‘Oh, yes,’ said Lil, ‘It’s the craftsman’s delight in lovely work.’

Ginie turned to Sam, ‘I’m familiar with Stephen’s taste, but I’d love to know more about yours. I’m wondering, what makes you decide to buy a painting?’

‘He loves the colours,’ Lil dropped in. ‘He collects like a missionary saves souls – with fervour and concentration.’

‘Lil’s right, in a way,’ Sam gave a self-deprecating shrug, ‘I often can’t really say why I buy a painting – it’s an instinctive thing. My gut reaction is always the deciding factor. If it doesn’t make me tingle, it’s no good.’

Sam sipped at his champagne and Stephen saw he was in a genial, relaxed mood. Sam was Chairman of Courtaulds, and he had the reputation of being an aggressive boss – pedantic and hard on his staff. Though you would never know it looking at him now, with his family and his beloved art collection.

‘I don’t always get it right, mind you,’ he went on.

‘Oh, no?’

‘Yes. My biggest mistake was buying a particularly crude Seurat forgery of a female nude.’

‘I guess she made you tingle,’ Ginie replied, prompting a laugh from everyone but Lil. Ginie was having no problem winning Sam over. It was never the men who were the problem, Stephen thought, ruefully. Though he could sense how curious the couple were about Ginie. While one was talking, the other gave sidelong glances. Beneath the polite surface of conversation, unspoken questions gathered.

They were stood in front of Gaugin’s Nevermore.

‘This one is a masterpiece,’ said Sam, ‘of course the price was absurd, but I expect it will seem small in twenty years’ time, should the art market continue to grow as it is growing now.’

Ginie said, ‘I love how Gaugin sailed off to Tahiti thinking he’d find an untouched paradise and people living simple, natural lives, without the corrupting ideas of modern society. And then, when he got there, he found it all far more developed than he’d thought, and full of tourists. But he decided to paint it as he’d imagined it anyway.’

‘Utopia is never what you think it’s going to be, isn’t that the point?’ said Lil, in a tone that closed the subject.

In the pause that followed, Stephen could feel the panic begin to creep back into his chest. He was in his trench, shivering, the smell of rats, wet straw and faeces in his nostrils. In the darkness, he could hear a young lad wailing and praying for death. Worse than the physical discomfort, worse even than the suffering he had witnessed, was the change in himself. He was hardened, ready and willing to carry out acts he had once condemned. If Ginie knew what he’d done in the name of King and country, she wouldn’t look at him with that soft light in her eyes ever again.