‘Why don’t you come to dinner?’ Maddy spoke impulsively. ‘You and Drew? Tomorrow night? About eight?’

‘Are you sure? I mean –’

‘Absolutely. Tomorrow the whole village will be at Newbury racecourse. It’s the Greenham – the Derby trial. I’ll just throw something in the slow-cooker for when we get back. Do you want to ask Drew and get back to me?’

‘No need.’ Caroline stood up. She was slender and elegant, and moved with feline grace. ‘Drew would love to have a proper meal instead of microwaved pizza. Thanks – we’d be delighted. You’re very kind.’

‘I’ll ask some friends.’ Maddy’s mind was racing. ‘We’ll have a party.’

She waited until Caroline had crossed the road and then telephoned Fran at Barty Small’s. She didn’t mention Peter’s visit, or his news.

‘Brilliant, Maddy. Richard’ll be on a real downer seeing as Luke Delaney’s riding Saratoga in the trial. I don’t fancy spending the whole evening with him feeling gruesome at home, and I’m dying to give Drew Fitzgerald the once-over. I’ll sort out a babysitter. Count us in.’

The freezer didn’t offer much hope. There was not enough of anything to make a decent-sized portion for one, let alone feed a dinner party. Maddy sighed. She’d have to drive into Newbury. Sainsbury’s stayed open late. She’d leave it until after the rush hour.

Brenda and Elaine arrived for their wages. Middle-aged and interchangeable with their perms and their rainbow shellsuits, they were the backbone of Shadows, cleaning like demons. She told them about the new job at Peapods, joined in some gossip about Diana, said yes, she’d ordered J-cloths and a carton of Mr Sheen, and agreed with their decision to have a few bob on Saratoga the next day. Kat, who was nineteen and already had two children, collected her money on Saturday mornings. As soon as Brenda and Elaine had pedalled away, Maddy checked the car. Elderly and unreliable, it always needed coaxing. Without switching on the engine, she sat in the driving seat and clutched the steering wheel. Her mind, as always, drifted.

Peter … She traced the outline of her lips with her forefinger. She shouldn’t have allowed it to happen. But it had been blissful. She may be independent and happy in her career, but she hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed being kissed. And Peter Knightley was a seriously professional kisser …

She didn’t hold out much hope for Stacey and Peter’s marriage, not if Peter was still prepared to seduce at the drop of a hat. Strangely, she didn’t feel any jealousy. She really didn’t want Peter back in her life, and he might as well be married to Stacey as anyone. He had always had the power to arouse her, and always would have if she was stupid enough to let him get close enough. She’d have to be more careful in future.

She leaned her chin on her hands, transferring her wandering thoughts to the activity at Peapods. Caroline’s attitude had been odd, Maddy considered. Still, she knew nothing about the Fitzgeralds. Maybe Drew was a complete bastard. Maybe he was moody and uncaring. Maybe he was a wifebeater. She shook her head. Not that. His eyes were too kind – and he’d been very sweet over the business with the boiler. Still, you could never tell.