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‘Nice,’ he said.

‘So this person in the middle represents me,’ I told him, pointing to a tiny picture I’d found of a woman slumped at her laptop.

‘Is she supposed to look exhausted?’ asked Theo, peering at it.

‘Um, she’s just writing,’ I said. ‘Typing. Look.’

I made him look at it again.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Not tired, then.’

‘No. Vibrant. Passionate. A zest for life.’

He smirked.

‘What?’ I demanded to know.

‘Nothing. Carry on,’ he said.

I gave him a look. He was on dangerous ground here. If he was just going to ridicule my hard work, then I was going to stop participating in the task.

‘And then around me is my family. And my friends here. Well, all over, really,’ I said. ‘These kids are my nephew and niece. I spend a lot of time with them when I can.’

Theo looks surprised. ‘Your brother had kids?’

I shook my head. ‘My sister. They’re eight and six. She’d tell you they were a handful, but they’re usually good as gold when they’re with me. We go to bookshops together and hang out there for hours and then I treat them to something new. Kate gets annoyed with me because she says she hasn’t got space for all these books.’

Theo laughed. ‘They have a way of lightening the mood, children, don’t they?’

I swallowed hard. Is this where he told me he had kids of his own? I braced myself. I could be cool about it, I totally could be.

Theo narrowed his eyes at me. ‘I can see your mind ticking over. You’re wondering if I have children, aren’t you?’

I laughed, a tinkling sound that felt like it came from somewhere outside of my body. ‘Not at all,’ I said. And then: ‘Do you?’

He shook his head. ‘No, Scarlett.’

Annoyingly, I felt a visceral rush of relief, which I desperately tried to cover up.

‘Oh right. Because it would be cool if you did. Obviously.’

A beat.

‘Would it?’ he said.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

‘I have a younger half-sister,’ he said, his voice low. ‘On my mum’s side. She’s . . . funny. Full of life. We get along pretty well, considering.’

‘Considering what?’ I asked.

‘Considering I don’t get along with our mum.’

‘Ah,’ I said. ‘How old is your sister?’

‘Sixteen. So weird to think she’ll be an adult soon. To me she’s still a little girl. Sometimes I think I need to adjust the way I treat her. Stop mollycoddling her.’

‘She probably loves it that way,’ I said.