The morning dragged. Maddy had polished muddy footprints from so many parquet floors that the novelty had worn off along with the grime. She didn’t want to go back to the cottage for lunch. She had absolutely no appetite. If she didn’t watch it she’d be pinching Suzy’s Michael Bolton CD.

The rain had stopped and the puddles were evaporating in the combination of a brisk breeze and strong sunshine. Deciding to grasp the nettle, she pointed her bicycle in the direction of Diana and Gareth’s yard. She’d almost reached the tunnel of lilac trees when a white Porsche swirled around the bend. Maddy wobbled. The car screeched to a halt.

‘Maddy! Maddy! Just a minute.’

The car reversed until it was alongside her and she felt a surge of annoyance as Stacey beamed out of the window. ‘Sorry if I startled you. I always drive too fast. I was just coming to see you.’

‘Why?’

‘We came around last night. Peter left you a note. He thought you’d call him first thing.’

‘I can’t imagine why.’ Maddy, in her Oxfam jacket and leggings, her hair tied back with a scarf, felt ten stones heavier and twenty years older than the bimbo stick-insect in her bone-tight jeans and silk shirt.

‘It was about the golf course.’ Stacey pouted. ‘Peter was ever so disappointed that you’d gone to the meeting.’

‘For God’s sake, Stacey. What Peter does or thinks is of no interest to me at all.’

‘But it’s so silly. I mean, what can a lot of old ducks do to stop it? And why should they want to? It’ll make more jobs and bring in more money and –’ Stacey had obviously been subjected to a huge dose of the Knightley rationale.

‘I’m sorry,’ Maddy interrupted, ‘but I can’t agree with you. I know Peter and your father are prepared to sink a lot of money into this, but Milton St John just doesn’t need it. We’re surrounded by golf courses, for heaven’s sake. Tell Peter that I won’t be changing sides, and the only reason I want to hear from him in the future is if he needs a quote from Shadows.’

‘I think you’re jealous.’ Stacey fluttered her false eyelashes. ‘You’re doing it out of spite because Peter preferred me to you. I don’t bear any grudges, Maddy, but you don’t seem to be able to accept that he left you for me. I told Peter that you couldn’t stand seeing us together. Especially now we’ve bought the Manor. After all, what have you got? A little cottage that you don’t even own, and no man. I don’t blame you for being just the teensiest bit jealous.’