‘Sorry, got caught on a call,’ Chris explained, looking a little flustered, and arriving back at the table at the same time as their food. ‘Hey, I’m going to need your help with these,’ he joked, indicating the mountain of chips smothering the rib-eye and a few squirls of salad.

‘No, I’m fine…’

‘Go on, you know you want to.’ He laughed, turning the plate round so the fries were within easier reach.

‘Thanks.’ Esther took two, dipping them into the dressing that had come with her chicken salad, but which she had asked to have on the side because everyone knew that was where the calories lurked.

He watched the dunking in amusement. ‘We could ask for ketchup. Or here… have some of my French mustard.’

‘No, this is fine. Fabulous.’ The chips were very good and Esther began to relax. She took two more, and then another, relishing suddenly the simple almost forgotten pleasure of being out in the company of a warm, presentable man. Yes, she told Viv inside her head, she was an independent woman who knew her own mind blah blah, but there was being single and being lonely and, boy, had she learnt the difference. Especially when Dylan wasn’t around. An exception that would soon be the norm. Esther felt the usual flutter of selfish panic. A level results were almost a month away. Then it would be university. Then he’d be half lost to her, like Lily.

‘All right?’

She blinked Chris’s crinkly smiling features back into focus. ‘Very all right, thanks, Chris.’

‘I’m going to get another one of these – the first slipped down so well.’ He tapped his glass, waving at a waiter. ‘Are you okay with your wine? Would you like another? Or maybe a cocktail?’

‘Oh no, I am fine for now, thanks. This is delicious.’ Esther sipped her Sauvignon Blanc to prove the point. Aware of her cheeks starting to do the pulsing thing that meant she was too hot, she peeled off her jacket, draping it over her chair, and shuffled closer into the table so as to be sure of keeping her stomach out of sight. Having settled herself, she sensed Chris had been watching her intently.

‘I am seriously tempted to jump that bloody gun, Esther,’ he murmured, ‘just so you know.’

‘Are you? Well… that’s… nice.’ To be so rusty at flirting, it was pitiful – and also weird, like feeling seventeen and seventy simultaneously.

‘Leos and Capricorns are a match made in heaven, by the way – it’s common knowledge. July and January. They go hand in glove. A perfect fit.’

Esther couldn’t help laughing. ‘Well, that sounds fortunate, though I’m afraid I’m not exactly an expert on astrology…’

‘Nor me.’ He let out a roar of a laugh, tipping his head back and displaying flashes of old-fashioned fillings, reassuringly like hers.