Maddy sighed. There were at least a dozen similar outfits discarded across chairs. They were all Caroline. Neat, elegant, and wildly expensive.

‘It’s lovely. They all are. Is it for a special occasion?’

‘Entertaining clients, mostly. And I just love buying clothes.’ Caroline looked at Maddy in the black trouser suit. ‘You haven’t tried anything at all yet and it’s nearly lunch time. Go on, there must be something that you like.’

There had been plenty. Even in Oxford Street they had been beyond her dreams, and now Caroline had started an assault on Knightsbridge, the prices were almost obscene.

‘I’ll have this one, then,’ Caroline beamed at the assistant, whose working clothes must have cost more than Maddy’s entire wardrobe. ‘And the turquoise – oh, and the little lilac suit. I’ll think about the green and cream over lunch …’ And she dived happily back into the fitting room. ‘You ought to be thinking about The Derby, Maddy,’ she called from behind the curtain. ‘Surely you’ll get a special outfit for that?’

‘Maybe.’ It depended what Oxfam had to offer. ‘I don’t usually dress up that much, even for Epsom.’

‘Oh, but you must.’ Caroline whisked the curtain aside and stood smiling unselfconsciously in her underwear. ‘Go on, spoil yourself.’

Maddy felt sick. Caroline was wearing a black lace teddy with dark stockings and suspenders. Her figure was exquisite, with creamy breasts accentuating a slender waist, a flat stomach, and firm, unmarked thighs.

That was what Drew had seen this morning as Caroline had dressed. What he’d seen last night when they went to bed at Peapods. What he slept with those nights in Jersey. Drew’s wife had a perfect body.

‘I’ll go and have a look.’ Maddy turned her back on the fitting-room. Tears were burning her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? How could Drew, used to that sort of perfection, ever find her curves attractive? Caroline must be at least ten years her senior, yet her body was as trim and toned as that of a teenager.

Maddy tugged a green dress from the rails and held it against her.

‘Lovely with your hair and your colouring,’ the assistant nodded. ‘And very flattering. Why don’t you try it on?’

‘I – oh, no, I couldn’t...’

‘While your friend is getting dressed.’ The persuasion was inches thick. ‘I’m sure you’ll be surprised how well it suits you.’

Frowning, Maddy carried the frock into the cubicle. She peeled off the trouser suit. The lights, designed to flatter, could do very little with her cotton bra and supermarket knickers. With a sigh, she slid into the dress.