“Not yet – you want me ring them?”

And for preference, chain them to a wall. “Yes please,” I said.

“Sit anywhere,” said Kodi. “We make you happy.”

Now you don’t get that in ASDA. The coffee shop was right beside Reception. It was delightfully cool and smelled of freshly-roasted coffee. Six round cedar-wood tables stretched in a line from the street window to the large round dining table in the distance. Because it was darker down at the dining end, we coffee-drinkers preferred to sit as near to the window (and as close to the magnificent selection of fresh-cream cakes) as possible.

I went for a table with a clear view of the Reception area. From here, I could watch for Danni and Selena – and enjoy an uninterrupted view of Kodi at the same time. To be honest, this cute little Oriental beauty was beginning to grow on me.

At the coffee bar, Mira kept a dozen types of beans in colour-coded jars. The light-blue label had the darkest beans. Now, according to Michelle (my favourite local-Tesco supervisor), dark means strong and gives a richer flavour. Who am I to argue with the voice of wisdom? So I pointed at the light-blue label: “Please?”

Mira picked up the jar, carefully counted the appropriate number of beans into her blender, let it zip for the right number of seconds and then added a measured quantity of water. Once she had decided that the mixture was correct, she heated the contents to the appropriate temperature and then carefully poured the steaming liquid into a willow-patterned cup. While this was going on, another waitress placed a small silver tray with a jug of fresh milk and a bowl of brown crystal sugar on my right.

Once the etceteras were in place, Mira came out from behind her counter, placed the cup in front of me, stepped back, gave a wai and returned to her place behind the counter. It was all as neat, precise and seamless as your proverbial well-oiled Swiss chronometer. And it wasn’t just for me – she did the same routine for everybody.