‘That man is really awful. He’s all puffed up with himself, like some horrible little Puck in boots.’

‘His wife was quite fiery. I don’t know how much of it you could hear, down at your end, but she gave their friend Bruce quite a tongue-lashing,’ said the history teacher.

‘He seemed pretty dreadful, too. His wife looked exhausted. Probably from having to live with him.’

‘The daughters seemed nice though. And it’s an amazing house, you must admit.’

‘The house was nice. And the handsome Australian boy.’

‘What’s he doing there?’

‘I didn’t get around to asking.’

‘I wonder if they’ll all be like that. The rest of the staff, I mean.’

‘I shouldn’t think so. I hope not.’

In the other car, Carolyn was driving.

‘You should’ve gone to look for Hamish,’ she was saying. ‘Now I’ll have to go back and fetch him tomorrow.’

‘I don’t know why you couldn’t have looked for him. Anyway, I can get him if you can’t be bothered.’

‘I was in the middle of a conversation with the teacher’s wife.’

‘Yes, she looked interesting. Didn’t catch her name, did you?’

‘No.’ Carolyn sighed. It was predictable that Bruce would describe a younger, pretty woman as interesting.

‘Typical of Nick to put her next to him,’ said Bruce.

‘Well, he couldn’t very well not,’ said Carolyn.

‘The Australian boy was nice,’ said Lucy from the back seat.

But her parents were thinking their own thoughts about the evening and neither of them answered.

Stephen didn’t draw the curtains in his room. He liked sleeping with the window open, and the curtains too. He wondered where Cass had got to. Of course she would have a boyfriend, he should’ve known that as soon as he first set eyes on her. But no one had mentioned Hamish, that was what had thrown him; if he’d known, he could’ve got himself ready, psyched himself up. He wasn’t sure what he’d have prepared himself for, though. He wasn’t sure, either, whether it made things worse or better that Hamish was so ordinary. If he’d been the best-looking guy ever, or the cleverest or the funniest, at least then he’d have been worthy of Cass.

He’d think about it in the morning. For now he was tired. He lay, looking at the milky softness of the moonlight which fell across the carpet, drifting towards sleep. And then the door opened and there was a figure in white standing in the patch of moonlight, matching it; and the arms rose, lifting the filmy whiteness of her nightdress up and over so that it fell away.

‘Budge up,’ said Helena, lifting the covers and sliding naked into the single bed beside him.

‘Hi,’ said Stephen, opening his arms to take her in.

‘Hi,’ she said.

10.