‘I don’t know what you’re talking about – she had a good time on my birthday.’

‘You have such a selective memory.’ She shook her head, but she was smiling. ‘No, actually, it’s not that.’

‘Not what?’

‘It’s more – whatever you tell yourself once in your head, seems to come true for you. You can make yourself believe anything, that’s what I mean.’

I wondered if that could work with Sylvie – if I told myself she was coming home to me. I could see myself holding her in her giant bed while she rang for champagne, then nestled further into me, finally mine completely.

‘Why are you smiling?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ I said.

I called at Mahalbeth the next Monday morning, hoping to run into Freddie for the first time since I’d returned. I’d never been to the south-west part of the lake or seen his new house; Freddie had told me it was grander than Kirlton, but when it finally came into view, I realised that had been an understatement, and I stopped the car outside the grounds to admire the whole setting. It was an enormous Moorish palace backing onto the water, with whitewashed walls, crenellations, a minaret, and a red-floored courtyard out the front where lemon trees dropped leaves into a splashing, blue-and-white-tiled fountain.

Another car was leaving as I drove up. The woman inside waved languidly at me. She was pale and gaunt and wore elbow-length gloves. When she smiled, I saw her teeth were badly yellowing, making my skin crawl.

Waweru opened the door, and led me through the house and out onto the wide veranda, gesturing to the deep, flowered sofas clustered out there. Martha rose from one of them to greet me. She was wearing a lacy black dressing gown and her hair was tousled.

‘Theo?’ she said. ‘From Edinburgh, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m so sorry – I did recognise you, I just wasn’t sure. What a wonderful surprise. Are you living back here now?’

‘I am. Am I interrupting?’

‘Not at all.’ She plucked at her clothes. ‘I’ve only just got up, really – terribly lazy these days.’ She did look more dishevelled than I remembered, but still unusually pretty.

‘You don’t have guests? I just saw a car leave.’

‘Oh, that was no one. An old friend.’ She looked at Waweru. ‘We’ll have coffee.’

He disappeared, and she flopped back onto one of the large sofas and patted the seat beside her; I sat down gingerly. For the first time I noticed a chimp stretched out unmoving on the floor, his collar attached to the wall by a chain.

‘That’s Jules,’ Martha said. ‘He’s Freddie’s.’

‘Is Freddie here?’

‘He’s at some meeting or other. He might be home soon.’

Jules blinked, and tugged on his chain.