He sat in Michael’s peripheral vision, so they were shoulder to shoulder. They were both well dressed, and could be brother and sister, or old friends. They could be lovers, too, escaping from the grind of long, tedious marriages having met at the choral society, or a book club – but they looked very much like man and wife, if only because they played cards together, and looked so comfortable. Their clothes were from the same catalogue, and Michael should go to Settle, apparently – the man felt confident enough to suggest it, as if he knew instinctively that Michael would appreciate the place. Michael couldn’t help but wonder if there was any specific reason, and he nearly laughed. He knew he was drunk.

‘Nice place?’ he said lightly – and he just managed to prevent the mint flying from his mouth.

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ said the woman – and her voice dipped for the first syllable of ‘beautiful’ to turn it into two. She gave the second that special emphasis, for Settle was clearly very special. A lot of towns and villages were beautiful, but this one, it seemed, was enchanted.

‘They haven’t been allowed to spoil it,’ said the man. ‘It’s got its problems, of course it has. Traffic, needless to say, in the summer—’

‘But the main street,’ said his wife, cutting in neatly. ‘It’s an absolute picture. They have a flower festival.’

‘Really?’

‘It’s magical.’

‘Do you live there?’ said Michael.

‘Well,’ said the man. ‘Yes and no.’

Yes and no? Yes, they did, but no, they didn’t – and did Michael dare get his juice out, just to top himself up? The bag was on his lap, so it wouldn’t be a difficult manoeuvre – but would these two people notice the smell? They wouldn’t suspect the colour, but the scent might alert them to the fact that they were sitting next to someone drinking neat whisky.

‘Ah,’ the man might say, as he expanded his nostrils. ‘Do I smell a Tomatin malt?’

‘You do!’

‘Good man!’

His hand would be extended, and they would shake firmly.

‘I have a flask of my own,’ the man would say. ‘Just here! Untouched!’

They might suddenly become the firmest of friends, bonded by their relish of good whisky and the whole Highland culture. What was more likely, however, was that the stink of Michael’s surreptitious boozing would mark him out as dangerous or unpredictable. In any case, weren’t they just too wrapped up in Settle and the wonders of the main street where they did and didn’t live? They might not even notice, let alone care.

‘We’re buying a flat,’ said the woman. ‘It’s off-plan, and we haven’t quite completed. We’re off for a third viewing.’

‘Congratulations,’ said Michael.

‘Thank you.’

‘Life’s going to change, then. Do you have family there?’