Besides, if she did call David and told him Rory was sick, he’d probably go chasing off up to the school, upsetting Rory and causing mayhem.

On the other hand, she had promised . . .

Angelina’s hand hovered over the phone. No. The best thing for Rory was to have a peaceful weekend in bed with no upsetting disturbances. David would just have to cope.

On the bright side, the advantage to having no Rory this weekend was that she could take Julian’s breakfast upstairs, slip under the covers with him and tell him there was no need to decamp to the flat he was currently renting in Norwich.

As she warmed the croissant in the Aga and brewed some fresh coffee, Angelina looked down her list of ‘things to do’. She’d gone on to a website last week, pretended she was Julian, so she could gain access to the St Stephen’s class of ’84. She’d left a message with a few of the names there in the hope that some of his old classmates would contact her and she could invite them to Julian’s fortieth party as a surprise. She’d subtly found out from Julian who exactly in his year he’d been particularly friendly with.

Angelina carried the tray upstairs and into the bedroom. Julian was lying on his side, naked and still asleep. He was beautiful, his body fit and strong from sessions at the gym, his thick black hair a contrast against the bright white of the pillow.

She put the tray on the floor next to the bed, then took off her robe and slid under the covers next to him. His back was facing her, so she gently kissed the protruding knobbles of his spine, starting at his neck and moving slowly down to his coccyx. He murmured sleepily as a hand snaked round to the front of his body to caress him and feel his excitement.

Moaning slightly, he rolled over to face her.

‘Morning, darling,’ he murmured.

‘Morning.’ Angelina covered his face with kisses, finally finding his mouth and pressing her tongue inside. A hand reached for her small, neat breasts, the other slid down to find her buttocks and pull her closer to him.

Afterwards, Angelina lay in his arms, sated and content, thinking the passion she felt for Julian had never been there for David.

She reached for the breakfast tray and placed it on the bed.

‘Good news, darling. Well, for you, anyway. Rory is ill, so he’s in the san. Matron thinks it’s better if he stays there for the weekend, rather than coming home here. I’ll go and see him, but it means you and I can spend the weekend together.’

‘Good God! You don’t know what a pleasure it is when a man is told he can stay in his own home,’ Julian replied sarcastically.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Coffee?’

‘Yes.’ Julian sat up and took the cup from her. ‘Anyway, as our secret’s out via your ex-husband, I vote we should take the plunge and be seen in Foltesham High Street together. “Come out” as an official couple. What do you think?’