‘I’m not married either,’ I said with a wink. ‘Poppy’s dad left me when Her Majesty came calling. He didn’t murder anyone!’ I added, seeing Clio’s eyes go as wide as saucers. ‘But he was a nasty piece of work. He went down for drug dealing in the end, but they could have got him for any number of things. Poppy’s never met him but it’s no great loss, to be honest. Noah’s dad – well, that was different. He’s a nice bloke but it just didn’t work out. He’s still around, though. Takes Noah out sometimes, pumps him full of E numbers and brings him back, the usual story.’

Clio didn’t look as if this was at all usual in her world and I wondered why I was giving a stranger so many details, but it didn’t feel at all awkward, and anyway, it was so long since I’d had a decent adult conversation that didn’t revolve round work or school that I was just happy to chat. The wine helped, too.

‘What do you do?’ I asked. Clio looked confused. ‘For a job, I mean,’ I clarified.

Clio shuffled a little in her seat and focused on the contents of her glass, twisting the stem round in her fingers.

‘I don’t have a job, as such,’ she said. ‘I’ve never really found anything that appealed.’

Now it was my turn to be confused.

‘You just on the Social then?’ I asked, though I’d rarely seen anyone who looked less like they claimed benefits.

Clio laughed, loudly at first and then, when she realised that she might be causing offence yet again, turned it into more of a shrug.

‘I still live at home, with my mother,’ she said. ‘She gives me an allowance. God, does that sound ridiculous? It does. I know it does. I’m thirty-two years old and I’m living with my mother. I mean, it’s a big house. I have my own part of it with my own kitchen and . . .’

I had to fight to stop my mouth falling open.

‘I’m making this worse, aren’t I?’ she said. ‘I am your archetypal spoilt rich kid. My mother is a baroness. I went to the best school money can buy, I live in a huge house with staff to tend to my every requirement. I’ll inherit half a fortune eventually. And despite all that, I’m still not happy. I’m what you might call a total waste of air.’ A tear or two trickled down her cheek but she brushed them away. ‘God. Sorry. What must you think of me? I’m so sorry. I should just go.’

I’d never met a proper rich person before. I mean, it’s not like we were on the poverty line or anything. We did okay. But servants? That was in a different league.