‘You said something beautifully evocative, then undercut yourself saying it was pretentious. I’ve noticed you do that.’

‘Don’t try to analyse me, Dr Hamilton.’

Minnie gave him a friendly frown and flicked her wet towel in his direction. She only meant to tap him, but her wrist got it exactly right and the towel landed a resounding smack on Quinn’s behind. He let out a yelp, clutching his bottom.

‘Oh god, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that so hard!’ Minnie laughed, covering her mouth with her hand and clutching her stomach with the other.

‘My god, woman, remind me to never really piss you off,’ said Quinn, putting on an exaggerated limp as he clutched his wounded buttock.

Minnie got the giggles and had to stop walking.

‘Seriously, I’ve never done a successful towel whip in my life. I don’t know how that landed so hard.’

‘Let’s hope you didn’t leave a permanent mark,’ he said wryly, peering down the back of his trousers. ‘Or my days of bottom modelling are over.’

They walked down towards Hampstead Heath railway station. A mobile food van was parked next to the car park, selling breakfast baps and instant coffee in small polystyrene cups.

‘Oh, shall we just get something from here?’ Minnie suggested. ‘Then we can sit on the heath.’

Quinn looked at the van then turned to look down at the row of smart coffee shops by the station. ‘Unless you wanted something a bit fancier?’ Minnie asked, following his gaze.

‘This is perfect,’ said Quinn.

‘Hi Barney,’ said Minnie to the burley bearded man who ran the van. ‘How are things?’

‘I’m good, Minnie – how was your swim?’

‘Bracing,’ said Minnie. ‘We’d like two bacon rolls and your best cup of something hot please.’

They walked back up to the top of the heath with their breakfast.

‘So, how’s business going?’ asked Quinn.

‘Well, we closed,’ said Minnie. Quinn frowned.

‘That’s a shame.’

‘It got too hard walking a financial tightrope all the time. Let’s not talk about work, you’ll probably start trying to charge me by the hour for your insights again.’

Quinn laughed.

‘How was your date at the art gallery?’ Minnie asked. ‘What was her name? Amanda?’ She said it as though struggling to remember.

‘I’m embarrassed you had to witness that,’ Quinn said, holding a hand to his forehead.

‘Which part, the office drinking or the dial-a-date?’

‘Both.’

He gave her an embarrassed grimace. She waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, he just took a large bite of his bacon roll.

‘How’s your mother doing?’ Minnie asked.

Quinn paused as he finished his mouthful. ‘OK.’

‘You don’t like talking about her.’

‘It’s been a while since anyone asked me about my mother.’