There was no getting away from the fact that London was fairly grey on any given day, but now as winter approached, it was positively dingy. But there was still something about it that Betty found impossibly romantic. Maybe it was the thought that so many poets and authors she admired had walked these very streets, maybe the fact that all the architecture was so alien yet so beautiful and so very, very old.
They passed the Oscar Wilde monument which Betty never failed to brush with her fingers, even when there was (as now) a small and rowdy child furiously trying to ride the thing. "We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars" was inscribed at its foot, and for Betty, that was as good a motto as any.
The waitress led them upstairs and Daniel asked for a carafe of plum wine ("Hey, it's not me who has to go back to work"), Betty a peculiar yoghurt drink called Calpico that she'd become quite fond of. After a cursory flick through the rest of the menu, Daniel ordered his usual model plate, but Betty spent a while longer before plumping for the tonkatsu – a schnitzel-like dish, and the closest thing to rib-sticking that the restaurant had to offer.
"Talking of lost in translation, I'll never forget the day Sally asked me if I thought I was in Mary Poppins" (Sally was the receptionist at Dunne).
"I mean, I totally thought you were meant to say 'love' at the end of every sentence, till she pointed out that 'only cabbies and florists speak like that'. Oh, and of course Christina, but then she's Scottish. God, I miss her".
"When was the last time you saw Christina?" Daniel asked as he poked at a raw shrimp and then dipped it in soy.
"Not since the summer when she came down with William and Stuart. And of course now she's expecting again, so God only knows when I'll next see her. And NO, I won't be throwing her a baby shower".
"Wouldn't dream of suggesting it – she'd probably want some special haggis dumplings flown in", joked Daniel, "And for a guy who once had a terminal illness, Stuart's awfully fertile".
At that, Betty reached forward to give him a playful shove, only to knock over her drink. Her face reminded Daniel of that first day when she walked into the glass meeting-room wall, and he was struck by the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her tight.
"How is it that I'm still such a klutz?" Betty fretted as she used her napkin to mop at the table and her skirt. But her attention was soon diverted to the other side of the room where an old Japanese man had begun to make weird, strangled noises.
"Daniel – I think, I think that poor man is choking. Somebody do something! Call 911, I mean 999!"
Daniel stood up and rushed over to the man and got behind him as if to hug him.
Moments later, an unidentifiable object flew in an arc across the room, and the Japanese man immediately began to look better.
After participating in a lot of deep bowing with both the man and a waitress who'd been flapping hysterically at the side ("hontou ni tasukarimashita", the old man kept saying), Daniel returned to his seat, looking pale but considerably relieved.
"How did you do that? How, how - how did you know what to do?" stammered Betty in shock.
Daniel shrugged and pursed his lips. His blue eyes shimmered in the same way they did when he signed Betty's release form all those months ago.
"When … Molly was ill, I felt so out of control, so … so helpless. There was nothing I could say, and nothing I could do to stop what was happening to her. So … I … I took a class. Learnt all the basics – CPR, Heimlich manoeuvre. It was worth it if it meant that, that I could maybe … save someone. Even if I couldn't save her".
Betty reached for his hand and held it tight. Just when she thought she knew everything about him, Daniel still managed to surprise her. He looked startled, but squeezed her hand back and stared quietly at her with those pools of blue.
Betty had never seen anyone be so … so heroic. Not even when Henry jousted with Nick Pepper for her honour. Daniel had been so calm, and so collected – he'd known exactly what to do and had done it without any fuss.
All of a sudden, Betty wished she had someone like that to look after her, to take care of her and to be her permanent knight in shining armour.
And Daniel - he'd looked so strong, and so handsome, and so sexy as he took control and … no, no, no, no, NO, what the hell was she thinking?
Her face flooded with warmth as she realised where her thoughts were leading her, and she felt disgusted with herself. After all, Daniel had just been talking about his wife – his dead wife – he was a WIDOWER – she'd arranged their wedding!
And sure, he was cute and had a nice jawline, but he was her best friend – her BEST FRIEND.
No, it must be hormones – she hadn't gotten any in such a long time that she was just seeing Daniel in the same way a starving man might view a pork chop.
As she flailed into self-recrimination, she suddenly noticed that Daniel had started to stroke the back of her hand very gently. His touch was enough to send her over the edge, and she flinched as if she'd been burned.
Pushing her chair back so abruptly that she knocked over Daniel's carafe, Betty ran down the stairs and straight out the restaurant, leaving Daniel confused and dripping.