'How long were you married, Nick?'

'Not long. Couple of years. You?'

'Fifteen.' She made it sound like we were cellmates comparing stretches.

'Long time…'

She downed the rest of her gin a bit too quickly. I sensed her life story was about to swamp me. I pointed at her glass and mimed a scribble to the barman.

She kept going. 'You're right. A very long time. We didn't have any kids. He left me for a younger woman, of course. He's got a little girl now.'

A fresh glass appeared. The first sip went down very smoothly.

'What about you, Nick?'

'Only one.'

'How old?'

'She was sixteen.'

Her face fell. 'I'm so sorry.'

'It was a long time ago.'

'How did she… pass away… if you don't mind me asking?' Her hand slid across and gripped my arm.

'An accident. In London. She was… run over.' I didn't care if she thought I was lying or not. 'Anyway, I'm knackered – I think I'm going to head back.'

'Oh, please, I didn't mean to upset you. Please stay.'

'It's not that.' I smiled at her. 'You know what? Maybe that's why I'm here. The women in my life don't tend to stick around for long. I tend not to get that involved, you know what I mean?'

The bill arrived. I made a move for my wallet but she gripped me more tightly.

'I think you and me are exactly the same, Nick. The last thing I want is an… attachment.'

I freed my sleeve and counted out some notes. She was getting ready to leave too. 'So, Nick, maybe we could go back to the hotel and have a quiet drink there, away from the rest of the gang?'

She nodded over at the restaurant area, where a table of eight or nine was still waffling about today's highlights.

'Thanks, Di. But I think I'll just get my head down.'

I grabbed my nylon day sack and slid off the stool. I turned for the door as she finished off her drink. She wasn't giving up. 'Nick, if you can't sleep, call my room. I'll only be reading. Or I'll be downstairs with the others. Anything but sleeping. It's just so… hot…'