And there Philip is, striding into the room, bringing with him an energy that stirs up the air and makes the cream-papered walls seem to shrink inwards. Elizabeth feels the breath leak out of her lungs, almost as if his presence has sucked up all the spare oxygen.

Her first thought is that he is taller than she remembered. Taller and more … more immediate somehow. She is instantly paralysed with shyness.

‘Philip.’ Somehow she summons enough breath to speak and she smiles, a little shakily, as she holds out her hand. ‘How nice to see you again.’

‘Elizabeth.’ Philip seems amused more than anything by her formality. His bow is cursory, but his blue eyes gleam in a swift upward look as he bends to kiss her hand. His lips are warm where they graze her knuckles and she has to stop herself touching them when he lifts his head.

Turning to Margaret, he makes a big production of bowing and Margaret peeps at him from under her lashes and giggles. ‘We thought you were never coming to see us,’ she complains. ‘You’ve been back for ages.’

Elizabeth is mortified. ‘Hardly ages, Margaret,’ she says sharply. ‘And I’m sure Philip has had things to do.’

She sounds prim and priggish, in contrast to Margaret’s easy flirtation. This has all been a mistake, she thinks wildly. She has waited so long for Philip to come back and now she is too stiff and nervous to enjoy it.

‘We thought we’d have a casual supper,’ she says, gesturing towards the round table that has been set up in front of the fireplace. ‘Just the three of us.’

‘Splendid.’

If Philip is disappointed not to have a chance to be alone with her, he doesn’t show it. Elizabeth doesn’t know whether to be glad or sorry about it.

‘It’s just nursery food, I’m afraid,’ she ploughs on. ‘Fish and jam roly-poly.’

‘Sounds delicious,’ says Philip.

‘You won’t think that if it’s coley again,’ says Margaret, sitting at the table. ‘I am so sick of it. I wish rationing would end!’

‘Coley’s a lot better than some of the things I ate in New Guinea.’ Philip pulls out a chair for Elizabeth and then sits down himself. ‘Believe me, if you’re offered a choice between porcupine and coley, go for the coley!’ He winks at Elizabeth. ‘Coley’s fine by me. I might have had a problem if you’d offered me lobster, though.’

‘Lobster? We should be so lucky!’ says Margaret, talking over Elizabeth’s quiet question.

‘Why not lobster?’

‘It’s too embarrassing to tell you.’

‘Oh, go on!’

‘Well, I must have been about fifteen and I was in Greece for the reburial of King Constantine, Queen Sophie, and Queen Olga, all of whom had died in exile. It was supposed to be a solemn occasion but of course it was a big family reunion too and there were all sorts of get-togethers planned. The night before the funeral service, there was a formal dinner and I wore my first dinner jacket. They served lobster and because I was a greedy schoolboy, I ate a lot of it.