“Rowland, you shouldn’t have said that. Gini hasn’t been well. She didn’t mean—”

“I don’t give a damn. Someone had to say it. Let her go for her walk. If she walks the whole way back to London, I won’t grieve. Max—let me call John Lane. Or Chris Huxley. One of them should be available. If he left London now, he’d be here in an hour and a half.”

“Use the phone in my study. I’ll come with you. I’d better speak to Landis.”

Max followed Rowland from the room. In the kitchen, Charlotte and Lindsay exchanged glances. Lindsay crossed the room and sat down next to her.

“Oh, Lindsay.” Charlotte gave a sigh. “I wish I’d never invited her. That may not be too charitable either. But I do.”

“I don’t blame you. Charlotte, don’t get upset. She’s being impossible, she’s been impossible all morning. This is the worst I’ve ever seen her.”

“She was up at six.” Charlotte gave her a worried glance. “I heard her moving around. Then I went back to sleep. Lindsay, she claimed she’d slept well, but I’m sure she hadn’t. And she’d been trying to call Pascal again.”

“She didn’t get him?”

“No.” Charlotte hesitated, then met Lindsay’s eyes. “Is it over, Lindsay? Has she said anything? I think it is over. As soon as I saw her yesterday, I knew.”

“I’m not sure. It’s what I’m beginning to believe. Why would he stay away so long? First he was staying for two weeks, then it was four. Then he was coming back for Christmas… Charlotte, it was going to be their first Christmas together. She bought a tree, she bought all these presents for him—I can’t tell you how happy she was. Like the old Gini used to be.”

“And then he didn’t come?”

“No.” Lindsay gave her a troubled look. “I didn’t find out until afterward. I assumed he was there as planned. But he wasn’t. She spent the whole Christmas holiday alone.”

“Alone? But what about her stepmother?”

“She’s away. Gini claimed she’d spent the time with some friends I’ve never heard of. I know she was lying. She can’t stand being pitied, Charlotte.”

“I know.” Charlotte shook her head sadly. “Well, Rowland didn’t pity her anyway. Lindsay—I wish he hadn’t said that. I know he was upset, and I know he’d had no sleep, but Rowland can be so harsh.”

“It might do her some good. You never know.” Lindsay frowned, glanced at Charlotte. “You know what she said, when she mentioned fifteen-year-old girls?”

“How they could behave? Yes. I may not want to remember, but I do.”

“Well, there were reasons for that, Charlotte. Very personal reasons. I’m sure she identifies with Mina. Do you know how old she was when she first met Pascal?”

Charlotte did not; and Lindsay then told her. She described their first meeting in Beirut, and their six-week affair. She described the intervention of Gini’s father. She was aware that in telling this story she was breaking Gini’s confidence, and as she came to the end of it felt ashamed.