I’m so surprised by her encouragement that I default back to my duck query.

‘So, is the book about ducks?’

‘No, it’s a proper book, so it’s not about anything really. Solid prop, though, got a serious-looking cover.’

It was a thick hardback, and as she turned it towards me I could see its title. The Satsuma Complex. The jacket was dark blue and in the middle of the front cover there was a large satsuma orange, with the silhouette of a squirrel inside. It looked shit.

‘There’s a squirrel on the front so, you never know, he might have some ducks as friends,’ I offered.

‘Do you want to read it and find out?’ She put the book on my table.

‘No, that’s okay. I’m not much of a reader to be honest and if it turned out there weren’t any ducks I don’t know if I could stand the disappointment.’ I placed the book back on her table.

At this moment the barman arrived with the plate of steak and chips I’d ordered at the bar. There was a noticeable greasy film on the plate and the knife and fork both had a little chunk of wood missing from the end of their handles. I thought about asking for another set but didn’t want her to think I was an arsehole. That’s a risky move if you want someone to like you.

‘Sorry, I was starving – haven’t eaten since I left work. You don’t mind if I tuck in?’ I asked.

‘No, not at all. I like blokes who enjoy their grub, makes me think their mind is in good order.’

‘Would you like a chip? Two chips? As many as you like really, as long as you don’t take that long one with the burnt tip.’

‘No, I’m okay, thanks,’ she replied with a look on her face that suggested she really fancied one of my chips. I ate the long chip hurriedly in case she made a surprise bid for it.

‘Hey, that bloke you were with, I saw him put something in your pocket before he left. Is he your drug dealer?’ she asked.

‘No, my only drugs are pies and Battenberg cake. He was just giving me his most pertinent phone number. He promoted me from “work contact” to “friend and family”. So that’s like three friends I have now, although I’ve only got one of their phone numbers.’

‘Do you think you’ll phone him up more often after this promotion?’

‘No, I doubt it.’

‘How do you know him? Is he your lover? Or maybe your chauffeur and your lover?’

‘No, my chauffeur killed my lover with a powerful blow to the head. I had to sack him.’

She laughed, and it felt like a significant moment. The nerves in my stomach disappeared with a tiny tommy squeaker to mark their evacuation.