She rested her head against his comfortingly broad chest. ‘I thought that when it came to it, I might feel a little strange about their marrying, but I don’t. I’m just grateful that she’ll still be closely within the family circle. I couldn’t imagine our family without her.’

He tilted her face up to his and kissed her. ‘And I couldn’t imagine anything without you.’

They smiled at each other, two people who knew what love was all about.

From the terrace they heard the baby give another little mewl and she said, ‘I’m going to check on my grandson. He’s only three weeks old and babies need feeding every few minutes at three weeks old.’

When she stepped onto the terrace Lotti stopped arranging the glassware on the table and said in mock exasperation, ‘You’re checking up on me, aren’t you? You think I’m being a bad mother.’

‘Of course I don’t think you’re a bad mother. I just thought he might be hungry, that’s all.’

Jonathan Hugo was no longer in Max’s arms, but was lying in his pram, wrapped in a shawl as fine as lace.

‘He isn’t hungry,’ Lotti said, indulgent of Vicky’s ceaseless new-Grandma concern. ‘I finished feeding him only fifteen minutes ago.’ She put a water glass next to a wine glass on the white naperied table, saying as she did so, ‘Max says it’s nearly time to go to the station to meet Claus and Hester. Adam is driving, taking Eva, Ilse and Max with him and, if you’d look after Jonathan for me, I’d like to go as well.’

Vicky adjusted the parasol shading the pram. ‘Of course I’ll look after him for you,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘Where’s Paul? Why isn’t he taking Eva?’

‘He’s gone to collect Violet. With luck they’ll be here by the time we all get back from the station.’

Nancy, who had been attending to the glassware at the opposite end of the long table, suddenly said crossly, ‘One wine glass with a water glass isn’t enough, Lotti. We’re having red and white wine. The red wine, care of Leo. The white wine, whatever Adam has rustled up from the wine cellar.’

Lotti raised her eyes to heaven. ‘Lord, Nancy. Don’t you ever stop quibbling? I don’t know how Leo stands it.’

There was no real exasperation in her voice and Nancy grinned. ‘He stands it because he thinks I’m wonderful—which I am.’ She finished putting additional wine glasses on the table, stood back to admire her handiwork and said, ‘Where’s Eva? She went off half an hour ago to cut some roses for the table.’

‘With Ilse.’ Lotti flopped down on a sun lounger within hand’s reach of Jonathan Hugo’s pram. She was wearing a halter-necked scarlet sundress and high, wedge-heeled sandals. Her bare legs were suntanned, her toenails painted the same vibrant red as her dress.

Nancy, who was wearing a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up and wide-bottomed linen slacks, regarded her with grudging admiration. ‘You don’t look as if you’ve just had a baby,’ she said. ‘And now you’re a mother, don’t you think that embossed silver toe-ring looks odd? Shouldn’t you be more conventional—all sensible sandals and buttoned-up cardigans?’