"And she doesn't want Belinda's life, that's for sure. Doesn't want a huge house full of chintz and brown furniture. Bridge parties, local fetes in the garden, the flower rota at church, pillar of the local community. The only local establishment Babs props up is the pub. They'd be lost without her."

"But did she never marry? Never have children?"

“She did marry, very young, same as Mum, at twenty-one, and apparently he was gorgeous. Italian, ten years older, from a very wealthy family and absolute heaven, Mum said. The kindest man. And adored Babs, who in those days was still pretty wild, but not such a loose cannon. With no one holding the reins she's more out of control, and Filippo had those reins, albeit with a very light touch. They lived in fabulous splendor, mostly in Rome, but there was a family palazzo in Venice too, on the Grand Canal. But no children. Although, Mum says she did get pregnant once, but then got German measles, so — you know. She never talks about it and I've never asked."

"And Filippo?"

“Died of cancer when she was thirty-two. Terribly young. So Babs was a very young, very beautiful widow. Loaded, too. A house in Rome, but also something here, always, where her roots were. Filippo was like that. Knew she needed it."

“Oh, how sad. How tragic. Was she devastated?"

"Obviously. But she doesn't talk about it."

"You mean you've never asked her."

"No, she doesn't talk about it. I can sense that. She's from a different generation. You didn't blab everything to friends and therapists like we do now, you kept a lid on it, and I respect that. I'd rather you didn't, Cele."

I could well imagine Celia, spotting Babs sunbathing on the rocks, nipping down and wanting to get to the bottom of it, and of course I couldn't stop her.

"And then along came Roger?"

“Not for some time, but yes, along came Roger. They'd all grown up with her, you see. She was the pin-up girl of their generation, way out of their league in terms of beauty, style, fun — really great fun — and she'd gone for a glamorous Italian count, who luckily had also been Steady Eddy. But, suddenly, she was back. Roger was married by then, but he couldn't resist her."

"I bet. Quite a contrast to Belinda."

"Belinda had her moments. Have a look at the wedding photo in the living room, she looks lovely."

"Yes, but I can imagine what sort of lovely. An icy satin gown and demure little cape over her shoulders. A ring of white flowers on her ash-blonde, tightly piled up hair . . ." She trailed off, having almost perfectly described Belinda's wedding attire, which Belinda would have scoured the social pages of Tatler for, to get it just right.

"Whereas Babs . . . ?"