie?’

He was staring over her shoulder at the door, a samosa held in front of his open mouth.

‘Jamie, what is it?’

He spoke quietly. ‘Don’t look over your shoulder, but guess who’s just walked in.’

When somebody said, ‘Don’t look, but,’ Kirsty was, without fail, compelled to look.

She wished she hadn’t. ‘Oh God. I don’t believe it.’

Lucy and Chris came in through the front door and Chris spoke to the nearest waiter. They were directed to a table over the other side of the restaurant, close to the kitchens. They didn’t look over at Jamie and Kirsty. Jamie thought they looked a little tense and on edge. Maybe they weren’t used to eating out. Something about they way Chris studied the menu; the way that Lucy was ever-so-slightly overdressed for this modest backstreet Indian: it pointed to the fact that they weren’t sure of the etiquette or the rules. They were more used to dining at home.

‘Do you think they followed us?’ Kirsty whispered, leaning across the table, not taking her eyes off her neighbours.