I caught sight of myself in the mirror behind the bar, eyes shining. It’d been a long time since I’d laughed. And in that moment, I caught a flash of my old self—the person I used to be before. At the same time, I caught Merv’s reflection. He’d retreated back to his table in the corner with a couple of other blokes. When our eyes met, a look of unchecked hatred crossed his face. And then it was gone. He turned back to his mates and emptied his glass. The moment of unveiled malevolence was startling.

Jack noticed. ‘Are you okay?’

‘That drunk guy … if looks could kill.’

‘Merv’s pretty harmless.’

‘Of course he is … It’s just …’

‘I’m here now. Merv better watch himself.’ Jack gestured to the barman. ‘Same again.’

The wine arrived, and just as I was about to reach for my glass, Jack took it, picked up his own, and headed towards an empty table in the far corner, as far away from Merv and his cronies as we could get.

‘Won’t be a moment,’ I said, spying a rack of chips down the end of the bar. I asked for a pack of salt and vinegar. ‘And maybe one more glass of that wine,’ I said to the barman.

As I headed to the corner, I waved the salt and vinegar chips at Jack. He grinned and nodded approvingly. The table he’d chosen had a faux leather wraparound seat. He sat in the middle, back to the wall. I reached down to push the frond of a potted palm out of the way, then slid in beside him.

Tearing open the chips, I put the packet on the table. ‘Cheers,’ I said, taking the wineglass he offered.

‘Your good health.’ Jack raised his beer and took a generous swallow.

With perfect timing, a new song came onto the jukebox—‘Stand By Your Man’.

‘Oh God,’ I groaned. ‘I can’t take another country song! Save me!’

‘Twice in one night?’ Jack slid out of his side of the seat. ‘Let’s see what we can do about that.’ He fished in his pocket for a coin and spent several minutes studying the playlist on the old juke box. Before long, Loretta Lynn’s twang was replaced by Helen Reddy’s ‘I Am Woman’.

He strode back to the table. ‘Better?’

‘Much.’ I nodded approvingly. ‘You’re a true hero, Jack.’ The man beside me was certainly charming. I picked up my wineglass and swirled the straw-coloured liquid. ‘Cheers,’ I said, and drank deeply.

‘Ever gone out with a truck driver before?’ His tone was casual. His grin cheeky.

‘Can’t say I have.’ Our eyes met.

‘Well, maybe we can change that.’ He clinked my glass.

I took another sip and curled a tendril of hair around my finger.

‘So, what do you do for a living?’ he asked.