His remark made Megan feel guilty about her own sharp words. Clearly he had a heavy burden on his shoulders. Though why Cynthia couldn’t visit her own husband was more than she would ever understand. If Ben had been in hospital she’d have been camped outside his room.

But then, she was stupid like that.

In a sudden fit of annoyance at the whole situation, including herself, she picked up a fat, self-satisfied cushion from the fat, self-satisfied sofa and hurled it at the door.

That made her feel slightly better. But only slightly.

She felt left out. Uncertain. Marking time.

When she visited the hospital later, she thought Nick looked grey and tired.

‘I’m turning into an old crock,’ he said apologetically.

No need to take out her ill humour on him. ‘Oh, we all have our bad patches. You’ll get better gradually.’

‘I’ve spoiled your honeymoon, too.’

‘No, you haven’t.’ She launched into a sprightly description of their days in Singapore, then went on to describe the block and the tiny wooden house. That soon had him laughing.

‘I’m glad Ben married you,’ he said unexpectedly. ‘You’ll be good for him.’

‘Oh. Well, thank you.’ She could feel herself blushing. ‘I hope so.’

‘Tell Cynth not to bother visiting me tonight,’ he called as she left. ‘She’ll be tired after the day’s meetings.’

From which Megan deduced that Cynthia was spending the day with Ben again. Why had he not told her that himself?

She went off to buy a mobile phone, choosing a case for it out covered in glittery beads.

Two long days followed, during which Megan explored the town and purchased some things for the house. She tried not to worry about exactly what Cynthia and Ben were doing, but couldn’t help wondering. And she had to endure the other woman’s company over dinner each evening until quite a late hour.

She had decided to stay up with them, however long it took. She wasn’t giving Cynthia free access to Ben. They had to escort the stupid woman to her room, because each evening their glamorous companion drank a great deal, and although she held her liquor well, she did start flirting with any and every man when she’d sunk a few of her favourite dry martinis.

On the afternoon of their third day back in Perth, Ben came back to their hotel room looking triumphant. ‘It’s done! Signed, sealed and delivered. And I did rather well for Nick, if I say so myself.’

He grabbed Megan and waltzed her round the room. ‘That, my fine lady, is the last of these business deals. My herculean toils are done. My life is now my own.’

She brightened up. ‘Does that mean we can go home?’

‘Home? Do you really think of that little shack as home?’

She nodded.

He smiled at her. ‘You’re an incredible woman.’