"I don't see why, I'm very good for you, Flora. You take yourself far too seriously."

It was true, I did. And my son. All that was to change. But not quite in the way I imagined. I'd resigned myself to Peter loving New York, where he'd been for the past month doing an internship, but in fact, he found it rather sharp and frantic. A bit too full on, he'd told me on the phone. At least right now. A bit too Wall Street. Maybe later. In a few years’ time. A taster had been a good idea. The best. He started at Oxford in October — thankfully he hadn't given up his place — so that by the time I flew out to see Tommy in December, he was almost at the end of his first term, and coming with Mum, for Christmas, in a couple of weeks’ time, in fact. We were all going to Tommy's mother's house, or, actually, his sister's, on the Connecticut coast.

Tommy's mother, of course, I'd met before, and had adored. Neither of us could really believe our luck as she walked into Tommy's apartment in New York to visit us. We hugged, and then she stood back and took both my hands in hers. As we faced one another in Tommy's book and picture filled living room overlooking the Museum of Natural History on the Upper West Side, the years slid away: back to the two of us in my studio in London, where she'd shyly brought a few pictures to show me and admired mine.

"I'm so pleased, my dear," she told me, blinking hard. "It's the most wonderful Christmas present I could possibly imagine. I don't mind telling you you'll be so good for Tommy."

"And him for me," I assured her.

She glanced down at my hand. “May I see?"

I proudly showed her my engagement ring. Which, naturally, had been another story.

"You don't think it's too soon? That we're being too hasty?" I'd asked Tommy, after he'd presented me with it in Central Park, on our way back from the Museum of Modern Art. It was a sunny, frosty morning and we were huddled together on a park bench in a patch of winter sunshine, hugging each other close. I twirled it on my finger, mesmerized. "I mean, obviously, yes, please, with all my heart. I'm completely thrilled. But—"

"You're right," he agreed suddenly. "We're far too young. Let's wait till at least one of us is in our bath chair." He went to snatch it back but I was too quick. I held my hand high above my head as he reached for it.

"Not so fast, Mr Rochester. This ring is staying right where you put it, but I think you've forgotten something."

"Which is?"

"I'm English. You haven't asked my mother."