He didn’t look at her, let alone kiss her or touch her. She had clearly driven him away.

But then she realised he wasn’t looking at Cynthia, either. Indeed, the two of them were looking everywhere but at each other. A tiny seed of curiosity and hope began to draw Megan out of her misery.

In fact, they looked like people who had been quarrelling. Had he not enjoyed his day out, then? Oh, she hoped not!

Cynthia went to leave her handbag in the bedroom and came back smelling strongly of perfume to drape herself along the other couch. ‘Any chance of a cup of coffee, Megan?’

‘You’re more than welcome to make some!’ She sneezed several times in rapid succession. Her eyes were watering and she was sure her nose was red. He’d think she looked like a clown. Well, she probably did.

Ben came across the room and stared down at her. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Just a bit cold. I went out for a walk and got soaked.’ Another shiver ran through her. ‘I haven’t been able to get warm since. I tried to light that stupid stove, but the wood’s all wet and we didn’t have any more newspapers.’

She couldn’t prevent her voice from shaking and tears welling in her eyes. If Cynthia hadn’t been there, she’d have flung herself into Ben’s arms and howled all over his chest, just for the pleasure of being held and comforted. As it was, she could only sniff and try to blink the tears away.

He patted her arm. ‘I’ve got a couple of newspapers in the car. You stay there and I’ll soon have a fire started, wet wood or not.’

Megan leaned her head back, closing her eyes to blot out the vision of blond elegance opposite her. Cynthia made no attempt to get any coffee. When Ben returned, a gust of cold damp air blew in.

‘You’ll have to empty the bucket!’ he said sharply.

Megan opened her eyes, unable to believe that he was speaking so harshly after telling her to rest.

‘Not you, Megan. Cynthia.’

Their guest sat bolt upright. ‘Me? Empty that rusty old thing!’

‘It’s not all that heavy,’ he said briskly. ‘Shove the plastic bucket underneath the drip and empty that one. I’m busy with the fire and poor Megan is chilled through.’

When Cynthia didn’t move, he added more sharply, ‘The bucket’s nearly overflowing. Go and chuck the water off the edge of the back veranda, then make us all a cup of coffee.’

He went into the bedroom, returning with a blanket, which he draped over his wife. ‘You’re to stay there until you’re warm again, and no arguing!’