Out on the patio, Grace checked her watch. Just as she was thinking about pouring herself a glass of wine, Lawrence called out to her. ‘You ready?’

‘I’ll grab my bag.’ She shut the French doors and turned the key. ‘Is everything locked up?’

‘Yes. I’ve checked. You look nice.’

She smiled. Lawrence had a habit of suddenly looking at her as if he hadn’t noticed her for a while, despite them sharing a house. A home. A life. ‘Thanks, darling.’ She’d been told often enough that she was pretty, with her naturally sun-streaked blonde hair, tanned skin and svelte figure. And when she was with Daisy, a tiny replica with bouncy blonde curls and a sunny nature, people often remarked that they should be the ones in the TV and magazine ads that Grace created.

Impulsively she gave Lawrence a hug, although he didn’t hug her back. She’d got used to him not being as affectionate as she was, but sometimes, especially lately, she felt he was pushing her away. She pressed herself against his solid body. How long had it been since they’d made love?

If she were honest, her relationship with her husband was wearing her down. Lawrence could be difficult – no, actually nasty. Spiteful. But then, was that the trade-off for having a darling daughter, a comfortable lifestyle, a nice home in a good area? Could she be happy with a husband who lavished gifts on her instead of affection and fun? The thought suddenly made her feel cheap and avaricious.

In the past, she’d always fallen for the sweet guys who had nothing. She liked to think that she was generous and thoughtful towards other people. But as she stepped back from the embrace and saw the emotionless look on her husband’s face she wondered, had she traded genuine unconditional love for security? Was it too late to do something about it?

Lawrence turned away. ‘I’ll get the champagne.’

As he slipped the bottle into the leather wine cooler, she noticed he’d changed his shirt, and was wearing the peachy-pink Lanvin she’d bought him. He patted his coat pocket. ‘Right, I’ve got the keys.’

‘It’s only a couple of blocks. Let’s walk, it’s such a nice evening. Do us good,’ she suggested.

‘Me, you mean.’ She had been gently nagging him to exercise. ‘I’d prefer to drive. My sprained ankle from tennis still hasn’t healed.’

‘Oh, too bad. You are such a killer on the court,’ she teased. ‘You really do play to win,’ she added, echoing something he’d once said to her.

‘I do, darling, and why not?’ he said lightly. ‘Okay, let’s go.’

Grace pulled the front door closed, leaving the light on outside. The air was fragrant with roses as she got into the passenger seat of Lawrence’s Mercedes. Her feet bumped against his briefcase, which sat in the footwell.

‘Why are we taking your car?’ They usually used Grace’s when they went out locally.

‘I left it out the front so I thought it was easiest. Is that okay?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow.