He had even watched his parents wobble once. Laura, fed up with the narrow confines of pool, Officers’ Club, Mess, wives’ club and NAAFI had decided to take a degree, as many wives with half a brain were driven to. She had had the eager and willing help one summer of a young American professor from Harvard who was passing through, but not quickly enough, it seemed to his father.

Peter, wisely, had merely exaggerated his air of never knowing who was where or why in order to create a gap for Laura. His mother, foiled of drama, had returned, faithful, Sam believed, to the fold and to his father’s bed.

He smiled to himself. That had been the summer some naval officer had got Fleur absolutely blotto and she had leapt over the side of a naval frigate causing a terrible fuss.

He remembered his sister turning from a gawky teenager into an absolute stunner. God, how determined she had been to throw away everything to marry David. He remembered his surprise when David had told him he was going to marry Fleur. Fleur had had a bit of a crush, but David always seemed to treat Fleur as a little sister. He had women flocking and a bit of a reputation for pulling.

God! How awful if David had given in for convenience, because it was easy. He got to know us all so well. He, Dad and I just hit it off from the very beginning. But he was very fond of Fleury, who wouldn’t be? He must have loved her, but enough? I’m not so bloody sure of that.

Fleur had been fighting the toaster in the accommodation at Brize Norton. There was a large table where you helped yourself. Her toast was burning and wouldn’t pop up. It seemed to her the eyes of a million men were watching her struggle with amusement when a hand reached over and whacked the toaster hard, and burnt toast flew out onto the spotless white tablecloth.

‘Mrs Montrose, I presume. Trying to burn the building down in a random act of terrorism?’

Fleur whipped round to see Fergus’s laughing face.

‘Oh, God! Thank you! Why are all those men staring? Is it such a heinous crime to burn toast here?’

Fergus grinned. ‘Bastards! All of them! They would have come to your rescue eventually, I think. They are staring because you are very pretty and have tight denim jeans on and most officers, wives don’t travel in jeans.’

Fleur grinned back. ‘For twenty-four hours I am pretending I am not an officer’s wife and can wear exactly what I like.’

‘Good for you! Ignore the pursed lips of the general’s wife as you board!’

‘What general’s wife?’ Fleur squeaked. ‘You’re joking?’

‘Yes!’

They made more toast and sat down together, watched by the watchers. ‘You realise this is a scandal in the making before we’ve even boarded?’

‘What, having breakfast together!’ They stared at each other and giggled.