Dora smiled. ‘As a matter of fact, it started as a reunion of four friends who went to college together. And then we fell in love with this island and stayed on here for a while.’

‘It feels like ages! I know because I sacked Barbara Ryan the day you left. Dora, she was a nightmare! I’ve been trying to find you ever since, to ask you to come and handle my PR again!’

‘Wotcher, Pandora,’ the bearded photographer threw in. ‘No one can handle features editors like you!’

‘Thanks, Bill,’ Dora smiled, recognizing him from previous shoots. For a moment she thought about her old life, with its eternal negotiations and cliff-edge deadlines. But it seemed as remote as someone else’s pressure-cooker existence, and she realized she had absolutely no interest in picking up the reins.

‘I’m sorry, Venus.’ She caught Karl’s eye. ‘But I’m moving to Cambridge.’

‘Cambridge?’ repeated Venus, as staggered as if Dora had opted for the North Pole. ‘Whatever for?’

‘I’m retiring. I may pick up a bit of local work for museums and stuff.’

‘Are you sure you haven’t had a breakdown?’ Venus’s voice was suddenly syrupy with sympathy.

‘Not unless the symptoms are waking up happy and looking forward to what the day may hold,’ Dora said lightly.

‘Crying waste,’ commented Bill, the bearded photographer. ‘Come on, Venus love, better take these shots before the light goes. I may already have to add some filters as it is.’

Venus instantly went into full-on posing mode, lips out, stomach in, placing herself behind the statue and leaning over its white marble shoulder. She was employing her most effective weapon – her only effective weapon, Dora had often thought – looking into the lens as if she wanted to have sex with it.

‘Did you mean that?’ Karl asked, taking Dora’s hand, as everyone else watched tomorrow’s headline being created in front of them.

‘Nah,’ Dora grinned, ‘just said it to get rid of her.’ She saw the momentary flash of hurt in his eyes and put her arms round him. ‘Yes, I meant it. When she offered me my old job back, I realized it was the last thing on earth I wanted.’

‘Time to go home soon, I think?’ he asked, glowing with sudden happiness.

‘Yes, soon,’ she agreed. ‘But not quite yet.’ Out of the corner of her eye she had noticed an angry grey-suited man, sweating profusely, approaching Penny’s daughter Wendy.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he asked rudely. ‘Why aren’t you at home looking after your children?’

Wendy stiffened. ‘Because my husband is generous enough to look after them so I could have a holiday,’ she replied crisply. ‘Some men are, you know.’