He wondered what Sophie’s husband had been like. Her expression had been so warm and tender when she spoke about him. It must be wonderful to love someone like that and be loved in return.

Oh, hell, he was becoming maudlin. He plumped up the pillow, trying to get more comfortable. He wasn’t taking a sleeping tablet. They left you feeling lousy all morning.

As opposed to feeling lousy in the middle of a wakeful night.

The following morning, just after ten o’clock, Donna Baxter turned in to Sophie’s drive and knocked on the door, looking forward with great interest to meeting the woman who’d made such a good impression on Jez.

She heard footsteps inside and a voice called out, ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

‘I’m Donna, Jez Winter’s personal assistant.’ She flashed a business card. ‘He said I should mention how good your almond cake was if you were at all doubtful that I was genuine.’

A woman appeared, whom Donna recognised from the TV news as the one who’d helped Jez opened the door, looking in dismay towards the people hanging around near the gate.

‘Come in quickly.’ Sophie slammed the door shut and locked it. ‘Did Jez want something?’

‘He sent me to have a chat. If we can sit down somewhere, I’ll explain.’

‘I can’t think why. But I was due for a break. Would you like a cup of coffee?’

‘I’d kill for one.’ Donna looked round with interest as she followed her hostess into the kitchen.

‘Are you as fond of cake as your employer?’

‘I didn’t even know he was fond of cake, actually. He doesn’t usually bother much about food.’ She looked at the remains of the almond cake longingly, thought of how much she’d weighed that morning and sighed. ‘I daren’t accept a piece, thank you anyway. Got to watch my weight.’ She had sturdy peasant genes and try as she would, couldn’t achieve anything approaching a fashionable, sylph-like figure. ‘And I take my coffee black, no sugar, please.’

Donna saw Sophie smile wryly, as if she’d expected this. She watched her hostess making the coffee. She’d studied the author photo inside the cover of one of the books she’d bought for Jez earlier this morning, but in the flesh Sophie Carr was much more attractive, ultra-feminine somehow, the sort of woman you could imagine wearing frilly, floaty clothes, whatever the fashion.

When they were seated, Donna took a sip of coffee and sighed with pleasure. ‘That’s seriously good coffee, thank you. Now, if we could get straight to work?’ She waited for a nod, then continued, ‘Jez is very upset about the trouble he’s caused you and sent me round to see how we can help.’ She noted the surprise on the other woman’s face.

‘I don’t need any help, thank you.’

‘Are you used to dealing with the gutter press?’

‘No. I’ve usually dealt with the more reputable newspapers and magazines. The journalists I’d met before yesterday were very kind, but these – well, they seem like a different breed.’