But she was looking down at his hands, and he suddenly realised she knew exactly what he was thinking. His hands were those of an international lawyer. There was not a lot of work wear there.

If she was to have fun for a year, maybe there were reasons she deserved it, he thought. She’d lost a husband…

On the far side of the restaurant, a band struck up. It was a simple quartet, playing softly enough to not disturb the diners on this side of the restaurant. There was a small dance-floor, and a couple of diners rose and started dancing.

To Nick’s surprise Erhard rose. But not to dance.

‘No,’ he said as Nick rose as well. ‘I’m sorry.’ He sighed. ‘I’m not…completely well. If you’ll excuse me for a moment…’He looked across at the dance floor, almost wistfully. ‘Maybe you could dance while I’m away.’

‘I don’t-’ Nick started, but Erhard shook his head.

‘You do. My informants say you do. And so does Rose.’ He gave an uncertain smile at them both, but there was discomfort behind his eyes. ‘Excuse me. You go on.’ And he pressed his napkin to his lips and headed towards the rear of the restaurant.

Rose watched him go in concern. ‘He seems a nice man,’ she said. ‘He’s ill. I wonder what-’

‘He’s probably doing this to manipulate us,’ Nick retorted, and she smiled, but absently, still looking concerned.

‘I don’t think so. Even if he is, he’s doing it for the right reasons, and there is something wrong. I think.’

The silence stretched on. Behind them the band launched into a lively Latin-swing number.

Nick was already standing. He went to sit down again but then thought it seemed surly.

The woman before him was beautiful.

‘You don’t look like a country vet,’ he said, and he must have sounded accusing because she smiled again.