‘I wish I hadn’t done it. I’m really sorry now. It was a selfish thing because I thought Philip might beat me, and I hate losing. And I thought I deserved a third term. You work so hard in the job, but people don’t see that. Don’t care.’ Pearly was aware that he had begun to whine in search of exculpation and understanding. ‘No excuse, though,’ he said more firmly, ‘and I know the damage is done.’

‘So why tell me now?’ said Deidre. ‘How does that help either of us?’ She was making no denial of the love affair or his witness of it, and that at least was some relief to Pearly.

‘I know it’s done,’ said Pearly. ‘Over, but I regret it now, and I wanted to own up about it. It isn’t any business of mine what you or Philip do in your private lives.’

‘Do you want me to tell you that it doesn’t matter? Because I’m not going to do that.’

‘Of course not.’

‘I never thought of you,’ she said after a pause, and with each index finger she made a simultaneous trace over her eyebrows, left finger to left brow, right finger to the right, as if she were regarding herself in a mirror. ‘I wondered about a lot of spiteful people who could’ve done it, but I never thought of you even though obviously it was to your benefit. That’s pretty odd, isn’t it?’

Pearly didn’t have a reply, and they were silent for a time, sitting in the dark leather chairs, each with a heap of white net curtains close on the floor and the sun bright on the green leaves and yellow fruit of the lemon tree. ‘Well, I have to go now,’ she said finally. ‘I have to go and meet Philip.’

‘Of course,’ and Pearly stood up.

‘Maybe it would’ve been better if you hadn’t said anything,’ she said. ‘Every time we meet now, that’ll be our first thought. Everything we talk about will have this behind it.’ She paused and then said, ‘Does Helen know?’

‘No, only you. Unless you told Philip about it?’

‘No, but it made things very difficult for me There was a price to pay.’

‘I guess so. I’m sorry.’ They had reached the door and an awkward leave-taking. ‘I just wanted to come and say I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.’

Deidre looked directly at him, and Pearly tried to meet her scrutiny, which seemed both enquiry and challenge. ‘If you mean it,’ she said, ‘if you really mean it, then there’s something I’d like you to do.’

‘What is it?’ said Pearly.

‘I want you to tell Helen. I want you to tell your wife about it. I’ll probably never know whether you do it or not, but that’s what I want if you’re really sorry.’