‘I don’t want to go anywhere! I just want you to tell me why, when you never intended to show in my gallery, you let me go to all the trouble and expense of setting one up.’

He looked down at her and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Would you like to go to a pub or something? Somewhere we can talk.’

‘No. I have to stay in the fresh air for a bit.’

‘If you call this air fresh.’

‘For Christ’s sake! It’s all there is.’

‘Let’s find a park or something.’

‘God, Rory! Can’t you just tell me you’ve sold me down the river here and now? Or, being an artist, do you need some goddam sylvan setting?’ She set off down the street so fast that she could hardly avoid the oncoming pedestrians.

Rory hurried after her. ‘OK, forget the park. But slow down, please.’

Thea couldn’t slow down. She had to work off the adrenalin she could feel rushing through her veins, filling her with panic.

Eventually Rory managed to get alongside her. He took hold of her arm in an effort to calm her.

Thea ignored it but let it stay. ‘So tell me. Did you ever mean to show with me?’

Just then a terrific clap of thunder deafened the world and rain, warm and hard, came down on them.

‘Jesus, Thea, this is ridiculous! Come inside somewhere.’

‘No! Why don’t you just tell me the truth? After all, I know it already. I just want to hear it from you, personally, the artist I’ve turned my life upside down for!’

They were both drenched remarkably quickly. Thea was only wearing a long cotton skirt and a little vest top. In seconds even her underwear was soaking and she watched Rory’s magnificent torso appear as the rain plastered his T-shirt to his body. ‘Well?’ she demanded.

Since the storm, she no longer felt the need to hurl herself along at breakneck speed. She stopped on a street corner, ignoring rain and hurrying people alike.

‘It wasn’t like it seems! I’d –’

‘Thea!’

As she turned she realised the plaintive little voice had spoken before.

‘Thea! You went so fast I could hardly keep up with you!’

‘Toby! Darling!’ He was drenched, his fine hair plastered to his head and he was shivering violently. To crouch down and wrap him in her arms was entirely instinctive. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I wanted to stop you running away.’

Thea, huddled on the pavement, still holding the shaking child, wanted to cry. She had been so wrapped up in her problems that she hadn’t even noticed Toby chasing after them. Anything could have happened; he could have been run over, knocked into the road, or even kidnapped.