I looked at him for a moment, aware that it was entirely thanks to him – to his quiet understanding, moral strength and reassuring presence – that I had managed to reply to Ruby’s text with relative calm and that I didn’t feel quite as terrified as I might otherwise have done at the prospect of a second conversation with Jason. Giles really was, I thought, the best friend and an unequivocally lovely man.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to find out a little more about Nicky’s friend?’ I asked, my mind making the small leap from consideration of Giles’s personal appeal to the possibility of him finding someone to appreciate it.

He looked up and blinked, clearly puzzled. ‘Sorry? What are we talking about now?’

‘Nicky’s offer to set you up. You didn’t dismiss the idea just because you felt so ill on Wednesday, did you?’

His confused expression didn’t lift. ‘No.’

‘OK. Just thought I’d check. Don’t want your charms going to waste.’

He leaned back in his chair. ‘I could say the same about you, of course.’

‘Except that I haven’t just been offered the chance of a date – of course.’

He returned his attention to his Kindle. ‘I’ll give it some thought.’

‘Can’t hurt,’ I said. ‘And what with your stylish nightwear, expert cocoa-making abilities and limitless patience, who could resist?’

‘I could name a few,’ he murmured.

‘Really? Who?’ I asked, intrigued.

‘Oh…’ He waved a hand airily. ‘I was referring to my adolescence. I wasn’t always the hunk of beef you see before you today, you know.’

‘Come on, Giles,’ I persisted. ‘Why don’t you text Nicky for some more info? Or is there someone at work I don’t know about?’ I asked teasingly.

In response, he sighed and placed his Kindle and mug on the table beside him. ‘You have absolutely no interest in poor Hans Rosling’s excellent book, do you?’ he said, gesturing wearily to the book lying next to me on the sofa.

‘What?’

‘You’ve done what you always do. You have chosen a book with an impactful cover, which you think will make you appear intellectual on the bus, but which you do not actually wish to read. Tonight, for example, you would much rather torture me with enquiries regarding my arid love life.’

I thought for a moment and then nodded. ‘That’s true.’