As if in answer to her question, more screams came from below, and Nick’s strident voice announced, “Eleven hours, seventeen minutes,” followed immediately by Miranda’s, “Can I have mine all tonight?”

Phyllis and Zeno left the house—where they had finally made contact—without so much as a look back.

In the haste to discover the precise total of life’s foremost pleasure, the absence of Zeno and Phyllis was not immediately noticed. However, once it was, a search in the manner of hide and seek was instigated before the announcement of the winners and losers. Nick, already devising special forfeits for them both as punishments for abstaining, and anticipating coming upon errant love-making, took the less conventional settings—basement, cupboards, cellars and the coal bunker—whilst Miranda scoured the bedrooms. Captain Toby investigated the gymnasium, the Rose and Flick had second helpings of summer pudding.

Fleur was momentarily anxious in case Vanella had forgotten to lock the toyroom. She was zealously hospitable—with the exception of this one department. When it was certain the prey had not gone to earth, but had run for cover, there was a desultory post-mortem over coffee in the garden. The enormous orange moon rose unnoticed. Miranda and her husband were the only couple to take visible umbrage. She cornered him and hissed rattily, “I can’t believe how unsubtle you were.”

“Thought I’d nudge her towards you—it’s worked before.”

“It worked on a dyke with fried-egg tits—this numero had class.”

“Just a nudge.”

“Nudge? Chuck would be more accurate. As soon as I mentioned we were married, she assumed we were in tandem.”

“Fleur told me she was gay. You sure she got a good look at you?”

“Outside of doing a can-can. Perhaps she wasn’t in the mood. The full moon doesn’t affect everyone the same. Or perhaps she had PMS.”

“Didn’t stop that fairy, Zeno—did it? Vegetarian, my arse.”

Miranda giggled. “What’s so humorous?”

“You whingeing. You who can get anyone. But the one that gets away drives you crazy. You boys . . .”

“Just in the mood, that’s all,” said Nick, petulance still in evidence.

“Hold onto that mood, boy—I may check you out later. Come on, lover, smile for the camera.”

“Zeno Studd. How could she leave with a guy called that?”

“Put your nose out of joint, that’s for sure.”

“If it were only my nose . . .”

Scenting bitchiness, Fleur sailed over. “Bad upbringing, that’s what I say—leaving without so much as a ‘by your leave’.” And then, “Come on—let’s open some more champagne.”

They did. But later, when Toby discovered the singed curl in the sink, it made them curious again, and set them wondering anew.