A Night In With Grace Kelly. Lucy Holliday

mum was born in Slovakia.’

      ‘Wow, so you’re … Brazilian-Slovakian.’ His vanilla-fudge skin and mysterious accent are making a bit more sense. ‘That’s quite a mixture.’

      ‘Yeah, I’m just an old mongrel,’ he says, with a short laugh. ‘Well, maybe not that old, thirty-nine next birthday. And you’re … what? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?’

      ‘Nice try,’ I say, wryly. ‘I’m thirty.’

      ‘Never!’

      ‘Again, nice try,’ I say. ‘But yes. Thirty.’

      He grins back. ‘Thirty is good. In fact, thirty is terrific. You know, I accomplished more from the age of thirty onwards than at any other time in my life.’

      ‘Good to hear.’ I sip my wine. ‘So. You’re thirty-eight. And you’re a personal trainer. Do you enjoy it?’

      ‘Yes, I do enjoy my work.’ He sounds oddly stilted, but after another sip of wine, he goes on, a little less awkwardly, ‘I mean, I have some really great clients. And some good people working for me.’

      ‘Oh, wow, so you actually own FitRox, then? I thought you were just one of the trainers who worked there.’

      ‘No, no, I’m not one of the trainers.’

      ‘That’s amazing. Running the place, I mean. But is it ever difficult, owning your own business like that? Because I suppose I always thought it would be the most incredible fun – and it is, don’t get me wrong – but are there ever times when you feel like it’s not turning out quite how you wanted it to?’