‘Your host, amongst other things.’ Tom’s voice was sharp. ‘Why don’t you knock off the bottle if it makes you so unpleasant?’

Oliver’s flush deepened. ‘Why don’t you just get lost?’

Tom jammed his hands deep into his pockets as if to stop himself hitting out and left the room without a word.

After a long pause Oliver looked across at Helen as if he was surprised to see her. Then he let out a little snort of laughter.

‘I know. Don’t you say anything. Tell you what, come and have a walk. By the time we get back, everyone will have forgotten and I won’t have to do a big apology scene.’

Helen’s heart began to thump uncomfortably, but she kept her face expressionless. However badly he behaved, nothing seemed to affect his power over her.

They picked up their coats from where they were draped over the banisters and went out. A sharp wind was blowing and the sun was low in the grey-pink sky. A flock of rooks lifted noisily from the oak trees as they passed and flapped overhead.

‘Warm enough?’ Oliver asked. Helen nodded and they struck out down the lane away from the house. Oliver set a brisk pace, as if he wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and the lunch party. After a moment he began to whistle, the same handful of notes over and over again.

Helen clenched her fists inside her pockets. She had barely spoken since they had left the table but there was a jumble of words inside her. She struggled with what she wanted to say. It was important to thank Oliver for his money, and to do it without letting her obstinate feelings for him distort anything.

In the end it was Oliver who spoke first.

‘You’re not angry are you? It’d be a shame to let it stop us liking each other.’

Liking you? I’m not sure about that, Helen thought, amongst all the other things I feel about you. I love you, and you do make me feel angry, and sometimes ashamed for you. Because of all that, I’m not sure if I do like you.

‘No, not angry,’ she answered, keeping her face turned away and her eyes on her breath clouding in the cold air. ‘Surprised. Relieved. And grateful, once I’d worked it out.’

‘Grateful?’ Oliver raised his eyebrows humorously. ‘I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. Lucky escape, and all that.’

‘Not so much an escape. It just means that I can go on doing what I want to do in peace, without having to worry, and that means a lot to me. I came today because I wanted to say thank you.’

‘Well, how very clear-sighted of you. I shall stop feeling guilty at once.’