In a waking state, the porno screenings cease. Jomier is able to reassure himself that his feelings for Annie are noble, disinterested, sincere, but that the nobility, disinterest and sincerity do not preclude an erotic component. He feels he may be falling in love and has reason to believe that his love is returned. He moves cautiously: it is not impossible that he has misread the signals. An appreciation of an older man’s solicitude is not necessarily an invitation for him to make a pass. As he pays the bill after a third lunch at the Trattoria Umberto on Dover Street, he suggests an evening date. A movie? A play? Or simply supper? ‘What about next week? Say Friday?’

She wobbles her head as if it will open her Filofax in her mind. ‘Yes, I’m sure. I’ve left my diary at work.’

‘I’ll ring you.’

‘No, honestly, don’t bother. Friday will be fine. If I’ve anything on, I’ll cancel.’

They kiss on the cheek as they part but her kiss lingers. Jomier returns to Hammersmith on the Piccadilly Line in a daze. I’ll cancel. The misery of the depressed cocu has been transformed into a lover’s exaltation. He is loved. He is in love. He almost skips as he walks across Ravenscourt Park and wants to embrace all the bored young mothers and sullen au pairs. How long will it be before it is Annie pushing a buggy containing their child? And it will be one in the eye for Tilly when she hears that he has pulled a girl around the same age as Louisa.