‘Right.’ Bella took a large gulp of her margarita, her imagination running wild. ‘Fire away, then.’

‘I want to resign from the paper. After the last few months, I don’t think I can take much more exposure to life’s seedy underbelly …’

It took a moment or so to register. It had briefly crossed Bella’s mind that he might have wanted to propose. But this news was probably second best. ‘I … I think that’s a bloody brilliant idea! What will you do instead though? Have you had any other offers?’

‘Yes, actually, a couple, since the Lubanov exposé. But I don’t want to take them up. I think I’ll freelance for a bit. Without wishing to blow my own trumpet, I think I’ve probably got a high enough profile now not to be short of work, and I can decide what type of commissions I want to take on …’

‘Oh, yes, you could do travel writing, or restaurant reviewing, or … or … or …’ Bella’s head was spinning, somewhat selfishly, with all the fabulous freebies that might come their way.

‘Don’t get carried away.’ Andy laughed. ‘That’s hardly the kind of writing I’m known for, now is it?’

‘Oh, all right, s’pose not.’

Bella smiled up at the waitress as their plate of mixed cold meats, garnished with cornichons and black olives, arrived, along with a basket of sliced baguette.

‘Merci.’ She hated it when people didn’t thank waiters and waitresses, and always overtipped too.

‘The thing is, it’s a bit of a risk,’ Andy continued, after also thanking the waitress. ‘Many people would say I was a complete idiot to give up the security of a pretty good job in the middle of a recession.’

‘I don’t think anyone could ever call you an idiot.’ Bella was absurdly proud of Andy’s intelligence – it was one of the things she loved most about him. ‘You’ll get loads of commissions, writing about – erm, politics and stuff …’

‘I hope so. I just wanted to make sure you’re OK with it, though.’

‘OK with it? I can’t think of anything better than you working from home – we’ll hardly ever have to be apart again! Bugger the money – we’ll be fine.’ After a few drinks, Bella’s optimism was second to none. ‘Jonty was so pleased with the painting of Mimi that he said he’d introduce me to all his other friends with pets, too, so that’ll be another source of income …’

‘Do you really want to be painting spoilt Chihuahuas for the rest of your life?’

‘I can think of worse ways to earn a living.’ Bella laughed. ‘In fact, I’ve probably done most of them!’

Andy looked at her seriously. ‘I’m also thinking about writing a book.’

‘What?’ Bella was slightly taken aback, though not in a bad way. ‘Why haven’t you mentioned this before?’

‘It’s been on my mind for some time, but I’ve been so busy with the Lubanov stuff that I wasn’t sure, and—’