‘You were great,’ she says. ‘We saw the movie last year, when we were still living in Portugal, and I’ll never forget you making love to that young guy. It should have been sexy, and it was, but it was more than that. The man knew he was to be arrested and shot. There was no way out. What you did for him made Andy cry and that – believe me – doesn’t happen very often.’

‘I was younger, then,’ I say defensively. ‘And with the right lighting, the camera can be kind.’

‘That’s not the point. I’m a woman. You got it right. You were parfaite.’

I’m staring at her. There’s something so honest in the simplicity of what she’s just said. After a couple of years of multiple disasters, it’s good to know that something of mine touched a nerve or two.

‘Portugal?’ I need a change of subject.

‘That’s right.’

‘You were living there?’

‘We were. We had a couple of acres in the Alentejo. You’ve been there?’

‘Never.’

‘You should. There are forests of cork oaks. There are wild flowers everywhere. It maybe isn’t as pretty as I’m trying to make it sound, but it’s real, and it’s cheap, and if you’d been where we’d been it feels like heaven on earth.’

I hold her gaze. I want to know more. A tiny gesture of the hand, a lifted eyebrow, is all a conversation like this needs. I want to know where she was living before settling in Portugal. For once, she doesn’t change the subject.

‘Angola,’ she says.

‘You mean Africa?’

‘Yes. We were there in the nineties, during the civil war. In fact, that’s where we met. We were in a little town called Luena, and it was full of limbless kids. I was working for MSF. Andy was with another outfit. Sometimes I think we fell in love to stay sane.’

I nod. Médecins Sans Frontières has become a byword for the best of Western intentions in the chaos of the developing world. My mum, in an unfortunate phrase, always says she loves it to death.

‘You were a nurse?’

‘Yes.’

‘And Andy?’

‘He was working in the minefields. There were mines everywhere. He’d learned his trade in the army. Afterwards, he joined one of the mine-lifting charities. Terra Sancta it was called. They were brave men. A little crazy sometimes, but brave.’

‘And after Angola?’

‘That was different. Andy did a couple of extra tours with Terra Sancta in the Balkans, Bosnia mainly, but in the end, he packed it in. Portugal was a whole new life. Kids with the normal ration of limbs?’ She shakes her head. ‘Hard to believe.’

‘I’m guessing you liked it out there.’

‘In Portugal?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re guessing right.’

‘So why here?’ I gesture round. ‘Why Budleigh?’