‘Why can’t you come up to London for the night? Surely they’d let you do that. You’re hardly likely to abscond – and anyway I don’t see why anyone need know,’ Nicola had said. Christopher could see that now that he was safely out of prison and she couldn’t be called on to face meeting in such distasteful surroundings, Nicola might have enjoyed the thrill of an illicit rendezvous. It would, for her, have added zest to a moribund relationship. ‘It’s not as if you’re tagged or anything,’ she went on impatiently. ‘I really do want to see you – of course I do – and there are lots of things we need to talk about, but I don’t see why I should have to come down to Nether Pacey to do it. You’ve no idea how frosty your mother was with me for not coming to visit you in the nick. I thought she might be pleased to be shot of me but she kept offering to drive me there and come with me “if it would make it easier” as if I wasn’t perfectly capable of getting there by myself if I’d wanted to! I tried to explain that I just can’t do that sort of thing – prisons, hospitals, visiting the sick – anything like that makes me feel ill – but she doesn’t get it at all. It’s okay for someone like her who actually enjoys ministering to people . . .’ She made it sound like a dirty word.