He hesitated. ‘I didn’t think you would want to come.’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ He looked uncomfortable. It was strange – he was definitely hiding something. ‘Go on, tell me.’

He cleared his throat. ‘It’s going to be at the Brookfield Hotel.’ I closed my eyes and felt the pounding that I had felt the last time – the only other time – I had been in the ballroom of that hotel with Nick and Charles and Ian Fellowman. ‘I –’

‘No, it’s fine. More bread, anyone?’ I forced it away.

There was a pause, which Charles broke, nervously. ‘I’ll have some, thank you,’ he said, reaching for the plate. ‘It’s very good. Fresh.’

‘Deliciously so,’ added Bella.

She began talking about a new bakery near her and people joined in, the topic of food always one to raise interest. And after a while, the atmosphere lightened again. Even Charles made people laugh with a story about being caught scrumping a crateful of pears when he was at school and being made to eat them all as punishment. He was apparently ill for days.

When I began to clear the table, he offered to help. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘It was very nice, Mrs Cawson,’ he said, as we entered the kitchen. ‘It can’t be easy making something like that from whatever’s available today.’

‘Oh, you find ways to get the ingredients.’ I passed him a stack of plates and his hands wobbled a little. ‘Can you take these through?’ He was a lot more pleasant when he was squiffy, I decided. I would have to try to keep him like that. Dilute his morning tea with scotch? Make his coffees Irish to match his name? Some way to keep him mildly inebriated.

‘My pleasure.’ He went back into the dining room and I followed him carrying a china mug of water. Through the bannister I caught sight of Hazel watching us with a look of curiosity on her face.

We talked about the prospects for change at the top of the Party, should Blunt ever decide to retire – there were few other Secretaries with his stature and bearing, which meant it was hard to predict what would happen. ‘But who could replace Comrade Blunt?’ Nick said. ‘I can’t see …’

I lifted my drink but as I did so something struck me like a shard of light. Lorelei’s last words, Who’s there? I can’t see. They echoed in my mind.