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from Will in return.
    â€˜Lottie reckons you’ve got a fine one. And yes, I know it sounds as if we’re objectifying men, but she started it. And as she’s gay I think she’s probably allowed to.’
    Dirty Sam had been eyeing up a female diner on another table, but he pricked up his ears. Any whiff of talk about sex and he was in like a Jack Russell down a foxhole. ‘What did you think of mine, then?’
    â€˜Sorry, we didn’t get that far,’ Carmen replied, regretting her cocky comment if it was going to get Dirty Sam all excited.
    â€˜Well, we could do a comparison now.’ He took a quick look round the restaurant. ‘Come on, Will, stand up. I reckon I could take you any time.’
    This was precisely why Carmen usually avoided going anywhere with Dirty Sam where alcohol was served, because when drunk he invariably wanted to drop his trousers. His hand was actually on his fly right now. Carmen put her head in her hands, but before DirtySam could flash the room, Mamma Mia appeared and said in a booming voice, ‘Samuel, sit down and don’t even think about what you were about to do if you
ever
want to come into my restaurant again. And that includes the café. There will be no more bacon butties for you.’
    Suitably chastened, Samuel sat down. But as soon as Mamma Mia was out of earshot he said, ‘Mine’s bigger than Will’s, I swear.’
    Everyone ignored him and started talking about Lottie’s recent trip to Goa.
    A few minutes later the lights dimmed and an expectant hush fell in the restaurant. On cue Mamma Mia walked across the room, stately as a galleon, bearing a chocolate birthday cake blazing with candles and sparklers, and everyone burst into a raucous rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’. Will looked faintly mortified but still made a big show of blowing out the candles and giving Mamma Mia yet another hug and a kiss.
    â€˜So, what did you wish for?’ Lottie asked him, just after he had cut into the cake.
    â€˜He can’t tell you!’ Trish exclaimed in genuine outrage. ‘Or it won’t come true.’
    Carmen smiled at Trish and as she did so caught Will looking at her – a searching look, and one that she couldn’t hold right now.
    Mamma Mia insisted everyone have a glass of Strega on the house. It was a strong Italian liqueur and an acquired taste in Carmen’s opinion – on a par with glugging a glass of petrol – but no one wanted to riskupsetting Mamma Mia, so they all raised a glass to her and knocked it back.
    At midnight Lottie took charge of asking for the bill, overruling Will’s comment that he should pay, even though Dirty Sam, who was mean as well as filthy, perked up at the suggestion. Then, with a few last hugs from Mamma Mia, the party were out in the cool September air where, in one last, desperate match-making act, Lottie corralled the others, leaving Carmen and Will alone, and practically frogmarched them towards Oxford Street before anyone could protest.
    Carmen made to follow them, but Will put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Stay with me a minute. I want to talk to you. I really didn’t mean to upset you earlier.’
    â€˜You didn’t, it’s fine,’ Carmen lied.
    â€˜I don’t believe you, but I think you’re not going to tell me.’ He put his other hand on her other shoulder. ‘You know, there was one thing you forgot to do today.’
    Carmen looked blank.
    He drew her closer. ‘You forgot to give me a birthday kiss. I’ve had one from Trish, Lottie, Christina, and even Daisy kissed me, and you know how she feels about physical contact; I’ve had about twenty-five from Mamma Mia, but not a single one from you. And you’re the only person I’ve wanted to kiss all day.’
    Wow! Even in her present state of decline Carmen was not immune to such a comment – her stomach went into free fall and the hyperactive