‘She is, but she’s been busy with Boskenna.’

Diana looked to the big house. This was the place she loved most in the world, with its round ends and secret floor. It wasn’t secret really, but it was easy to miss because everyone looked at the ends and the big windows. The second floor wasn’t often used but Mummy had Mrs Hoskine airing out a room above hers for some American arriving tomorrow. The window was still open so the room must be very short of breath.

‘Does Boskenna need Mummy?’ They walked along the gravel path framing the lawn. They had played croquet yesterday before the rain, but Mr Hoskine had put the croquet set away.

‘Yes, because the old dame has damp and the roof needs attention.’

‘Is dame another word for house? What sort of attention does the roof need and is Mummy wiping the damp up?’

‘Something like that.’ Daddy laughed, and she joined him. She liked it when Daddy laughed, and he hadn’t been doing it enough lately. Even Mummy said that. Diana had overheard them talking when they’d arrived. She had hidden in her favourite spot under the small table just outside the dining room. Mummy was worried about him. Daddy had said he was just tired, but Mummy had given him one of her looks. Diana knew those looks too well.

9

Lottie

3 August 2018, 5.20 p.m.

With secateurs in hand and her grandmother’s flower trug on her arm, Lottie walked out through the French windows in the smoking room. The name amused her as no one in the house smoked any more. It harked back to a time when men would have port and a cigar after dinner. She had no trouble picturing Boskenna then. Evening gowns, dinner jackets and household help. It was so far from today’s casual world. It was easier now but some of the world’s beauty had been lost with it. She rarely designed a formal piece of jewellery. Those rare pieces she did create were normally by special order for the Middle East. Fun, but she couldn’t imagine anyone apart from a royal or a celebrity wearing those designs. Up until two weeks ago when she had to cease trading because she had nothing left to sell, most of her work was being sold through a few outlets and her website. She specialised in making wearable pieces featuring semi-precious gems with gold, silver and other metal. She’d only used precious gems for special commissions and for the pieces that were supposed to go in the exhibition at the V&A in the new year.

Stopping at the flowerbed beside the house, she snipped the stem of a white Japanese anemone with rather more force than was necessary. She couldn’t undo the past, she knew that. But what brought the bile to her mouth was her own stupidity and gullibility. How had she missed the signs? Had she been so desperate for love that she’d been blind to Paul’s faults? She’d worked with him for five years and he’d been her mentor. Cutting another anemone, this time she took more care. She had landed herself in a huge mess and it would take time to fix. Somehow, though, she would find a way out and more importantly, a way forward.