She threw the question back at him. He admitted to having a remarkably well-developed fashion sense, amazing taste in music, a thirst for Moscow Mules and a reputation for all-night partying in the lively night scene to the extent that he was lucky to scrape a two:two. ‘Plus,’ he said, ‘I smoked a tonne of weed.’

‘I noticed a cannabis shop just around the corner,’ she said. ‘Maybe we should go and buy some. That will definitely convince Suzy Spencer and Ian that I’m a Russian spy.’

‘How long were you married?’ he asked.

She was taken aback. ‘That’s a bit personal.’

‘Aren’t we getting a bit personal?’

‘Are we? I don’t think so.’ His gaze was fixed on her. ‘A long time,’ she said finally.

‘They say you were childhood sweethearts.’

‘Who is they?’

‘Julie.’

‘We met at Cambridge, so not really childhood sweethearts, no. But we have been together a long time.’

‘Have been, or were?’ She frowned at him. ‘You were together, or you are?’ he clarified.

‘That is a bit personal.’

‘Just asking.’

‘Well, don’t.’ She pushed the beer away from her. ‘How about you?’ she asked, in a clumsy attempt to change the subject.

‘Single,’ he said, and gave her another of his mega-watt smiles. Damn, she thought. Wrong question.

‘What – like forever single? Single as a state of mind?’

‘Serial monogamist.’

She tried not to meet his eye. ‘Well, I suppose there are worse things to be.’

‘With a taste for older women.’

‘Jesus!’ She burst out laughing with the shock of it. ‘Wind your bloody neck back in, office junior.’

‘I’m not really an office junior, though, am I?’

‘You are!’

‘I thought we were partners.’

He was smiling at her again and it was beginning to annoy her now. ‘My, you are a cocksure son of a gun.’

‘All right,’ he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘I’ve had three serious girlfriends. Two years, one year, two years. The last one broke my heart.’

Kate stared at the nearly empty beer glass in front of her, really wishing she hadn’t drunk so much now. ‘All right, I didn’t need to know that. We should go.’

‘You asked.’

‘Did I? This conversation isn’t going to plan at all.’

‘Really? What was the plan?’

‘You’re bamboozling me!’ Kate’s phone, which she had left on the table, buzzed with an incoming message. It was from Stuart. You here? All set for tomorrow? She flipped the phone over, but not before Callum had seen and read the message.

‘The business you have to attend to tomorrow?’ he asked.

‘Not really your affair.’

He smiled at her again. ‘Whatever you say, partner.’ He drained his glass and tried to catch the waiter’s eye. ‘One more for the road,’ he said, glancing at Kate.

‘No!’

‘I thought we were having a night on the tiles?’

‘We’ve had one.’ She picked up her phone and put it back into her handbag. ‘Believe me, this qualifies as about five nights on the tiles when you get to my age.’