Down below in the kitchen he and Kimberly sit at a bar. His father once sat on one of these stools and said it was charming. He has a way of being extremely complimentary about things he dislikes. It is an Etonian habit, easily deciphered: ‘charming’ meant vulgar. Little Sam won’t be going there. Kim says what’s the point of having children if you send them away? He agrees although he thinks his reasons are more complicated: he doesn’t want his son to be for ever an Etonian, which he thinks is a curse. When the bank is sold they are going to divide their holidays between Martha’s Vineyard, where her family have a home, and Antibes. Kim’s family house is on the beach at Gay Head, not far from the Jackie Onassis estate and near where John F. Kennedy Jr. – John-John – crashed his Piper Saratoga into the sea. Here the children can spend their summers free of Olde England.

Kimberly is looking for a house. On the water, but nothing too grand. Even nothing-too-grand is five million.

It’s warm in the morning. That special kind of blessed spring warmth that gives you a presentiment of what’s around the corner. The white wisteria is about to flower – it’s taken six years. He walks through cherry blossom and hanging laburnum and on through their private gate directly into the gardens, and across the lawns to the court. His phone rings as he is almost exactly at the midpoint of the vast expanse of grass. It’s his brother, the voyager.

‘Hello, Simon. Where on earth are you?’

‘I’m in Maun. It’s up at the top end of Botswana.’

His voice sounds as though it is coming down a thin pipe, trickling uncertainly.

‘All well?’

‘Fine. We’re going to traverse the delta in mokoros, local dugouts before you ask.’

‘It sounds exciting.’

‘It may be a little too exciting. Lots of hippos and crocs. Anyway I rang because I wanted to tell you, and you alone, that I met someone in the bar of Riley’s Hotel last night. His brother, he says, is shagging our stepmother.’

For a moment, Julian is confused.

‘Where?’

‘In London. He’s an ex-rugby player, turned personal trainer, whatever that may be. How is our pater, by the way?’

‘Well, the good news is that he wouldn’t be aware of it, if it is true. The bad news is that he’s not getting any better. I saw him yesterday.’

‘Poor old sod. The chap’s name is Morné. The brother seems to think he’s after her money. He’s a game guide. The brother.’

‘How exactly did the conversation come up?’

‘I told him my name and he asked about the bank. I said why, and he said my brother is shagging the boss’s wife. For a moment I thought he meant Kim.’

‘Jesus, Simon.’