‘Yeah. Fine, thanks.’ She always slept well when Charlie was away, and she never had to get up in the night with the baby, she let the au pair do that. Milly’s birth had kicked the crap out of her, but she was feeling much better now. It was going to be her last experience of all that and she knew Charlie was devastated. He did care for his daughter Milly but he craved a son. Terry would probably have a son one of these days. Jill – the sainted beautiful Jill – would give him one, without any effort at all. But it was beyond Nula, she couldn’t deliver more children, she was a rotten failure as a woman, and that ate at her, dug deep into her insecurities.

‘Coffee?’ Terry asked.

‘Thanks.’

Terry poured her out a mug. ‘Sugar? Milk?’

Nula shook her head. She was working herself up to something bold, something major, and now was the time to do it. Charlie was due back tomorrow. She was over the birth now, she felt fine. Fully functioning. Figure back to normal. Tits still looking good.

She’d prepared for this, but now she felt nervous.

Fortune favours the brave, she thought. Didn’t they say that?

But now the moment had come, she wondered if she could go through with it. Yes, she’d planned this. She was wearing her sky-blue silk robe and she’d done her make-up, styled her hair. She’d checked herself out in the dressing room mirror before she’d come downstairs. She’d opened up the gap over her now quite spectacular breasts – she hadn’t breastfed Milly for an instant longer than completely necessary, no bloody way – then she’d fluffed up her hair, smiled at herself in the mirror. She looked good. Didn’t she?

‘Terry,’ she said, taking a sip of coffee.

‘Hm?’ He glanced up from the paper and his gorgeous green eyes met hers.

‘I’m going to say something to you. Just once. And if you don’t like the sound of it, that’s fine. If you do like it, that’s fine too and we’ll go ahead. But we won’t talk about it, ever again. It’ll be forgotten.’

He was frowning at her. God, he was handsome. Charlie was not bad looking, but he was dark and short. Terry by contrast was tall as a Greek god. For years Nula had been fantasizing about him. Oh, her and Charlie had messed about with some of their other ‘friends’. But Terry was Charlie’s closest buddy, in a separate league to all those others.

She remembered her arsehole of a brother saying that Terry had only taken pity on her that long-ago night in the dance hall. Maybe he had; but she was so changed now.