She told me then that she’d given up applying for new jobs and was hoping she could get her old one back. She’d apologised to her old boss for the way she’d left, citing ‘delayed grief for which she was seeking advice’, and a panel had been convened for tomorrow to discuss what had happened. She was keeping the pregnancy to herself, as was her right under employment law.

‘How pregnant do I look to you?’ she asked.

‘If I didn’t know you, I’d just think that you were having a baggy fashion moment. I’d be more concerned with working out how you are going to prevent yourself from losing your temper.’

‘I’ve been practising mindfulness techniques; perhaps they’ll help.’

‘Just think of the money.’

‘That will probably help more.’

*

Andrew came over with Emily and Cockburn and we all introduced each other. Cockburn began to tell a story about a restaurant he’d been to round the corner where you ate in confession booths, and Andrew and I inched backwards from him while Amy and Emily looked at him in amazement. ‘Do you need another drink?’ I asked Andrew.

‘I’ll come with you,’ he said, smiling. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘Your face looked thunderous before.’

I told him about the argument I’d had outside.

‘Do you want my advice, Paul? Don’t be one of those people, even if you’re right. It’s like writing below the line of a newspaper article.’

‘I know. But what else can I do? We’re not relics. Not even you, at your age.’

‘Very funny, Paul.’

He didn’t look amused and nor will I if I ever reach his age and have to deal with the ebullient and barely hidden disdain of some little shit who thinks himself superior to me because he hasn’t lived long enough to make as many compromises and take responsibility for someone other than himself.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I really am. When I admire someone I get nervous and insult them.’

‘Thank you for admiring me enough to be rude to me. Is that why you’re so miserable today? You think you’re being made obsolete?’

But before I could explain, we were interrupted by the arrival of the two women I’d argued with outside.

‘Sophie! Rochi!’ said Andrew, kissing them each in turn. ‘This is my new friend, Paul. Paul, this is my daughter Sophie and her friend Rochi.’

‘We’ve already met,’ said Sophie, ‘and had our first disagreement.’

‘Oh, it’s you! Of course! Paul was just regretting your argument. We’ve agreed between us that the great white male is a specimen only fit for zoos.’

‘That’s right,’ I said.

‘It’s funny,’ Andrew continued, ‘because he writes for a magazine called White Jesus. Reviews books and haircuts.’

‘Oh, really,’ said Rochi.