‘I don’t like the foil. Taking it off makes my fillings vacillate.’

‘You want me to take it off for you?’

‘No, the foil is a deal-breaker, Gary, do you not understand that?’

‘Fair enough, I’ll have it myself, then.’

As I walked over to the settee to fetch the Viscount from her she suddenly raised her hand to indicate that I should cancel my approach.

‘Not so quick, lad,’ she said. ‘You still haven’t answered my question: is there anything else you can offer me other than the Viscount?’

‘I’ve got a Kit Kat Chunky.’

‘Fuck off with your Kit Kat Chunky. I can’t cope with that, not with my teeth.’

‘I could do you a slice of toast?’

‘That’s not much of a treat. I have toast every day. I more or less live off the stuff. What about a slice of Battenberg?’

‘I’ve got a couple of those little cardboardy chocolate wafers from the coffee shop?’

‘What about a slice of Battenberg?’ she enquired with a knowing look on her face.

‘How about some Nutella on a cream cracker? That’s almost birthday celebration standard…’ I replied.

‘Gary, I can see the Battenberg on the counter and there’s a good two inches left. That’s an inch each. Having that would feel like passing your driving test and having someone do your ironing on your birthday. Come on, let’s do it.’

‘You sure the marzipan won’t make your teeth vacillate?’

‘Positive.’

I sliced the Battenberg and put hers on a saucer. My slice was significantly thicker but I hid it from her view by eating it from the palm of my hand.

‘When are you going to make this place more of a home? Look at it. You’re living like a squatter. You’ve nothing here that you couldn’t just run away from and leave behind. It all feels, I don’t know… temporary.’

‘It suits me fine. It reminds me that I’ve got to keep moving on, keep an eye out for opportunities that might arise and entice.’

‘Come off it, Gary, you’re as set in your ways as I am. I see you every day walking out to work with your shitty suit on and your plastic briefcase with nothing in it. You look about as dynamic as an abandoned fridge.’

‘Thanks, Grace. Anyway, I thought you wanted to hear about the girl I went looking for?’

‘Go on, then. And, by the way, this slice is barely half an inch. If I starve to death it’s on you and only you.’

I started to tell her about my trip to the Grange estate. After she had finished her Battenberg she put one of her hands inside the sage slipper beside her and interrupted my flow.

‘You are really smitten by this girl, aren’t you?’

‘Why would you say that? I hardly know her.’