Connie gave a tired snort. ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘I just need to get away from here, Neil. I don’t have a car, so I thought I’d be better somewhere I don’t need one.’

‘So, who’s the friend?’ he repeated stubbornly.

‘Tessa. Not sure you know her. We were at school together. She lives in Hampstead.’ The name sprang to Connie’s lips almost involuntarily under the pressure of Neil’s questioning. She’d barely spoken to her friend in the last ten years, beyond a sporadic exchange of emails. But Tessa’s husband, Martin, had died in March and she’d gone to his funeral. Tessa had been in touch since, begged Connie to come and stay, saying how much she hated the empty house. For all Connie knew, of course, she was currently visiting her daughter in Hawaii, or had a houseful of other strays.

She heard Neil sigh. ‘OK. But I’m worried about you.’

‘I’ve just got to sort this out.’

‘How will you do that from North London?’

‘Neil, please, can we talk about this another time? I really need a lift. I’ll get a taxi if you can’t do it. I know your mum’s staying.’

‘There in fifteen,’ he said.

She let out a sigh of relief. Terry, the village taxi driver, inhaled gossip as others did air, then blew it out again as soon as he had a captive audience. Word would get round soon enough, but she wasn’t going to help it along.

Connie hauled her case downstairs. Glancing into the sitting room, she saw Devan on the sofa. He looked as if he’d just keeled over sideways where he sat, his head resting uncomfortably half on, half off a cushion, his feet still on the floor. In sleep, his face was sunken, his skin grey. He looked as if he’d aged years since she’d last seen him, his mouth twitching as if he were having bad dreams. She gave a quiet gasp, her heart leaping in her chest, so full of love did she feel for the man who had been at the centre of her life since she was in her early twenties.

She tiptoed over to the sofa and laid her hand on his head, stroking his dark hair, tears spilling from her eyes. She wanted to gather him in her arms, to rock him till his pain was gone. But she was the cause of that pain.

Devan’s eyes sprang open. At first his glance was unfocused. Then he must have remembered. ‘Don’t,’ he said, cuffing her hand away as he shot upright, his stare thick with confusion.

Connie moved back, shocked at his unqualified rejection, although she knew she had no right to be. What did I expect?

‘Neil’s taking me to the station,’ she said.