‘Hi,’ he said, his turquoise eyes gazing steadily at her as Dinah made her way slowly towards their table. He didn’t immediately follow. ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he added. ‘I …’ He stopped, gave her a warm, brief smile that might have carried an apology, Connie wasn’t sure, before turning away without another word.

She stood stock still. Her breath was shallow in her chest. She saw out of the corner of her eye the waitress setting her coffee on the white cloth. Luckily there were tables between hers and Dinah’s and she chose a seat with her back to them. The fruit salad was too cold, the chunks of unripe melon so big they almost choked her. The coffee was perfect, though, hot and strong, made from her favourite arabica beans. It would probably cause her to shake even more than she already was. But she badly needed a hit to get through the day.

The journey home passed in an anxious daze for Connie. The long hours to Paris, with all her passengers safely stowed, gave her too much time for reflection – especially as she wasn’t occupied with a book or music.

At St Pancras the following day, she found she couldn’t wait to be shot of them all. She often felt weary as she waved her passengers goodbye and shed the responsibilities of the week, but this time it was more a need to be free from the temptation of Jared’s gaze. They had barely talked since leaving the lake. Dinah had old friends in Paris, so she and Jared had been whisked away for dinner the previous night. And Connie’s seat had been in a separate carriage on both trains.

Now Dinah was approaching, enveloping her in a warm hug. She smelt the reassuring fragrance of Chanel, felt the softness of the powdered skin. ‘Connie, my dear. How sad. It’s been such a pleasure meeting you.’

‘You, too, Dinah. I’ll miss you both.’ Which was true, although not quite in the context implied.

Jared held out his arms. ‘The wonderful Connie,’ he said, and wrapped her close against him, lowering his head to drop an unseen kiss to the side of her mouth. She stiffened in his embrace, terrified that Dinah would think them too intimate, and he let her go.

‘Come on.’ He gave his godmother a friendly grin. ‘Let’s get you home.’

Connie breathed a deep sigh of relief as she watched the pair make their way slowly across the busy station concourse in the direction of the taxi rank. I will forget it ever happened, she told herself firmly.

7

‘Sandwich at the pub?’ Connie suggested brightly, two mornings after her return.

Devan glanced up from his phone. Every time she met his eyes, now, she was sure he would see a change in her. But his gaze was dull. ‘Umm, could do.’

Connie sighed. ‘Bit more enthusiasm would be nice.’