Camilla could not equate this calm acceptance of a death sentence with the fragile, often hysterical mother she knew. Now she understood too late that Marina’s depressions had been the result of something beyond her control, that her social position had been the one reliable post to which she could hold fast, the only way in which her life could remain outwardly normal. There was no preparation, no training for the path she had chosen to follow, nowhere she could feel safe or seek help. Marriage had brought her loneliness and betrayal, and a sense of shame. She had feared for her husband, resented her dependence on him, and she had loved him through it all.

‘I don’t know what to say.’ Camilla felt completely inadequate. ‘Is there something I can do? How do you feel now – I mean, are you in pain?’

‘I’m tired mainly, and breathless if I do too much. I get fevers, and my joints ache as though I have flu. I’m glad it’s not the middle of summer when everyone is running around in short sleeves and no stockings. My skin looks frightful – bruises and some horrible spotty things, and a cut that won’t heal. Not pretty at all.’

‘Actually, you look more beautiful than you’ve ever looked.’ The onset of tears was close. Camilla stood up quickly. ‘Would you like to rest for a while, and I’ll go into the village and do some food shopping? There doesn’t seem to be much in the fridge.’

‘I’d like you to tell me about being in love. About how happy you are.’

‘I’m afraid that was short-lived. An affair. I suppose Daddy told you that it was Anthony Chapman I’d fallen for. But I got it wrong.’

‘You don’t love him after all?’

‘I love him terribly. But he’s only interested in the short-term, because anything else would make too many changes in his life. I made a classic mistake, like some half-witted girl in a trashy novel. You know – great white hunter, adventure in the bush, passionate encounters in tents, with moonlight over the plains and roaring lions. I fell for it all. I was painfully naive.’

‘I’m so sorry, darling. Sorry you’re hurt. Sorry for everything, and it’s too late to make up for it all now. But I do love you, Camilla. I truly do and I always have, and that’s the only important thing left.’

Tears slid down her face and she was unable to form any more words. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair, whitening her already pale knuckles. Camilla stared into the distance and they sat without speaking, frozen in an awkward tableau that was broken by the sound of the telephone.