Sarah pushed a piece of paper forward on the desk. ‘There are some notes here. The sorts of things you can ask. You’ll be wired for sound, of course, and we have the numbers of all the bank notes. Not that we should need them. Mr Tan will be intercepted as he leaves the hotel and we’ll then have all we need.’

‘OK. Well, I suppose I’d better do my swotting. Make sure that I sound as though I know what I’m doing, though I can’t see myself getting through Gray’s Anatomy in an evening.’ He paused, then asked, ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in asking you…’

‘Not tonight,’ said Sarah. ‘Maybe tomorrow. When we’ve got something to celebrate. If we’ve got something to celebrate.’

The time seemed to fly by. Christopher had been sitting at his desk for more than an hour. He had not done anything except think. He was not sure he was any further forward. The two dilemmas shimmied around in his head but he seemed unable to resolve either of them. He jolted himself into full consciousness and looked at his watch. One o’clock. Lunchtime. He would go downstairs and find Maria. He would not burden her with either problem, but at least her presence would improve his frame of mind. They had hardly spoken earlier in the morning. She had seemed preoccupied and he himself was hardly at his most communicative. He would make it up to her over lunch, however unwilling his mind would be to deal with other things.

The kitchen table was laid out with cheeses and fresh bread, jars of pickle and some freshly cut ham. Propped against the jar of mango chutney was a letter, addressed simply to ‘C’. He pushed his finger underneath the flap and opened the envelope, sliding out the folded piece of paper inside.

Dear Christopher,

I’m sorry not to see you before I go, but I just wanted to say thank you for your company over the past couple of weeks. It has been such fun being with you and I shall treasure my visit to the opera always. My mother will be back with you next week and I will explain that you prefer a light lunch to pasta. I do hope we can meet again sometime.

With love and thanks,

Maria.

P.S. I have made sure there is plenty in the fridge.

He sat down at the table and lay the letter gently in front of him. He had forgotten that Luisa would be back on Monday. And then the reality of the situation dawned on him. He had been so tied up with his own mental agonies, so bound up in his own little world that it never occurred to him that she must have seen Kate come into the house. And leave. What must she have thought?