‘I am saying, Esther, that keeping it casual no longer works for me. And that actually, it hasn’t for a while.’ He slapped both palms on the table, making her teaspoon rattle in its saucer. ‘I know it’s a risk, but I had to tell you. I’ve been wanting more. Of us. I want more,’ he repeated sternly, blinking several times, perhaps disconcerted by the way she was gawping. ‘I love being with you, you see.’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘Every time you go, all I want is for you to come back again. I’ve tried hinting, but you’ve always brushed it aside.’

‘Have I?’

‘I’ve even wondered sometimes whether you are still in love with Lucas.’

‘Have you?’ Esther examined the hand that had been stretched across the table and placed over hers. ‘But I don’t love Lucas.’ The certainty of the words felt good. A certainty that had, in truth, taken a while to arrive, she realised.

‘Okay.’ He started a nervous laugh, and reined it in. ‘Well, that’s good. Because… well, I know I found it difficult to let go of Izzie. More so than I’ve let on. I mean, for a while I sort of hoped she’d come back, for Lola’s sake if nothing else…’

‘Lola will be all right.’ Esther put her other hand over his, as her thoughts flew to Lily and Dylan. That family bonds could never just dissolve was one of the new insights that had settled inside her, even if, like Lucas, you had spent thirty years trying to pretend otherwise.

Marcus was staring at her, looking faintly exasperated. ‘And now I just have no idea what you are thinking. About my… proposition.’

The waitress came, said something neither of them heard, put the bill down, and left again.

‘I am thinking that…’ Esther tried and failed to stop herself smiling, savouring both the instant evaporation of all the hurt, and the power of life to wrong-foot her, again, this time so pleasingly. ‘I am touched by your proposition, and I promise to think about it.’

‘Think about it? Oh, God. For how long, do you think?’

‘For how long do I think I’ll think?’

‘Oh, I get it.’ He shook his head, grinning and rueful. ‘So now I am a figure of fun.’

‘Totally.’ The way colour and relief were flooding his face made her like him more. ‘Prepare for months of merciless mockery.’

‘Months, eh? Well, that’s a promising start, at least.’ He picked up the bill.

‘I’m afraid I haven’t any money.’

‘We could always try doing a runner. I mean, you’re certainly dressed for the challenge.’ He chortled to himself, whisking out a ten-pound note and putting it under the condiments stand, before rushing round to help her back into her wet coat.

Out in the street, the cloud had broken up, and it had stopped raining.