Max nodded. “Yes, I used to fly several times a month, Middle East, Africa, Americas, Europe. I sold reprographics machinery on large-scale contracts. The personal touch was good for business.”

The waiter was back. Max tipped him and took a sip of his pint, wiping the condensation from his fingers on his trouser leg.


“I’ve not travelled as much as you have. Dolores, by the way. Dolores Shaw.” She held out her hand.

“Max Swanson,” Max...