‘Here’s coffee, and there’s fruit and yogurt and fresh bread. You’ll have to stay in all afternoon,’ she remarked with mischief in her eyes. ‘I’ve got a photo session at three. So you’ll be the solo welcoming committee for Piet.’

‘No! Oh no, I can’t!’ Sarah said. Panic filled her, and her throat was dry with fright so that she choked on her mouthful of coffee. ‘You can’t leave me here to meet him. Alone.’

‘Sounds like a dream opportunity.’

‘No. I need to see him with other people around, so I can get used to him again. I can’t meet him alone. I don’t know what I could even say to him.’

‘Don’t say anything,’ Camilla said. ‘Just fling your arms around him, kiss him on the mouth and drag him down on to the sofa. That should do it.’

‘Don’t laugh at me. I need time, and some sympathy. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Sarah. You sound like you’re still some fawning teenager in a convent. You’re a fabulous, grown woman ready to seduce a grown man. Eve and Adam. Just do it.’

‘I need time, and—’

‘You’ve got time. You’ve got a whole Bank Holiday weekend with him. There’s no point in wasting a moment of it. Just look alluring and beautiful. And gaze up at him like he’s God.’

‘But I’m not beautiful.’

‘Yes, you are. The Irish weather has turned your complexion into something enviable, and you look great in your new finery. Besides, he’s just a simple farmer – an escaped hayseed. Now let’s roll up your hair and choose something for you to wear. Then all you have to do is sweat it out till he gets here.’

Camilla left the flat soon after lunch, munching on an apple and carrying a canvas tote bag full of hairbrushes, combs and cosmetics. In the square below Sarah heard her hail a taxi and listened to the finality of the door slamming as the cab revved up and purred away. Then there was silence and the faint ticking of an alarm clock to remind her that he would soon be here. She would not be able to disguise her excitement at seeing him. She could never master the art of nonchalance that Camilla did so well, and he would guess and find her foolish. Or worse, feel sorry for her.

Waiting for Piet to arrive, she sat by the open window and lit a cigarette. He had written a few times, brief notes about his experiences in the Scottish Highlands. The wild countryside was beautiful, he said, with the grandeur of the lochs and the craggy shores and brooding mountains. But he could not fathom how people lived all their lives in the endless cycle of driving rain and mist, squelching through the mud in heavy boots and jackets, waiting for the next storm to blow in, grateful for a few hours of watery sunlight. They would have so much to talk about, Sarah thought. Her heartbeat was too fast and she felt breathless at the idea of seeing him face to face. She stubbed out the cigarette and jumped to her feet. What was she thinking of, smoking now, just before she might kiss him? She went into the bathroom to clean her teeth and had just put the toothbrush into her mouth when she heard the doorbell.