Laura tried hard to fight off all the unpleasant feelings the woman had aroused in her on the way back to Dermot’s. She had made her feel like a tart, frankly, and she didn’t know if she would ever stop feeling like one. Almost the worst part was she felt that the whole shop knew she had slept with Dermot, and thought she was a tart too. She didn’t like the feeling. And what had the woman meant about them being old friends? It was as if she’d been warning her off. And all that about his usual breakfast. She felt cheapened and hurt and used; an over-riding desire to get away from this place as quickly as possible overcame her. But when she had checked the availability of the local taxi service and the man had said he’d take her to the airport the moment she gave him the call, it didn’t really make her feel any better. He obviously thought Dermot would want rid of her as soon as possible. Her wonderfully happy mood had completely evaporated. Doubts about Dermot’s motives were marching in by the double, feeding her growing sense of unease. Had he swept her off her feet because she’d been there, ready and willing? He and his ‘old friend’ would probably laugh about it all when she was gone.

Right now, though, she had to get through the next hour or so without letting Dermot know how she really felt. She’d be calm and collected, and polite. She certainly didn’t want him to see how humiliated she felt.

She put on a smile as she entered his house, and called up the stairs, ‘I’m back! Do you want to cook this kedgeree or shall I read the packet and get on with it?’

Dermot appeared a few minutes later, after she’d decided to get cracking with it. She felt horrible. She was a one-night stand and she’d be lucky if she got away without Dermot pressing money on her for her cab fare.

She was stirring the rice mixture into melted butter. ‘There was a woman at the shop who said to tell you she was back,’ she said as nonchalantly as she could manage, not wanting to look at him until she felt calmer.

‘Oh? And who was that, then?’

‘She wouldn’t give her name. She just said you’d know who she was and that you were very old friends.’

Dermot laughed. ‘Oh, that’ll be Bridget! She’s a case, isn’t she? I’ve missed her. She’s been away for months. I expect she’ll be round here soon, wanting to see me.’

Laura couldn’t bear it. He was confirming her worst fears. And he wasn’t even trying to deny it.