She had not this time confronted her mother; she had come here to the loft where she had lain for twenty-four hours, weighting the trapdoor with heavy books against intruders. Then, driven down by hunger, she had snatched a sandwich in Ann’s kitchen before setting off across the fields to the Peels’ house where she had asked Christopher’s mother to lend her money. Rose Peel had refused to lend, but had given her five hundred pounds, asked no questions, tendered no advice.

Laura smiled in recollection. She had respected the older woman. Claud longed to know why she smiled, dared not interrupt.

She had cashed the cheque, packed a small bag, and set off abroad, hitching lifts, working her way across Europe, washing dishes or working at au pair jobs until she found herself working for a potter in Provence who taught her her trade.

For several years she had remained in a state of bellicosity and resentment against Nicholas and Emily; it waned as she returned to England, visited her mother and was made as welcome as though she had only been absent for a week. Emily had been charming, Nicholas too; she began to wonder whether she had misjudged them. She even went through a phase of suspecting Ned Peel again. Perhaps Rose Peel had not been so remarkable? She would have been glad to give the money, she would not want her only son to marry his half-sister. She might even, when she gave her the cheque, have thought she needed it for an abortion. Rose would not have wanted that sort of grandchild. She had juggled many mad suppositions rather than face the truth.

Then with acceptance came resignation tinged with hilarity, a philosophy, a mode of survival. There could be no marriage, no great love, no children, but plenty of friendship, good sex and always short-term relationships. Since it was quite difficult to find lovers to fit these criteria, there had not been many. Clug had been the latest.

Then what am I doing? Laura sat up and drew away from Claud. What a crazy idea to seduce Claud and install him in my loft. I must be mad. Here is somebody who breaks all my rules; he could become a lasting responsibility. What a dangerous aberration from my norm.

‘I am sorry I nipped you,’ she said.

Claud had forgotten the nip: ‘Were you counting your lovers? You smiled.’

‘My list is pretty sparse.’ Laura got out of bed and began to dress, excluding Claud as she muffled her body. He would do better sticking to Amy, she thought, and chuckled.

‘What’s funny?’ Claud cried angrily.

‘I had a virtuous thought. Come on, get up, when I feel virtuous I feel hungry. Let’s go and eat a hearty breakfast.’ She hustled into her clothes, pulled on her boots. ‘I crave hot coffee and croissants.’

Sulkily Claud reached for his pants. ‘I crave you,’ he said.