So, she had decided. And he knew now that it was beyond recall. He was going to say he didn’t think it would be a good idea, but a voice interrupted before he could speak.

‘Well, Mr Bannerman, isn’t this a surprise. Come on, Henry. You don’t mind if we join you, Mr Bannerman?’ Mrs Schumacher sat herself down without waiting for his reply.

Bannerman turned in astonishment. Mrs Schumacher grinned at him, her face flushed in that way he had seen at the party. She had been drinking. Again. Behind her Henry Schumacher hovered apologetically. He nodded politely at Bannerman and the girl. ‘Perhaps they want to be alone, dear,’ he said.

‘Oh, nonsense, Henry, sit down.’ Then to Bannerman, ‘Well, Mr Bannerman, this is unexpected. Aren’t you going to introduce us to your young lady?’ And confidentially, ‘You certainly are a fast worker. Does she speak English?’

Bannerman smiled indulgently. ‘She is English. Miss Sally Robertson – Mr and Mrs Schumacher.’

Sally was taken aback by the sudden arrival of this garrulous American woman with her big bosoms and timid husband. She took a moment to collect herself. ‘How do you do?’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear.’

A waiter arrived promptly at the table and Mrs Schumacher flashed him a winning smile. ‘How are you tonight, Jean?’

‘I am very well, Madame. Have you had a good evening?’ He looked almost as though he might be genuinely interested in her reply.

‘Why, yes, Jean, as always. We took your advice about that little restaurant in the Grande Place. Exquisite.’

‘I’m very pleased, Madame. You will have a sherry?’

‘Well, yes. But just a very small one.’

‘And Monsieur?’

‘A whisky-soda, please.’

Jean bowed and dematerialized into the gloom.

Sally and Bannerman exchanged looks. ‘Actually we were just leaving,’ Bannerman said.

Schumacher leaped self-consciously to his feet to allow Sally out from behind the table. ‘Perhaps you would join us for a drink tomorrow night,’ he said. ‘We are going home on Sunday.’ He seemed so eager for their company that Bannerman was almost sorry to turn him down.

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’

‘That’s a pity,’ Mrs Schumacher said. ‘Tomorrow’s our last day, and I would so have liked to hear all about the exciting world of newspapers. We’re flying back to Edinburgh on Sunday morning to spend a few more days there before going back to the States. It is The Times you work for, isn’t it?’

‘The Post. The Edinburgh Post.’

She frowned as the myth she had been constructing in her mind crumbled. She would no doubt rebuild it over the next few days. ‘Wasn’t it just terrible about that poor Mr Griffin?’

‘Gryffe,’ Bannerman corrected her.

‘And to think we were speaking to him just the night before he was killed.’

‘Yes,’ Bannerman said. ‘Goodbye. I hope you have a good journey.’