‘Patrick?’

Jazz needed to say it now. She took a deep breath.

‘Thank you for being here. I really appreciate it.’

‘No problem, really.’

Jazz’s teeth were chattering, even in her wool coat. She stumbled slightly and Patrick grabbed her around her waist. ‘Come on, it’s not far now.’

The hotel was the kind of place that Jazz would not think of entering under any normal circumstances. She sat down in the small, ugly reception while Patrick checked them in and got the keys.

They mounted the stairs, covered in a worn patterned carpet.

‘Here we are.’ Patrick put the key in the lock and opened the door. Jazz walked through into the small but surprisingly pretty room. Patrick followed her and closed the door behind them.

‘So now, shall I be running you a nice hot bath?’ he suggested.

‘Don’t worry, I can do it. You go and get some sleep. You must be exhausted too.’

‘Me? No! I’ve had a day off reading the paper and drinking tea. I’m grand altogether.’

‘Well, anyway, thanks a lot.’ She kissed him peremptorily on the cheek. ‘Goodnight.’

She turned, walked into the bathroom and put the light on. Patrick stood in the doorway watching her as she put the plug in.

‘Jazz, I’m afraid this was the only room they were having available. The place is heaving due to stranded commuters, so I’m afraid I’m in here with you. I’m prepared to sleep in the chair if that’s what you’d be wanting.’

She turned abruptly to look up at him. ‘You are joking?’

‘No, I swear. Call down to reception and ask them.’

‘Christ!’ Jazz turned the water on full pelt.

‘I’m sorry, really. I promise it isn’t a ruse to be having my way with you, just the grand old British weather.’

When Jazz didn’t reply, he shrugged. ‘I understand. I’ll be off to sleep in the car.’

He headed out of the bathroom. Jazz gave an inner scream of frustration, then followed him.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Patrick! You’ll freeze to death and then that’ll be on my conscience too.’ She glanced at the bed, which at least seemed to be a decent size. ‘I’ll cope, somehow,’ she muttered, then turned back into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.

Lying in the bath, letting the warm water unknot her aching shoulders and calm her frayed nerves, she closed her eyes and tried to be rational. Whatever had happened in the past, Patrick had been wonderful today, and it really wasn’t his fault they were now in this predicament.

They were both grown-ups. Of course they could cope.

She reached for the thin towel, draped it round her and got out of the bath, realising that, just to top it all, she had nothing to sleep in. Putting her underwear back on and pulling the towel on top of that, she walked back into the bedroom.

Patrick was already in bed, his clothes draped over the chair. He was propped up with his hands behind his head, watching her.