When the busy waiter notices, Gemma, she tells him she’s meeting someone.

“Is it Jim?” the waiter, a large young man with a pony tail and plucked eyebrows asks.

Gemma nods as the nerves that have been missing finally kick in. She follows the waiter, surreptitiously wiping her sweaty palms inside her coat pockets as he leads her to a table where a man stands and holds a hand out to her.