“So that was the end of the conversation?” I say disbelievingly.

“Yes.”

“So you don’t know how things stand?”

“Not really.” She sinks onto a barstool next to me and I gaze at her, feeling slightly dumbstruck. This is all wrong. The whole point of ringing your husband for a full and frank confession is that you talk everything through, and by the end you’re either going to split up or you’ve made up.

I mean, isn’t it?

The trouble with Tarkie is, he doesn’t watch TV, so he has no idea how these things go.

“Suze, you need to buy some box sets,” I say fervently. “Tarkie has no point of reference.”

“I know. He didn’t say anything like I thought he would.”

“Did he say he needed some space?”

“No.”

“Did he say, How can I trust anything you say now?”

“No.”

“Well, what did he say?”

“He said he could understand me being tempted by Bryce and he’d fallen under Bryce’s spell too…”

“Very true.” I nod.

“…but we were Cleath-Stuarts, and Cleath-Stuarts don’t compromise; it’s all or nothing.”

“All or nothing?” I pull a face. “What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know!” wails Suze. “He wasn’t clear. And then he started talking about this famous tree we have on the Letherby estate, Owl’s Tower.” The freaked-out look returns to her eyes. “You know how all our biggest trees have names?”

I do know. In Suze’s spare room, there’s a booklet about the trees, and I have tried to read it, except I fall asleep every time I reach Lord Henry Cleath-Stuart bringing back seeds from India in 1873.

“Talking about a tree is good!” I exclaim encouragingly. “It’s a very good sign. It says, I want our marriage to last. Suze, if he’s talking about trees, I think you’re OK.”

“You don’t understand!” wails Suze again. “I don’t know which tree Owl’s Tower is! We’ve got millions of trees called Owl’s Something. And there was one really famous one which was struck by lightning and died. He might be talking about that one.”

“Oh God.” I stare at her, my confidence slightly dented. “Really?”

“Maybe Tarkie’s saying that Bryce is the lightning bolt and now our marriage is a charred stump with smoke rising from it.” Suze’s voice quivers.

“But maybe he’s not,” I counter. “Maybe Owl’s Tower is some really healthy oak which is still standing after lots of trials and tribulations. Didn’t you ask him which tree it was?”

Suze looks more agonized than ever.

“I couldn’t admit I didn’t know,” she says in a small voice. “Tarkie always says I should take more interest in the trees on the estate. So last year I told him I’d been round with the head groundsman and it was all really interesting.”

“Had you?”

“No,” she whispers, and buries her head in her hands. “I went riding instead.”

“Let me get this straight.” I put my tambourine down on the bar, because you can’t think properly with a tambourine in your hand. “Tarkie thought he was giving you a coded message that you would understand due to your shared love of the family trees.”