He patted her shoulder awkwardly and went back to his family.

‘Come on,’ said William. ‘I can’t wait to talk to you alone.’

The kitchen was full of Ismene eating chocolate brownies, and the sitting room had an aunt, lying flat out on the sofa, hat askew, snoring gently. Eventually they went into the tiny office where Ulysses had been having a nap. Now he’d been woken, he stalked off to join the party, scattering hair as he went.

Gilly was dying of curiosity and anxiety in case William had bought her something she didn’t really want. Would she be brave enough to tell him so it could be sent back?

He pulled an envelope out of his inside pocket.

It was a holiday, she decided. That was OK.

He handed her the envelope. ‘I’ve been talking to your neighbour and her son,’ he said. ‘They were willing to sell this.’

Bewildered, she opened it. It took her a few moments to take in what she was reading. ‘The orchard,’ she said a little breathlessly. ‘You’ve bought the orchard. Oh, William! I never dreamed this could happen.’

‘It’s for you, it’s a present.’

Gilly wasn’t worried about the details, she just wanted to hug him. So she did. ‘Oh, thank you so much, William! Now we can have a proper wedding!’

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Chapter One

Paris, Autumn 1963

Alexandra still couldn’t quite control her excitement. She was in Paris! True, it was only for twenty-four hours, but the October day was bright and full of possibility. She loved Paris, although she’d only visited it once, years ago, when her nanny had taken her, so that she, the nanny, could visit her boyfriend. Paris had made a deep impression on her and she was enjoying every moment of being there.

Tomorrow, she would get on a train to Switzerland and go to a finishing school, or whatever her well-meaning, unimaginative guardians thought was a good idea. But today was hers and she’d already done quite a bit of exploring.

She pulled the belt of her mac a little tighter as a gust of wind caught her as she stood at the foot of Montmartre, looking up at the Sacré-Cœur, thinking how beautiful it was. She was about to set off up the very many steps towards it when she heard a little scream behind her. She turned to see a pretty young blonde woman with long hair, her hands against her face in a gesture of horror. There were potatoes and onions rolling away from her feet and a broken string bag in her hand. She was on the verge of tears.

‘I can’t believe this!’ the woman wailed. ‘You think a day has started badly and it just gets worse and worse!’