Eve leans into the candlelight, her face is flushed. ‘I’ve just had the most brilliant idea.’ She has a dimple Melissa hasn’t seen until now, a shadowy little pit on her right cheek. ‘Every August we stay in my father’s old house in the Peloponnese.’ Eve’s voice catches with excitement, ‘You could join us out there next month, all of you.’ She gazes round. Her eyes glitter; they look different somehow, larger perhaps. It may be the make-up, which Melissa has never seen her wear before tonight. ‘It’s a paradise for kids, hundreds of olive trees to get lost among,’ Eve continues. ‘Why not come too?’

There is a gasp. Melissa isn’t sure whose, was it her? She glances at Grace who scarcely takes a day off, according to Martin. They obviously have no money to spare for holidays or travel. Grace is looking at her husband, her face is expressionless; perhaps she thinks the invitation is just one of those spur-of-the-moment things, well meant but unreal.

‘That’s so kind of you,’ Melissa touches Eve’s hand. ‘But there must be heaps we can do in London without imposing—’

‘It wouldn’t be an imposition. We converted the outhouses over there specially for guests. We could all be as private as we wanted to be.’

‘Far too generous,’ Paul says. His words are a little slurred now. ‘We couldn’t possibly accept.’

‘Our children would love the company,’ Eve continues, as though she hasn’t heard him. She looks as eager as a child. ‘I could teach them in the mornings if you like. You can do whatever you want, read or sleep. There’s a pool that my father put in. It’s very peaceful; ideal for writing,’ she adds, with a smiling glance at Martin.

‘This is the kind of thing my wife does,’ Eric murmurs. ‘There will be no dissuading her. I think she feels guilty that we don’t make more use of it.’

‘Guilt has nothing to do with it.’ The pink deepens. ‘You’re always telling me to do what my heart tells me to; well, that’s exactly what I’m doing now.’ She looks round, nodding seriously. ‘I really want you all to come.’