"It was my fifteenth birthday party. I'd never been happier, the PSP had just fallen, Grandpa's illness hadn't developed, and me and all my friends were dressed up in such wonderful dresses. Kendric came with a present for me, perfume, all gift-wrapped. Uncle Kendric. He and Grandpa hadn't fallen out then, you see. He gave me the perfume, and said that was only half of the present. He told me his nieces and nephews were all going to go cruising on the Mirriam for a fortnight, a di Girolamo family outing, and would I like to come. I pleaded with Grandpa to let me go. Grandpa never can say no to me. And then when I went on board there was only Kendric, no relatives, no family cruise. He was waiting for me. My present. I was too young, too stupidly blind with romance to realise. He was so handsome, the older man, rich, and cultured, and charming. God was he charming. You can't know what a man like that is capable of doing to the mind of a silly fifteen-year-old. The whole thing was like a channel drama made by the best director in the world, alone together on a yacht, surrounded by sea, shorelines, and golden sunsets. I loved every second of it. Believed every word he said. He hadn't married Hermione then. I thought I was the one. I was going to marry him. I was going to have his babies for him. I didn't believe God could create a monster like Kendric. Not on this world, the Good Earth."

She finished with a limp twitch of her lips. Greg carefully brushed some tangled wisps of hair from her face.

"God," she choked. "You must think I'm bloody worthless."

"I think you're quite beautiful, actually."

Punished eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes," he said. "I never got in touch after you sent all that gear to the chalet, I didn't trust myself."

"With me?"

He gave a slight nod.

"Oh." She wiped the back of her hand across her face, spreading her tears around. Greg smiled, and pulled a paper hanky from the glove compartment.

They drew apart a little. But the spark of intimacy remained. It would always be there, he knew, carried to the grave.

He cleared his throat, resentful that some analytical part of his brain never switched off, not even through this. "Julia, did you tell Kendric about the giga-conductor?"