She whipped her head round to look at him. ‘You’ve seen her?’

‘This morning, on the ward.’ Once again his gaze strayed to the doors. ‘I hope nothing’s happened to her …’

Dulcie tapped him playfully on the arm. ‘Really, Robert, it’s hardly gallant of you to be thinking about another woman when you’re supposed to be with me!’ she reminded him.

‘Oh!’ Dr Logan turned red. ‘Yes, of course. I do apologise.’ He looked down at her empty glass. ‘May I offer you another drink?’

‘Thank you.’

She watched him making his way across the floor. He was so handsome, she thought. Her perfect man. She tried to think about them on their own wedding day, standing at the altar, making their vows to each other …

She closed her eyes to picture it, then opened them again.

Nothing.

She closed her eyes again, and concentrated hard. She could see herself in her dress, an elegant silk creation, her hair threaded with pearls, a bouquet of fragrant lily of the valley, her face delicately veiled.

She saw herself walking up the aisle on her father’s arm. She could see Robert in the distance, standing with his back to her, tall, dark and handsome in his smart suit. As she approached, he turned to look at her, and Dulcie felt her heart leap with—

Nothing.

She could see him there, watching her, his face suffused with love, eyes misty behind his spectacles. But her heart lay like a stone in her chest.

She screwed her eyes shut and tried to think about their lives after marriage. They were living in a big house, an Edwardian villa in Hampstead. They had a servant – no, two servants, a maid and a housekeeper. Dulcie spent her days on charity committees, or shopping in the West End. Sometimes she would deign to meet one of her old friends for tea at Fortnum & Mason, just so she could show off. And then, in the evening, Robert would come home, and she would greet him, and—

‘Dulcie?’

She opened her eyes, startled to see Robert Logan standing over her, a glass in each hand.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Did I wake you up?’

‘No. Not at all.’ Dulcie felt the heat rising in her face. ‘I was just …’

She stopped. What was she doing? It hardly felt like daydreaming. Daydreaming usually lifted her up, filled her with happiness and excitement. But this time it felt more as if she was watching someone else’s life than her own.

You can’t help who you fall in love with.

She snatched the drink out of Robert’s hand, annoyed with herself. This would not do, she decided. She had to try harder.

As he went to sit down beside her, he knocked her bag off her lap. It fell to the floor, spilling its contents.

‘Oh, I beg your pardon. Here, let me help you …’

‘It’s all right.’

‘Allow me.’

They both stooped to pick up her belongings at the same time. Dulcie moved quickly, but not quickly enough.