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Cynthia called upstairs. ‘You two! Breakfast is ready.’

Tom pulled the lime-green dressing-gown off the back of the bedroom door and threw it at Natalie, then winked at her and turned towards the stairs.

‘Good news, Mum and Dad. Natalie and I are getting married. She asked me last night, and I agreed.’

Tom’s dad John twitched the corner of his newspaper to look at them. ‘Splendid. Welcome to the family, love.’ His eyes sparkled with amusement.

He’d have been a real dish, years ago, Natalie thought, as she watched him. She hadn’t noticed it before. ‘We so are not.’ She attempted to kick Tom under the table, but hit the mahogany leg instead, which really hurt. She rubbed her ankle ruefully, while Tom made a face of mock-sympathy that she longed to punch.

‘And why not, I’d like to know? He’d be a great catch. He’s handsome, clever, successful, kind…’

‘All right, Mum. Remind me to take you on all my first dates from now on.’

‘There won’t be any, will there? Not now you’re promised to Natalie…’

She couldn’t cope with the banter. Her head was really hurting now and she felt terribly sick. She put her knife and fork down, mumbled her thanks to Cynthia and went back to bed.

It was several hours later when she emerged. Tom was in the garage with his father. Tinkering. That was what they called it. As long as Natalie had known him, John had had an Austin Healey, which he kept in something like a bubble that always made Natalie think about the end bit of E.T., to protect it from the elements, and which he drove just once a year to and from a Healey rally, providing it wasn’t raining and there was no rain/ hail/snow/plague of locusts forecast. The rest of the time he ‘tinkered’ with it, and when Tom was home, he ‘tinkered’ too. The fact that the garage was somewhere Cynthia never followed them to resume talking was, presumably, a bonus. They were listening to the horse racing on the radio.

‘Nice overalls, chaps.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better.’ She smiled weakly. ‘Ready, je pense, for les parents.’

‘Wanna ride?’

‘Drive me to the pub, and I can pick up my car there?’

‘No problem. Hang on.’ Tom peeled off the overalls and laid them over a workbench.

John put his arm round Natalie. ‘Nice to see you, sweetheart, it really was. We haven’t seen much of you, these last couple of years.’

‘I know. Sorry.’

‘Nothing to apologise for. You’ve all got your own lives now. We hardly see this one, either.’ He gestured at his son. ‘I remember a time when I couldn’t move for kids. You two, Patrick, Genevieve. It sometimes felt more like a youth club in there than anything else. Miss it a bit, sometimes.’

‘But, then, Patrick brings Bella and Ed over…’

‘That’s true. Then I remember!’

‘See you in a bit, Dad.’

John kissed Natalie. ‘’Bye, love.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ They were leaning on Natalie’s car in the bright sunshine.

‘No, thanks. Bridge said she’d be over this afternoon. With a bit of luck we’ll overlap.’

‘Then what?’

‘Then…’ she sighed ‘… back to my new reality, I guess. I suppose I’m glad we never got a place together, me and Simon. At least I don’t have to go through all that moving upheaval, sharing out CDs and all that.’

‘True.’ Tom didn’t know what else to say, so he hugged her. ‘You’ll be all right.’

‘Huh.’ She felt heavy, lethargic and knackered. She didn’t feel all right.

Tom kissed her forehead, unlocked his car and climbed in. As he switched on the ignition he wound the window down. ‘And I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Friday night.’

‘Have I forgotten something?’ She didn’t think she’d had plans on a Friday night with anyone but Simon for a long, long time.

‘No. But you’ll be free, won’t you?’

She shrugged. ‘S’pose. What are you on about?’

‘I’ve made a plan…’

‘What plan?’

‘Well, you’ve got nothing better to do, let’s face it, and I’m up for a bit of a challenge, so I’ve thought of one.’

Natalie couldn’t help but smile. ‘And…?’

‘And… since you’re so sure I wouldn’t make