‘So you will understand why I decided that opportunity was not for me,’ I concluded, while a waiter in a starched white shirt, bow tie and waistcoat topped up my glass of wine.

Susannah and Andrew were still laughing at me.

‘They’re drugs for feral kids who have been deranged by porn. They’re not for us.’

‘Oh, that’s nice that you said us.’ Susannah reached over and squeezed my arm.

Andrew then began to tell a long story about his time working as an advisor for the Secretary of State for Education. Chloe kept touching his shoulder and throwing her head right back to laugh.

Emily came back from the toilet and yawned. She was drinking water now and refused a refill of her wine glass.

Before Andrew could finish his story his phone began to ring. ‘Sorry, let me just see if this is serious. Hello.’ The person on the other end spoke and Andrew let out a quick breath, stood up and left the table.

The table was quiet for a few seconds as we watched him stride off with his phone pressed to his cheek, stopping at one point to give it a good shake before he put it back to his ear and disappeared round a corner.

‘And how are the signs with your book?’ Susannah asked Emily.

‘Sorry, give me a second,’ said Emily. ‘I’m just going to check what’s happening.’

Emily and Andrew were gone for a while. The food arrived, and Susannah declared that we should all start eating; half my plate was gone by the time they arrived back.

‘I’m very sorry. I’m afraid I have to leave. Something’s come up with my daughter.’

‘Oh, Andrew, nothing serious?’ said Susannah.

‘Nothing very serious, no. Just irritating.’ He looked down at his brill. ‘What a waste. I’ll tell you about it another time. Can I leave something for the bill?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Susannah.

‘I might go too,’ said Emily.

‘Stay,’ I said.

‘Yes, you must,’ said Andrew.

‘You must,’ said everyone.

‘OK,’ she said, and sat down in her old seat, leaving the gap between her and Chloe. Susannah, sensing the awkwardness, turned and began to ask Chloe questions.

‘Is everything all right?’ I asked Emily, quietly. She filled a glass with wine now and took a swig.

‘Oh, that’s nice,’ she said. ‘That really is nice.’

*

I was distracted from Emily for a time by Susannah, who continued to show sympathy for my cancelled column and general despondency, and asked if I might be interested in a career in publishing. There were often entry-level jobs in sales or marketing, she said, where bookselling experience came in very useful. She gave me her card and told me I should come and talk to her. I said I would.

When I turned back, Emily was looking furious. ‘I’m going to go,’ she said.

‘Are you OK?’