He hears the door open below him and Cara shout, ‘Hi, I’m back,’ and he finishes his call, waiting for her to come upstairs. She is using one of the bedrooms on the ground floor. The house, which is on three levels, has the sitting-room on the top floor to take advantage of the views across the estuary; the kitchen and master bedroom are on the first floor, and there are two bedrooms, a bathroom and a utility room on the ground floor. The stairs rise up directly into the big kitchen and Max waits for Cara to appear.

‘Did you have coffee?’ he asks. ‘Did you remember the bread?’

‘Yes to both of those,’ she answers as she climbs the stairs. ‘It’s good to be in Salcombe again, Max. Thanks for letting me stay.’

It’s the first time they’ve spent any decent length of time together since Philip died and now, suddenly, Max feels slightly ill at ease. He hadn’t realized how almost any remark can be freighted with either insensitivity or mawkishness.

‘It’s great to have you here,’ he tells her. ‘Gives you a breathing space to decide where you might want to live. Obviously you didn’t want to stay in London and I don’t really blame you.’

Cara puts the bag with the bread in it on the table and stoops to pat Oscar, who lifts his head briefly whilst his tail beats a little tattoo of welcome on the floor. She wanders across to the doorway that leads out on to the balcony and leans against the door jamb. It occurs to Max that Cara never goes right out on to the balcony and he watches her curiously. She seems preoccupied; jumpy.

‘No,’ she answers him, after a moment. ‘The house was an investment and it was very useful when we did that home tour. And when Philip retired. He was so passionate about the theatre and the opera, and he loved London, but somehow it never felt like home to me. Perhaps at heart I’m a country girl, though I’m not quite sure where I really want to be. It was crazy to sell so quickly but it was too good an opportunity to miss.’

She still looks rather distant, as if she is untethered from the world about her, and he hastens to bring her back to some kind of reality.

‘You could afford to rent for a while,’ he suggests, ‘while you think about it. No need to dash into anything. You could get a winter let round here somewhere.’

She turns to look at him then, her eyes alight with amusement.

‘Judith would love that,’ she says.

‘Stop it,’ he says at once. ‘She’d be fine with it.’