“Sweetest, kindest thing, too, not a bad bone. Just like you, my dear." He squeezed my shoulders and I actually wanted to kiss him. Gosh, Roger was nice. And gosh, Belinda was a cow. I saw Celia looking at me, a half-smile on her face, her eyes saying, I don't give a toss what she calls me, Flora, calm down. So I did. Deep breaths. Why was my mother a worry, why? She wasn't. Never had been. She was relentlessly cheerful and capable and only ever thought about other people.

Tommy got to his feet and, leaning around the table, topped up all the wine glasses. Something about his arm, moving between us, drew a convenient veil. I'm not sure if he did it deliberately, but I was grateful nonetheless.

“So are you over here on business?" I asked him, as he sat down. I knew normal conversation would help. That I was too quick to overreact.

"A bit," he said shortly. "But not my business."

"Oh, OK."

He didn't say any more and I was aware he was being cagey. As one often does when one's been slightly snubbed, or at least I do, I bit back.

“Shona's on the television these days, you know," I said casually, knowing her name would make him sit up.

"Yeah, I know. I saw her the other day."

"What — doing the news?"

"No, opening the fete."

"Oh, right, you mean it was on telly?"

"No, I went to the fete."

"Why?"

“To see Shona."

I stared in astonishment as he calmly carried on eating his lemon tart. A smile tugged at his mouth.

"Cream?"

"What?" He was offering me a jug.

"Oh, no thanks." I blinked, amazed. "Why did you go to see Shona?"

"Why not?"

"Well — do you keep in touch?" I blustered.

"Oh yeah. All the time. Don't you?"

My mouth was hanging open. "But — since when?"

"I don't know. Since way back."

“She never said!"

“So do you keep in touch?"

"Not enough," I admitted. "And when we do, it's mostly emails. And I suppose it's mostly about ourselves."

"Exactly." He was grinning now. "Why would she mention me?" His eyes widened innocently. He was so pleased with himself it was infuriating. "But you've seen her since you've been down here, right?" He adopted a serious tone. Oh, he was enjoying this enormously.

"Well, no, I've only been here a few days."

"Oh, OK." He contrived to look sad. "A week, maybe. But you know best."

"And I'm working, for goodness sake! Unlike you!" My voice must have carried.

"Is there a problem, Flora?" Belinda's voice cut in like ice, from the other end of the table.

"No — no, of course not," I flustered, horrified.

"I'm teasing her, Mrs B," Tommy said smoothly.

"Oh, Tommy, not you, too. You know it's Belinda!"

"Course I do, ma’am."

She wasn't sure how to take this, but I could tell she preferred it.