He made a face. “I think I need my own bed tonight to catch up on sleep deficit. I’ll call you.”

Val swallowed. There was no arrangement in place for them to see each other again, just a vague “I’ll call you.” It didn’t sound good. When they hugged goodbye at King’s Cross station, she almost burst into tears but held back. Time enough for that later.

* * *

That afternoon, they went to Peggy’s. Nicole rushed to stroke Toffee, who had been staying with them, then she and Lenny disappeared up to his bedroom. Val slumped at the kitchen table and told Peggy the story of their trip and her fear that Bill was about to break up with her. She felt sick with a mixture of sleep deprivation and worry.

Peggy frowned in concentration. “Maybe you should have heeded his warning not to mention the Romanovs, but it’s hardly a hanging offense.”

“It’s as if he stopped loving me, just like that.” Val snapped her fingers. “Maybe none of it was real.”

Peggy shook her head. “Perhaps it’s not about you at all. It’s easy to take everything personally in a relationship, but men can be moody critters. They say we’re the ones who get PMT, but I swear Ken has it worse than I do. Roughly once a month he turns into a bad-tempered git. I just ignore him and he reverts back soon enough. I’d say hang in there, be cool, just act like everything’s normal.”

“How can I when he won’t even make a date to see me?” Val wailed.

Peggy rolled her eyes. “You’re straight off a thirty-nine-hour flight. Give the guy time to catch his breath. In fact, give him time to miss you. Don’t call him; let him call you.”

Val felt vaguely reassured by her words, but protested, “I don’t want to play hard to get. That’s not my style.”

Peggy shrugged. “You’re not playing anything. I imagine you’re going to be very busy over the next few days, what with unpacking and laundry. Just get on with your life.” She wagged an admonishing finger. “And don’t call him!”

* * *

Bill didn’t ring that day or the next, and Val’s resolve was beginning to slip, but he called the following morning, sounding reasonably cheerful.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“Oh, busy,” Val said breezily, channeling Peggy’s advice. “Loads to do.”

“Want to have dinner tomorrow night?” he asked. “Either get a sitter or I’ll come to yours?”

“You come here,” she said immediately. If he was planning to break up with her, she didn’t want the ax to fall while they were in a restaurant surrounded by strangers.

“OK. I’ll bring Bess in that case.”