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The Hawkubites.’
    ‘That’s the one that deliberately trashes restaurants, isn’t it?’
    ‘Not at all. We get a bit high spirited sometimes, but there’s no malice in it and we always pay for the damage.’
    ‘It’s still vandalism!’
    ‘It’s not vandalism if you’re correctly dressed.’
    ‘That’s outrageous!’
    ‘That’s a quote: Oscar Wilde, who was president in 1878.’
    There was so much scorn in his voice that I found myself blushing and backing down in my response to his behaviour.
    ‘It’s an old society then?’
    ‘We were founded in 1713, which makes us the oldest, whatever the Bullingdon and the Phoenix may have to say about it, and named after a London street gang of the time. The story goes that some of our founders had actually been involved, but I doubt that’s true. Now, they were a rotten lot. One of their favourite pastimes was to put people in barrels and roll them down Ludgate Hill, just for sport. Another favourite was to rob a man and then make his wife earn the money back on her back, if you see what I mean, preferably in front of hubbie. So you see, we’re not really that bad.’
    I shook my head in what I hoped he would realise was a gesture of mature contempt for his behaviour, although he was quite obviously utterly indifferent to my good opinion. A waiter had arrived at our table to hand us menus, big white vellum booklets bound with deep-red ribbon. Our conversation changed to food, which Giles seemed to know a great deal about. He was quick to offer advice, but I made a point of making my own choices. Not that he noticed, except to comment on the wine.
    ‘I dare say the turbot is excellent, but I’m not missing out on grouse, so we’ll just have to have separate bottles. That means a half for me, as the boys in blue don’t seem to make allowances for gentlemen these days.’
    ‘You didn’t seem worried about speeding.’
    ‘Fines and the odd three points I can cope with. Getting banned is another matter. I’ll have a half of Fronsac, I think. I suggest you try the Chablis.’
    ‘I prefer Australian, the Riesling.’ I was making it up, but he didn’t comment and I was left wondering just how much useful knowledge I might be able to pick up from him; political know-how, wine and food, social graces, all things that would be helpful. Stephen was distinctly unpolished by comparison, despite his financial knowledge and having been to public school.
    The dinner was delicious, from the single oysters presented in tiny silver cups to whet our appetites right through to a slice of the darkest, richest chocolate cake I’d ever eaten. By then I was every bit as mellow as I’d been after my trip to Brown’s, but also telling myself that if men kept on treating me to lavish dinners I was going to have to take up running, or even try out for the Ladies’ boat. The one thing that marred my pleasure, as I sipped coffee and nibbled at a mint, was that Giles was sure to proposition me and I’d have to turn him down.
    I wasn’t sure whether I really wanted to or not because, while his good looks and easy charm appealed, his air of arrogant superiority very definitely did not, but that wasn’t the issue. If I gave in I could see all too clearly that I’d just become the latest on what was probably a long list of conquests, and that he’d then move on to somebody else. I couldn’t turn him down flat either, or he might decide I was a prude and lose interest, and then there was Stephen.
    ‘Shall we go?’
    ‘Um? Yes, let’s.’
    He’d broken into my thoughts, making me wonder if I’d seemed rude, but as usual he appeared not to have noticed, so wrapped up in himself that he was blissfully unaware of my nervousness. As we walked out to the car I was expecting him to try to put his arm around me, or at least make some gesture of affection, but he was talking about different ways to prepare grouse and seemed oblivious of the situation we were in, at the end of a date,