‘But you don’t even know how much your bonus will be.’

He slammed his hand down on the bedside table and she flinched. ‘Will you please stop making such a bloody fuss! I’ll write the woman another cheque as soon as we get home, and that will be that. I don’t want to hear another word about it.’

He picked up his book and began to read, but the embarrassment of the last few minutes was still raw in Rachel’s memory and she refused to let it drop. ‘You promised me this would never happen again,’ she said evenly. ‘Not after the last time. Why are we here, Gerry? Because it sure as hell isn’t to celebrate a happy anniversary.’ 113

There was no answer, and she recognised the hostile, brooding silence that invariably warned of trouble. This time, though, something in her wanted to test him: perhaps it was a weary fatalism with life or the familiar desolation of Christmas, perhaps simply the comfort of strangers, in whose presence surely even Gerry would have to control himself, but she longed suddenly for change, and it scarcely mattered whether it was for better or worse. ‘I’m going to dress for dinner.’ She got up, and felt his eyes on her as she walked over to the wardrobe.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked. ‘I’ve chosen your clothes for tonight. They’re on the chair.’

Rachel looked at the selection he had made on her behalf, a yellow crêpe-de-chine evening dress that he had bought for her several seasons ago. The frills of white silk and a black velvet ribbon bow at the front were ugly and outdated, and she hated the way that the colour always made her look washed out and ill; she had lost weight in the intervening years, and the dress now sat shapelessly on her, ageing her before her time. ‘That’s kind of you, darling,’ she said, unable to resist a sarcastic emphasis on the endearment, ‘but I fancy a change tonight. I’ve brought something special.’

She found the black silk-crêpe dinner dress that the housemaid had hung so carefully in the wardrobe when she unpacked their cases and took it out with a flourish, enjoying the look of astonishment on her husband’s face as she held it up and studied herself in the full-length mirror. He was off the bed and across the room in a single movement. She felt his hands on her shoulders, saw his fury reflected in the looking glass, but for once she stood her ground, refusing to let go of the dress. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’ he demanded. 114

‘I bought it.’

‘You’ve been out shopping?’

‘Of course not, darling. I know how angry it makes you if I go out on my own, so I ordered it from a catalogue. What do you think? It wasn’t too expensive.’

She met his eye, waiting for the explosion. ‘Rachel, you can’t possibly wear that thing,’ he said, looking at the fitted bodice. ‘It’s strapless, and …’