For the first time, Alice was late for the evening in the White Harte. Speculation was rife among her drinking companions: maybe she wasn’t well; either she’d had a puncture or an unexpected family commitment had delayed her.
“You have her number, Matt, give her a ring,” Jason pleaded.
“I don’t think so. The number’s not for hassling and she’ll come if she wants.”
“But she’s never been late before.” The plasterer worried that she’d changed her mind about their meal on Friday.
There was no need for anxiety because, a few minutes later, she arrived, accompanied by a smart-looking fellow whom none of them recognised. Jason’s dismay was compounded when he saw that she had linked her arm through the stranger’s. She steered him towards the corner table.
“Hi everyone,” she chirped. “You all
