‘So if I’d come clean when the letter arrived, you’d just have said, “ Well, hey, never mind, these things happen ”?’

‘Don’t be facetious, Michael.’

‘I’m not. But are you seriously telling me you’d just have forgiven me and let it go – are you?’ His tone was challenging.

‘It’s not up to me to forgive you.’

‘Yes, it is. You’re my wife. I cheated on you with a young girl.’

Oddly, Romy had never seen it as ‘cheating’. That he’d violated Grace in a moment of madness was the issue. It was both more and less than cheating. She didn’t reply.

‘Look, I’ve let you down. I accept that. But I’ve apologized. I don’t know what else I can do.’ He picked up his cup and took a gulp of coffee, which, she thought, must be stone cold by now. ‘Can we put all this behind us, do you think?’ He let out a tired breath. ‘It was a stupid, inappropriate fumble. One I will always regret. But certainly not a sexual assault. The whole thing’s been blown up to ridiculous proportions by that letter. I did not attack Grace Fleetwood.’

Romy didn’t move, didn’t speak. His request paralysed her. His explanation was almost plausible, his contrition almost solid. Almost …

He wasn’t pleading with her, thank goodness, when he said, his voice quietly firm, ‘I’ve had the worst wake-up call anyone could imagine, Romy. I’ve lain in that bed all these weeks, confronting who I am and what I’ve done. And it’s not a pretty sight. Yes, I’ve had a successful career – now over, I fear – but when you strip that away, what’s left?’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Except the boys, not a lot.’ He swallowed. ‘But can’t you and I find a way to move on from this, somehow?’

He smiled at her. It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and Romy felt something give inside her. She suddenly had an image of the two of them waking up in that shabby London bedsit, which smelt of damp and something more sinister, the innocence of them both, the childish thrill of being in love, their optimism for the future stretching ahead of them, like the mythical Yellow Brick Road.

She noted the cautious relief that flooded Michael’s face as she gave him a half-smile in return. But later, when she was alone, Romy realized she felt trapped by Michael’s apology. He seemed to think that that was an end to it – case closed. The pressure was on her now, to get over her anger, to forgive him. ‘Come on,’ his smile was saying, ‘you know you’re on my side.’