‘Enough of that. I’ll head straight out to the airport tomorrow as soon as the brief arrives and get a flight to Edinburgh. I can pick up a hire car there. I’ll call you when I have a better idea of my ETA.’

‘OK. You’re … you’re welcome to stay at my place,’ he said. Over the phone, it was hard to sift diffidence from reluctance.

Much as she wanted to see where two years apart would have brought them, Carol knew it made sense to leave herself a back door. ‘Thanks, but I’m putting you to enough trouble. Book me in at a local hotel, or a bed and breakfast place. Whatever’s most convenient.’

There was a short pause. Then he said, ‘I’ve heard good reports of a couple of places. I’ll sort it out in the morning. But if you change your mind …’

‘I’ll let you know.’ It was an empty promise; the impetus would have to come from him.

‘I’m really looking forward to seeing you, Carol.’

‘Me too. It’s been too long.’

She heard a soft chuckle. ‘Probably not. It’s probably been just about right. Till tomorrow, then.’

‘Good night, Tony. And thanks.’

‘Least I can do. Bye, Carol.’

She heard the click of the line going dead and cut off her own handset, letting it fall to the rug. Scooping Nelson up in her arms, she walked across to the wall of windows that looked out across the old stone church, incongruously preserved in the heart of the modern concrete complex that had become home. Only this morning, she’d looked across the piazza with a sense of elegiac farewell, imagining herself packing up and moving to Den Haag to take up her post as a brand-new ELO. It had all seemed very clear, a visualization that held the power to bring itself into being. Now, it was hard to picture what her future would hold beyond sleep and breakfast.