The station bar was busy, but only with temporary customers. People drifted in, in one’s and two’s for a hurried drink with one eye on their watch or the station clock. Peter and Liz were the only two who lingered over their drinks. He ordered two malts without stopping to consider that she might prefer something else nowadays, but luckily Liz didn’t seem to mind. She nursed her single drink through three of his – Peter thought he could see amusement in her expression over his obvious nerves. He wanted to impress her, make her realise that his career and personal life had not suffered from the lack of her presence, but what was so impressive about his being an academic librarian and having a pretty wife and a small son? He could only see the smallness of his life; he didn’t see anything in it that she might find fascinating.