I knew nothing of the sort, I thought, palms rather sweaty on the wheel but still unable to stop smiling as I roared up the slip road to the M5. I was nothing short of outraged, frankly, at the magnitude of his arrogance and gall.

In the event, of course, I did it. I went. In an embarrassingly short space of time. Well, three months. Just before Christmas, there I was, stepping off a plane at JFK Airport. Just for a visit, I'd told him on the phone. But as I flew into his arms at Arrivals I knew it was forever.

"You ran," he said huskily in my ear, when we'd kissed.

“Did not."

"You did, dragging your bag. Look — it nearly lost its wheel."

The notion of forever was confirmed, ridiculously, in my mind, as we sailed over Robert F. Kennedy Bridge minutes later in his sensationally smart something-or-other. I'm rather afraid it might have been an Aston Martin. Tommy was casually spinning the wheel with one hand and looking extremely handsome, and I was sneaking glances and wondering if I could really be so shallow as to be incredibly impressed. Another glance at his knowing, grinning profile told me he knew I was impressed and that the whole thing was hopeless. I broke into a grin and felt my heart soar.

To be fair, prior to all this frivolity, the preceding three months had been of a much more sobering variety. Infinitely grimmer. A great deal had happened. Tommy had delayed his departure on the Tuesday and stayed another week in London. During that time, he and Hugo had gone, with Roger, to a meeting of the Environmental Audit Committee at the House of Commons. There, in hallowed chambers, they'd confessed that the strict maintenance guidelines imposed by the Environment Agency had, indeed, been breached. They cited pressure from the shareholders to maintain profits, but realized that was no excuse. The devastation, and the raw sewage spills, which, when Shona was given the go-ahead to investigate, with the help of Ted, who was like a rat up a drainpipe — were colossal.