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‘Nathan?’ I ask.

‘Yes?’

‘This is OK, isn’t it? You spending the day with me? There isn’t anyone…’ I dry up, hoping that I’ve done enough to convey what I want to say.

He turns to me, his expression serious. ‘What, like my wife?’

‘You’re married?’ I hope he didn’t hear the squeak of disappointment in my voice.

‘It depends how you define marriage,’ he says after a pause.

‘I’d say it was pretty black and white. You either are or you aren’t.’ I’m irritated by his attitude but also relieved to have found his feet of clay. He’s off limits and I can feel my attraction to him shrivelling up, which is probably a good thing.

‘There are two parts to a marriage,’ Nathan says after a pause. ‘There’s the legal part, the wedding certificate and all that goes with it, and then the emotional part where you pledge to forsake all others in favour of your spouse. I always told myself I wouldn’t get married unless it was to someone to whom I felt I could keep both sides of the promise.’

‘So what happened?’

He smiles. ‘I never got married.’

‘But you just implied…’

‘I was leading you on. Call it revenge for the manliness gland. The answer to the question you were actually asking is yes, I’m single. Why?’

I can feel myself flushing. ‘Oh, no reason. I would just hate for anyone to get the wrong impression, that’s all.’

‘You’re quite safe,’ he assures me but, once again, I pick up a double meaning in his words. I’m glad that I’m not going to be the recipient of a diatribe from his partner, but he’s also implying that he’s not going to make any moves, and that disappoints me, just a little.

13

‘This was definitely worth the journey,’ Nathan says as he takes an appreciative sip of his coffee. We’re sitting in the café at Buitenverwachting, which he’s taken great pleasure in pronouncing several times on the way up here and, indeed, since our arrival. Our table looks out over the greenest lawn I think I’ve ever seen, probably courtesy of the sprinklers that are giving the area a good soaking, making everything glisten and sparkle in the sunlight. If you were in any doubt that this is a place that takes its coffee seriously, the smell of roasting beans hanging in the air would be enough to correct you. Nathan has gone for a flat white, while I’m enjoying the best cappuccino I think I’ve had since I left my French project. Our breakfast orders were also typically predictable, with Nathan opting for the full house breakfast and me going for a slightly lighter eggs Benedict.

‘Here you go, guys,’ the server says with a smile as he sets two glasses down in front of us. ‘Freshly squeezed orange juice. Enjoy.’

‘So, according to this,’ Nathan tells me, looking at the publicity material on the table, ‘Buitenverwachting translates literally as “beyond expectation”. That’s some confident marketing right there, don’t you think?’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I reply with a smile. ‘You’re the communications expert, after all. Is that simply making a bold statement, or have they overcooked it?’

‘No idea.’ He shrugs his shoulders.

‘Sorry, but isn’t this supposed to be your bread and butter?’ I ask him. ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, that brochure is one of the ways they’re communicating with potential customers.’

‘Absolutely,’ he agrees. ‘But here’s the thing. It’s Saturday.’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘I don’t know anything about communication on Saturdays and Sundays. It’s a rule I set myself, to stop myself from working twenty-four/seven.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Nope. So, ask me about that leaflet during the week and I’ll happily break it down for you, but at the weekend, I don’t know any more about it than your average person.’

‘You spotted that it was, to use your phrase, “confident marketing”.’

‘Yes, but it’s so in your face that anyone would spot it, even your friend Jeremiah. How is he, by the way?’

‘Stop trying to change the subject. If you don’t know anything about communication at the weekend, what do you know about?’

‘I’m not sure it’s about knowing anything, especially. It’s about making time for the people around me, asking questions and showing an interest in my friends and family. It’s amazing how easily friendships drift if you don’t pay them adequate attention and, rather like a boat that’s slipped its moorings or a horse that’s escaped from its stable, they’re much more difficult to recapture once you’ve lost control of them. So, weekends are for that.’