Stephen turned his slow gaze to rest on her face. She felt really seen by him, which both unnerved and excited her. A sudden burst of laughter erupted from the other end of the table, startling her, for it seemed as if she and Stephen were the only people in the room. She asked about his interests – he was a member of the Alpine Club and a keen mountaineer, and had come to Courmayeur to climb. He had been out on the mountains at sunrise that day and spoke about how beautiful it was.

‘I was looking at two scenes: day and night. Above me, the slopes and peaks were bright in daylight, it looked like the peaks were on fire. Below, the valleys were still dark. I could only make out the dots of the town’s street lamps in the blackness.’

A shadow passed over his face, which he quickly dismissed with a marvellous smile.

‘I don’t suppose you are a climber?’

Ginie laughed and shook her head.

‘No, it’s not my thing at all, I’m afraid. In winter, though, I love to skate.’

When she was flying through the chill, crisp air, everything else fell away and she felt at peace.

She filled the pause that followed by asking about his family. He said they were in the textile business. He had resolved not to enter the family firm and chose to go into the brewing industry instead. Before the war he worked for the master brewer, Messrs Bass and Co. He returned briefly when the war ended, but soon resigned, needing a break after the fighting.

Now Ginie remembered where she’d heard the name Courtauld, she had read articles about them in the newspaper. They came from a family of Huguenots who had fled to London in the seventeenth century to escape religious persecution and became renowned silversmiths. They then moved into silk and made fortunes in England and America, largely from the profits of black silk mourning crepe. Their fortunes grew even bigger when they diversified into rayon, the new-fangled material used to make women’s underwear and stockings. As one journalist noted, the first family fortune had its basis in grief, the second in sex appeal. Perhaps Ginie’s luck was starting to turn.

Stephen had stopped talking. She felt him pull back, as if she had come too close because he had disclosed so much. The man on Ginie’s other side took the opportunity to introduce himself. She let him kiss her hand. While they talked, she wondered about Stephen. She had never met anyone like him. He refused to initiate conversation, yet she was sure he had much to say. Her interest was piqued; she was determined to get through to him somehow. And when Ginie wanted something, she got it.