After he had gone in the morning she sat on the couch, barely breathing, aware that she would never feel or know anything more precious or extraordinary than this, and that no one could ever take it away from her. In a few weeks she would see him in Nairobi. It seemed like an eternity. She floated across the living room, touching his empty glass, sitting for a moment and hugging the cushion he had leaned against earlier. In the hall she looked at herself in the mirror and saw the new softness in her face and the pure, shining joy in her eyes. Then she picked up the telephone to tell Sarah that a miracle had happened, and that nothing would ever be the same again.

Sarah was short with her, however, and Camilla thought that the memory of the nightclub at Easter would never cease to taint their friendship. But it transpired that there was a crisis with Raphael’s health, and there was no chance for Camilla to explain the events that had transformed her. For the remainder of the day she stayed at home, not wanting to put on her everyday street clothes and close the chapter of her lovemaking, unwilling to relinquish the lingering sensation of his touch on her skin, or the intensity of the way she felt about him. It was late when the telephone broke the spell and she picked it up without enthusiasm.

‘Darling, would you have lunch with me tomorrow?’ Marina’s light voice sounded anxious.

‘I don’t know, Mother. I’ve got an appointment in the afternoon, and I—’

‘We can be quick. I haven’t seen you for weeks and there’s some thrilling news. Look, I’m meeting someone at eleven. In Harley Street. Perhaps you could join me at the Mirabelle after that. About half past twelve? Please, Camilla.’

Camilla’s heart sank. Who was Marina meeting in Harley Street? Her black doctor friend, perhaps. She sighed. ‘Join you and who else? I don’t feel like being on parade.’

‘No. It’s just the two of us.’

Marina was already sipping a gin and tonic when Camilla arrived. She raised a slender hand to call the waiter. ‘You look wonderful,’ she said to her daughter. ‘There’s something different about you. What is it?’

‘Let’s order, Mother. I haven’t got much time.’

‘Have you spoken to your father lately?’

Camilla shook her head, silent now, and wary.

‘He’s going to love this new job. So varied. And he’s not hampered by the old fuddy-duddies in the Foreign Office and all those preening, diplomatic types.’

‘I thought he loved his old job.’