I’d guessed that Tom had arranged lunch but I never imagined it would in a sheltered spot on the promenade, under a gazebo. I feel tears prick my eyelids as I stare at a banner that hangs above the entrance. Happy Birthday to a Lovely Lady. Shimmering crystal blurs before my eyes. Tom pulls back a satin-draped chair and gestures for me to sit down. ‘Happy birthday,’ he says, his eyes twinkling. ‘I hope Luke won’t mind but I’ve got the best champagne on ice, and meat on the menu.’ He gives a mischievous smile. I feel sure Luke would be livid if he knew but right now Luke is the last person on my mind. After all, when has Luke ever done anything like this for me? ‘I don’t know what to say,’ is all I manage to mumble. ‘You don’t have to say anything, just enjoy.’ A waiter materialises out of nowhere and pours the champagne into our glasses.
