As I finally allowed myself to absorb the truth, it was as if a sluice gate burst within me. A torrent of emotion poured through. All the pent-up feelings of so many years released, because the thing was, I'd known this man for a long time, but vicariously, through other people. I'd never allowed myself to know him personally. I'd kept him at a distance. And perhaps deliberately misinterpreted him. Yet why would Hugo, the sweetest of men, not have a best friend who was thoroughly decent? Why would Peter turn to his adored godfather for advice over the years as I knew he did, rather than his own father? Yet whenever he was mentioned, I'd make a joke. ‘Oh Tommy,’ I’d say, 'that old roué. What would he know?’ I'd spin him into someone different. Why? A defense mechanism? Mirroring Tommy's self-confessed defense strategy, his snide mocking of me? Perhaps. Maybe we were both at it. When Shona had recently revealed a friendship, I'd questioned it immediately, had never allowed myself to know the real man, the one they all saw. And allowed was the right word. In case that way madness lay. More grief. More pain. Because recently, I'd learned how dangerous Tommy Rochester really was. He made me feel safe.

He must have seen some sort of awakening in my eyes, some sort of realization. A yielding and an acceptance. I didn't know — couldn't know — if I loved him yet, but that light was enough for Tommy. I'm sure he'd seen it a lot over the years, and it had surely never taken so long, but recognize it he did and Tommy wasn't slow. He took me in his arms and kissed me and I didn't resist. Not for one moment. In fact it was lovely. I had been kissed, quite recently, by Ted, but not like this. And never like this by Hugo, Tim, or Rupert — this was in a different league. I felt myself joining in with such enthusiasm that when Janey opened the door, we were both oblivious. Obviously we sprang apart a moment later — or, rather, I sprang away from Tommy.

Janey stared in surprise. Then a slow smile spread over her face. It became a huge grin.

"Oh my," she drawled. "Now isn't that what this house needed? And there was I thinking it was all doom and gloom. All gothic novel and Fall of the House of Usher. This is much more like it."

"Butt out, Janey," Tommy told her.

"Oh, I'm well on my way. And frankly, I couldn't be more pleased. Sante!" She swept an elaborate low curtsy with lots of hand-wafting and left the room backwards. "Carry on!" she told us before she shut the door. And, after Tommy had nipped up to lock it, I'm ashamed to say . . . we did.

Chapter 32