Robert, momentarily taken aback, remained silent. He stood up, walked over to the window and looked out at the garden. The sky was overcast, darker clouds moving across the far horizon. It would start to rain soon. He couldn’t help wondering why Harry assumed he was sleeping with his intended; he reminded him of Adrian, who had fully expected him to have an affair with Vanessa, was always offering that key to the house on Farm Street.

After a few seconds, Robert returned to the table and sat down. ‘It’s going to be raining cats and dogs shortly.’ Clearing his throat, he said, ‘Are you enjoying a cosy affair with your lady?’ He raised a dark eyebrow questioningly.

Harry nodded. ‘I am. She said she wouldn’t marry a man she hadn’t tasted, that was the way she put it, because marriage is forever, and she wanted to know what she was getting.’ Harry chuckled. ‘Marguerite is a bit blunt, to put it mildly.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Robert said, also laughing. ‘But I made the decision to wait, even though Vanessa is also a bit blunt about what we should be doing until we marry. Modern women, I suppose, are like that.’

Before Harry could answer, Adrian was coming down the hall, calling out, ‘Where are the other two musketeers? Where are you chaps?’

Harry got up and went out into the long hall. ‘In here, Addy.’

Adrian embraced his old friend, and then said, ‘I think there’s going to be a thunderstorm. Maybe Robert and I should leave now. Try to avoid getting caught in a downpour.’

As he was speaking, there was a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder in the background.

Harry said, ‘Stay for a meal, as planned. Usually the worst is over in an hour or so. Better to leave a bit later.’

Robert joined them, and said, ‘Yes, we’ll stay. But we will have to leave at three o’clock.’ He grinned. ‘I have a supper date with Vanessa tonight. And I don’t want to be late.’

The three men had enjoyed the meal that Mrs Dillard, the housekeeper, had prepared for them. It was the kind of food they loved from their youth.

Shepherd’s pie made of minced lamb, topped with a mashed potato crust, steamed vegetables from the Home Farm, and gooseberry fool. A feast, as far as they were concerned.

Over lunch Robert had asked Harry about the paintings he had recently acquired, and Harry waxed lyrical about his two Cézannes and a Renoir. Robert, who also admired those artists, said he would love to see them before they left at three o’clock.

And so, once the food had been devoured and enjoyed, Harry took them down the long hall and into the drawing room where the new paintings were hanging.