Camilla put the telephone down and went to the front door. She opened it and glanced along the corridor, but there was no one there and she wondered if she had begun to imagine things.

She slept late and could not remember her dreams, so that when she opened her eyes she felt light with relief. It was Friday and her father would surely be home tonight or tomorrow. There were eggs and bacon in the fridge, and she thought of Marina as she made herself breakfast. Outside she could hear the familiar screech of buses pulling up short on the Brompton Road, and the sound of sweeping as a gardener raked early-autumn leaves from the garden square below her window. She stirred cream into her coffee and leafed through a new copy of Vogue. But the sight of her own face, perfect and unblemished, ate into her resolve and diluted her new-found courage. She put the magazine aside and turned on the radio. Why did anyone listen to The Archers anyway? But the sound of the familiar country voices was comforting, and she wrapped her dressing gown around her and lay on the sofa, happy to be in her own secure space, in a place where she felt at ease once more. She had survived a night on her own, had begun the return to normal. She would take it slowly as Mr Carradine had advised. After an hour she dressed and pulled a wool hat from Biba over her forehead. She was hunting for her keys when she heard the telephone.

‘Camilla, are you all right?’ She felt as though she was floating as she took in the sound of his voice. ‘Jesus, I just heard this morning when I took my clients in to Keekorok Lodge for lunch. I wish I’d still been there with all of you, that I’d been able to help. Killed the bastards if possible. Tell me you’re all right.’

‘I am all right. I have a plastic surgeon who says I’m going to look like new. I’m so glad to hear from you.’ Her heart was pounding, her blood racing through her and making her dizzy. She tried to remain coherent, waited for him to say that he would fly to London the moment his safari was finished.

‘I’ve been in camp since you left. The manager here told me the news, and I managed to get Langani and talk to Hannah. Look, I’ll be back in Nairobi in three weeks. Then we’ll talk more.’

‘Do you still plan to be here in November?’ She needed reassurance so badly. ‘I’d really like that – the best medicine I can imagine.’

‘Well, I hope so. I haven’t worked out exact dates, but I’ll let you know when I can.’