I give up on sleep when I see your face floating in the window. I swing my legs out from under the duvet and sit up, being careful not to wake my wife.

I blink your thinning hair and goatee into sharper focus against the backdrop of the night, remembering the day we met. We got to talking about vintage cars. A passion of mine that usually kills a conversation dead but when I brought up the bodywork on the Delahaye 165, your eyes lit up.

“Let me give you a hig...