‘How could he? He got a promise out of Lorna that she wouldn’t name Giles as the father of her baby, but he had to give a similar promise of silence to her. Your father’s whole object was to stop you being hurt. Before the child arrived I don’t think your parents were convinced it really was Giles’s baby either, and they didn’t think Lorna was that sure herself – it could have been spite or wishful thinking. But I gather that from the moment they first saw the child there was no doubt in their minds – or Lorna’s either.’ Evelyn shook her head sadly. ‘Your parents hoped that once she had a baby of her own – something she’d apparently always been desperate for – Lorna would become an easier, happier person.’ She sighed. ‘It’s a tragedy it didn’t happen that way. As you know, your mother went out to South Africa for the birth, but from the day he was born Lorna couldn’t cope with the baby at all – could hardly bear to look at him, let alone touch him. It does happen occasionally, of course, but whether it was aggravated by the fact that he was premature and spent the first week in an incubator, whether it was triggered by post-natal depression, or whether it’s just how Lorna is, we’ll never know. The point is she obviously didn’t bond with the baby and in the early days your mother was at her wits’ end. I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but I’m not sure Lorna’s capable of real love. Even when she was little, I always felt there was something . . . missing.’

There was silence in the room except for the wheezing of the dog and the hissing of the fire. Then Evelyn said briskly: ‘So what do you hope will happen now? Do you want to see the child again? What does Giles feel?’ She thought Isobel looked anguished.

‘The thing is, it’s hard for Giles because he’s afraid of hurting me if he shows his affection too much – afraid of underlining the contrast between Edward and Rory.’ Isobel twisted her wedding ring round and round. ‘When he first arrived I could hardly bear his likeness to Giles – his physical perfection, so unlike Ed. It was torture, but I told myself I must do my best for him for the sake of my mother, who’d more or less brought him up until she was too ill to cope. She always tried – not very successfully – to avoid talking about him in front of me.’ Isobel pulled a face. ‘Poor Mum. She was never much good at hiding her feelings.’

‘That was always part of her charm and warmth,’ said Evelyn. ‘And you’re right. She adored that child – and your father did too. But where does all this leave you?’