Mick and Fred look sternly at the man coming towards them. While he walks up to them he hands his smartphone to the secretary who slips it into a leather briefcase.

The man in the jacket and tie comes to a halt in front of Mick and Fred’s table. The woman stays a few metres behind and fiddles around with some e-mails on the smartphone.

Mick looks at him. It is by now clear that this is his son, Julian. He is an incredibly handsome man, objectively so, immaculate. Confident and sure of himself, he returns his father’s gaze. Fred’s eyes dart from one to the other as if watching a tennis match.

“What the bloody hell is all this business?” Mick asks.

“It’s a very simple business, Dad. I’ve fallen in love with another woman.”

“And I bet she’s eighteen, right?”

“She’s not eighteen. She’s thirty. A perfectly reasonable age.”

“Whatever age she is, you’ve screwed up.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“Yes, it is my opinion. Lena’s a woman of exceptional merit. Of course, I realise at this point she’s wasted on you. Too intelligent for you.”

“She probably is. Why have you made me come here? I’m not going back on what I’ve done.”

“That’s what they all say to start with. Then they beg the wife or husband to take them back. Do you know how many I’ve seen . . .”

“Mother left you and she never begged to get back together with you.”

Mick turns to Fred. “What was I telling you? Can you see who this little shit takes after?”

“Tell me, is a man a little shit just because suddenly, against his will, and having struggled like a madman to stay with his wife and booked a dream holiday with her, he simply doesn’t go because he’s fallen in love with another woman?”

“Just like your mother! Melodramatic, rhetorical and a moron.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“Well, can we know who this little tramp is you’ve found?” Mick bursts out.

“It’s me.”

Fred and Mick are stunned. They lean forward. They had almost forgotten the mousey secretary standing behind Julian and yet it is she who has spoken. She takes a step forward and confirms with dignity, “I’m the woman that Julian has fallen for. We’re going to get married as soon as he gets a divorce.”

“Precisely,” Julian says.

Open-mouthed, taken aback, Fred and Mick look at her and can find no words to say.

The woman steps up next to Julian. They clasp each other. He looks wonderful, as handsome as George Clooney. She looks the opposite.

“And who the bloody hell are you anyway?”

“My name is Paloma Faith. And I’m not a little tramp, I’m a singer.”

“We work together. I’m producing her next album,” Julian explains proudly.

Mick manages to scrape some rationality together and says to the woman, “Would you mind leaving us a moment? My daughter-in-law’s father and I would like a word in private with my son here.”