'If I make you a chip sandwich, will you tell me?'

'It's a crisp sandwich and no. You can't make it properly.'

'Oh come on, tell me.'

She whirled round to him in a sudden fury.

'You didn't take bets on this, did you?'

'Nope. This is something I wouldn't be so disrespectful of.'

She glared at him until she had decided that he was genuinely serious.

'Fine.'

'At least tell me you'll see her again. You look happy today and it wasn't just the wine. Did you save any for me?'

Typical Max, thinking with his stomach at the time like this.

'I'll bring you some.'

'Aha. That means I won't be welcome at your house tonight to come and pick it up' he remarked slyly.

Miranda looked away, felt a blush coming on and harrumphed at herself. This was silly.

'I don't know yet.'

Much as Max was enjoying watching her uncharacteristically squirm, he wasn't so cruel as to keep teasing her. He put his hand on her arm to get her to look at him. His expression was serious and sincere.

'Make it soon, ok? She's going to treat you so well. You deserve that.'

Miranda nodded, strangely touched. No one had ever said that to her before. She knew Max could tell that and it wasn't the most pleasant of feelings. She didn't like feelings. This was going to be a most trying time for her. Because she did feel happy.

It wouldn't be tonight. But soon. Very soon.

Her phone beeped with a message she knew to be from Maria. A series of symbols Miranda could easily recognise. Terribly vulgar. She couldn't help but laugh. Max had never heard her actually laugh and he liked it.

'Aha. So it was great! Very great.'

'Max shut up.'

'See her tomorrow night. Maybe bring her to the bar for a drink. And maybe eat the crisps from the packet. I'm sure she'll do almost anything for you but give her better British cuisine than the sandwich, will you?'

Miranda lifted her hand to smack him on the arm but the infuriating man had already strode off to the car.

He was wrong. Maria would love a salt and vinegar crisp sandwich. She knew it.