‘After all these years,’ she said, trailing her fingers in the water. She was dazzling in a silvery-grey dress and large ruby ring, and from underneath her floppy hat, strands of hair had come unpinned and snaked down her beautiful neck. Her face was slightly rounder than before, and she had dark shadows under her eyes, but her skin was as clear as ever, her mouth as full, her legs as slender. She was wearing the same perfume, and I leaned towards her, drinking it in. I wanted to consume her.

‘Champagne?’ I asked. ‘Cigarette?’

‘You’re spoiling me.’

‘I want you to stay forever.’

‘I will,’ she said, dipping her head towards my flame. ‘I’m going to die here, I’ve decided.’

‘Planning ahead?’

‘Yes.’ She straightened back up, lit cigarette in her fingers. I noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.

‘So tell me,’ she said. ‘Have you met our hostess for tonight?’

‘Martha? Once or twice.’

‘Edie tells me she’s charming.’

I grinned, thinking that probably wasn’t the word Edie had used.

‘Who else will be there? I expect there’ve been some changes in six years.’

‘I don’t know. Carberry’s around, unfortunately, but I don’t think Freddie would invite him. Or his new wife. People say she’s tough as old boots.’

‘You’d have to be,’ Sylvie said. She took a deep drag of the cigarette. ‘Did Maia kill herself?’

‘Not as far as I know. The plane crashed.’

‘But she was flying it?’

‘Yes.’

She shrugged. Her head was wreathed in a cloud of smoke. Through it I could see her half-shut eyes, her lazy look.

‘Forget Carberry, anyway. What about your side? How’s Nico?’

‘He’s fine. Married again, to a woman called Genevieve. I love that name.’

‘I should have visited him when I was back in Europe.’

‘Life gets in the way. I wanted to call on you in Edinburgh, but Rupert was always just about to marry me.’

‘Where is he?’

‘In Australia, I hope. I paid him to go out there.’ She touched her hair. ‘How about Freddie? Is he busy?’

‘He’s getting into politics.’

‘Oh?’

‘And I don’t think Martha lets him run around as much as Edie did.’

Her fingers drummed on the side of the boat. ‘I suppose I couldn’t expect things to be the same this time.’

I ached to take her in my arms, but something inside me told me it wasn’t the right time. ‘I still love you. That’s the same.’

She looked down at her feet, smiling. ‘You mustn’t let any interested young ladies know you say that to me.’

‘Lucy wouldn’t mind.’

‘So there’s a Lucy?’

‘Lucy Cartwright.’

‘You’re all grown up now, darling.’ A small frown wrinkled her forehead and I had to resist the urge to smooth it out with my fingers. ‘Freddie Hamilton would make a good politician’s name.’