‘You don’t understand. I don’t blame you – I haven’t explained anything yet. So you won’t even meet me somewhere for lunch, then?’ He sounded profoundly reproachful. The way men so often sounded when they wanted something from you that you knew was dangerous, and they pretended was entirely harmless. 157The little-boy wheedling that was far more successful than it ever ought to be, because it left you feeling stiff and mean-spirited and needlessly cautious.

‘I would if I thought I could be of any help to you,’ she said. ‘But there must be countless people who’d do a better job than me.’

‘I think I might be the best judge of that. Look, I just want to talk something over with you, that’s all. I want to see if you can help me to understand myself a bit better, if that doesn’t sound pretentious. No strings. Nothing sinister.’

She knew, then, that everything he was asking her was a smokescreen, a pretence in order to get beneath her defences. He knew that she knew, as well. They both knew that there had been a violent physical spark between them the moment they set eyes on each other. Two highly attractive people in their forties, she in a new and loving marriage, he a single man of indeterminate background – by some malign hormonal chemistry they could scarcely keep their hands off each other. But nothing had happened and Thea clung to a desperate hope that nothing ever would or could.

All this knowledge was providing only the flimsiest of barriers against him. Just the mental repetition of his name had been enough to make her warm. Now she was actually speaking to him, hearing his voice inviting her to meet him again, she was unequal to the test before her. There was almost no rational thought involved. She was nowhere close to having to justify herself. She was a rabbit staring into the hypnotic eyes of the fox, somehow 158accepting that her eventual fate was going to be worth the extreme gratification that was being promised.

‘Tomorrow, then,’ she said. ‘I hear there’s a good pub in Quenington. Can we meet there, say half past twelve?’

‘If that’s the best I can hope for, then fine. What’s the name of the pub?’

‘I can’t remember. It’s the only one in the village, I think. Should be easy to find.’

‘Please don’t worry, Thea. I’m not going to harm you. You sound so scared, and that’s hurtful. I’m not a monster. I just want to talk to you. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ she murmured, wondering whether all the shameful expectations lay entirely within her, while knowing that absolutely was not the case. Perhaps, an insistent voice repeated, after all, he was much less concupiscent than she thought. Concupiscent, she mentally repeated, enjoying a word she had used a lot in her teens. It had been a favourite amongst the sixth-form girls for a while.

At least he hadn’t threatened to invade the house that evening. He knew she was alone; he knew how to find her. Didn’t it prove his decency that he had agreed to hold off until the arrival of the purifying light of day in a public place? Bit by bit she relaxed and savoured the glow of anticipation. It would be pleasurable just to see him again. He could harmlessly feed her fantasies, while leaving her conscience clear. And on top of that, he might actually have some intriguing puzzle to run past her, which would give her something new to think about.