Tilly had laughed as much as Marco. She had made Jomier feel that he was funny. Jomier taps the ‘Page Down’ key on his keyboard and reads about their first encounters. Their first dates. How fresh we are when we are young. No template. No matrix. No mould. Each willing to be shaped by the other – as malleable as dough. No, he had not been dull when he had been young. Life had dulled him just as it had dulled his father. A seed of dreariness sowed in both at their conception like original sin. The Huguenot gene. And in Tilly? The seed of deceit? Had she always thought ‘this is the first: there will be others’ or ‘he’ll do for now’? Or had she thought ‘this is for ever’? Or ‘this is for ever . . . for now’? Is that all love can ever be? For ever for now? If one does not choose to fall in love then can one be blamed for falling out of love? Was it culpable of Tilly to fall for Max? Was it culpable of Jomier to become dull? All agree that it is wrong to be insincere. To lie. To pretend. Does that make it wrong for a lover to put his best foot forward? To hide little weaknesses from Judith such as a penchant for watching Under Siege 2 for a third time? Jomier did not pretend to Tilly that he was someone other than he was: he could not know that with the passing of time he would become dull. But is he now pretending to Judith that he is someone other than he is? Is Judith modifying the opinions she expresses to suggest a greater compatibility than in fact exists?

There have been gentle arguments over breakfast and in Indian restaurants, but also silences. Judith clearly feels strongly about certain things. Global warming. Palestine. Religion. The Murdoch Press. Feminism. Gay marriage. Reproductive rights. Her morning newspaper is the Guardian. Jomier’s is The Times. She questions the morality of reading a Murdoch newspaper. Jomier says it costs less than the Guardian. She gives a little snort as if to say this is an inadequate excuse. Would she rather he read the Telegraph? Another snort. ‘If you really want to start the day with a picture of some minor member of the royal family in wellington boots.’ Jomier does not: this is why he does not take the Telegraph. He takes The Times because it is the most innocuous of the morning newspapers.

‘It’s hardly liberal,’ says Judith.

‘No, libertarian,’ says Jomier.