Fiona kissed her mother and sat in a corner while the rest of them made polite small-talk. They discussed the NHS, the fracturing of politics and the collapse in governmental discipline. Kate told Fiona her brother had been made captain of the Compton House As, in which she showed no interest whatsoever.

Eventually, Jed’s parents politely withdrew, followed a few moments later by their son. Kate couldn’t help but notice how thin her daughter looked. Clearly, living temporarily with two doctors had not convinced her of the health benefits of eating. ‘What do you want?’ Fiona asked.

‘Nothing,’ Kate said. ‘I just have to go away in the morning for a few days, so I wanted to check you were okay.’

‘I’m fine. Where are you going?’

‘Finland.’

‘What are you going to do? Invade Russia?’

Kate tried to smile. Sometimes she had to admit to finding her daughter’s humour baffling. But perhaps she should be grateful Fiona knew enough geography to be aware the two countries were neighbours. ‘No. Just a routine thing. I shouldn’t be away long.’

‘I’ll be home at the weekend,’ Fiona said, offering an olive branch.

‘Great. I’ll really look forward to it. Shall we do some cooking together?’

‘Okay.’

‘Anything you’d particularly choose?’

‘I like that new Indian book Rose gave you.’

Kate smiled again. Her daughter was a born-again vegetarian. She couldn’t help recalling the days when their conversation had routinely flowed with such ease. What had become of them? ‘Do you speak to Dad much?’ she asked.

‘Why?’

‘It’s just Gus said tonight that he and Dad talked most days and I thought that was . . . well, very good. I hoped you did, too.’

Fiona sensed a trap. ‘I do speak to him, yes.’

‘Then that has to be a good thing, doesn’t it?’

‘Of course.’

Kate could see she wasn’t going to get much further tonight. She stood, happy to bank such incremental gains. She wanted to tell her daughter how much she loved her, how she missed the easy familiarity they had once known. But the kitchen of her boyfriend’s parents’ home hardly seemed the place. She hugged Fiona and was pleased that she got at least a half-hearted hug back. ‘Night, my love,’ she said.

‘Night.’

‘I’ll really look forward to the weekend.’

‘Me too. Enjoy Finland.’

Kate walked back down to the street outside, some spitting rain and her ever-present watchers. She spent the journey home working out how she was going to lose her tail in the morning without her pursuers discovering her escape so that they put out an alert on all aliases she had on file, which would certainly prevent her passing through Heathrow. It was not going to be easy.

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