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‘I’m mortified,’ Temperance said to the barman, as he put the coffees down in front of her.

‘Really, don’t be.’

‘A moustache, though?! I’ll promise to forget it forever if you will. And then it dies with us, hopefully.’

‘But there’s your man there, too.’ The barman nodded in Abel’s direction.

‘He won’t remember. He barely remembers my name.’

He leant to one side, against a pillar. ‘That’s not how he told it to me earlier. Rumbled him too, didn’t I? Seeing the two of you together is what brought it back – a right striking couple. Anyway, your man said he spent hours scrubbing the inside of that briefcase the next day, so your mum would calm down a bit.’

‘Oh. Yeah. Still, he’s not my man and it was a long time ago. We were just idiot teenagers.’

‘Ah, but those are the things that shape you, don’t you think? Even if they were idiotic. Or maybe especially if they were.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Now then, you need to get one of these to that mate of yours. He’s not doing well, is he?’

‘God, yes. I’m Temperance, by the way.’

‘Jimmy.’

‘Pleased to meet you again, Jimmy. My good sir.’ She tipped an invisible hat and carefully carried the full tray of hot drinks away.

After two steps, Abel was by her side. ‘I can take that.’ He put his hands under the tray but Temperance didn’t pull away.

‘Thanks but I’m fine.’

‘Really.’

‘No, really.’ She shook her head firmly, her curls dancing in front of her face.

He pulled gently but instantly on the tray. ‘Please. What do you imagine Mum or Gran would say if they knew I let you carry a full try like this? My hurdling hero status is on the line.’

Temperance couldn’t quite see him clearly through the brunette curtain over her vision, so she couldn’t be sure how tongue-in-cheek he was being. From the range of Abels she’d seen over the last few days, he could be either wryly self-deprecating or stone-cold arrogant. She decided for the sake of their weird little drinks party to hope it was the first one.

‘OK. Thanks, then.’

As he took the weight of the tray from her and she pulled back slowly, she felt her fingertips catch against the inside of her wrist. Temperance hated herself for the jiggle above her diaphragm that betrayed her every time she came into contact with Abel Gulliver.

If only you were a pullover, or a pair of pyjamas, Abel. Then I could read you and find out what the hell is going on in your head.

Out on the street, Mark took in a big lungful of crisp, salty air. ‘Ooof. We really should have had that dinner, Susie. I had this project I was going to tell you allllll about, very exciting, might have . . . we’re all pissed, yeah? It’s not just me?’

‘Hmm,’ Abel managed, making a non-committal grunt.

‘No, no, I’m feeling it too. And so cold.’ Susie did a pantomime shiver, running her fingers up and down her crossed arms.

Mark blinked a lot. Then the penny dropped. ‘God, have my jacket! Of course!’ He slipped it off and onto Susie’s waiting shoulders.

‘What a gent,’ she said with chocolate-dipped venom. ‘Night then! Tee, Abel: shall we?’

‘Well, uh,’ Abel looked from Mark’s weaving figure and back to Susie, ‘I think I’ll just take a walk with Mark, see him home, stretch the legs. No need to wait for me.’

‘But we’ve got the last water taxi booked,’ Temperance broke in. ‘After that, you’ll have to get a regular taxi all the way around the headland.’

‘No worries. I’m fine.’

‘Of course you are.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ It could have been the sea breeze playing tricks on her ears, but his voice almost sounded hurt.