On and on. Lockerbie, Carlisle, Penrith; skirting the edges of the Lake District and passing into the rugged wilds of the Yorkshire Dales. They’d been driving for over four hours when Grace woke up and announced that she was hungry. Soon afterwards a sign for motorway services flashed past, and Ben pulled in. Stretching their muscles they stepped out of the warm car into the cold evening wind that blew off the tall hills and tasted of more snow to come. They wandered from the parking area and saw more signs for Road Chef, McDonald’s and Costa Coffee. Anything would have sounded good at that moment. Ben was pretty damn hungry too. Five minutes later, they were seated in a booth for two near a window with their meals on trays. A cheeseburger, fries and a tall paper cup of black coffee for him; some kind of soya-based fake meat concoction stuffed into a sesame roll with bits of salad and a diet soda for her.

‘I didn’t know you were a vegetarian,’ Ben said, eyeing her choice of food.

She shrugged and took a bite. ‘I’m not. I’m just careful what I take into my body.’

‘What you take into your body.’

She nodded. ‘I mean, have you any idea of the crap that’s in that thing you’re eating? Let me guess. You’re going to tell me you’ve had worse, like the army made you eat fried worms or some such.’

‘No, but I ate part of a goat’s heart once, in the mountains of Afghanistan.’

Grace wrinkled her nose. ‘Yuk. How did you cook it?’

‘When your camp’s surrounded on all sides by units of enemy fighters who’d be only too happy to chop your head off if they found you, you don’t give away your position by lighting fires. So it wasn’t cooked.’

‘That’s so gross. I don’t know how people can stand that kind of life.’

He shrugged. ‘It was my life.’

‘You must have had other things in your life though. Like a wife, girlfriend, someone special, waiting for you at home, praying you’d come back in one piece. No?’

‘Not then,’ he said. ‘Too much complication.’

‘What about now?’

‘Not now either.’

‘Too much complication?’

‘Just how it is,’ he said.

‘What, are you a monk or something?’

‘Let’s just say I’m between romantic entanglements at the moment.’

Grace took another bite of the concoction and chewed reflexively. ‘You don’t like talking about yourself, do you? I suppose it goes with the territory.’

Ben knew she was right about that. Maybe he needed to open up a little more. ‘I was married once, to someone called Leigh. Engaged another time, to someone called Brooke.’

‘Didn’t work out?’

‘Leigh died.’

‘Shit. Sorry I asked.’