Smiling, I look around the bedroom at all the accoutrements of just that. Mummy was accomplished, accomplished at keeping her drinking hidden. She was the life and soul of the party. I pause, looking at myself in the mirror with her pearls about my neck, in her house which is now mine. If she knew, she would approve. Allan is the political attaché in Moscow and I am the ultimate hostess. But looks can be very deceiving and a smile spreads across my mouth.

‘What’s so amusing?’ Allan walks through the door and comes to stand beside me. He runs a hand down my bare arm. It is the only contact we’ve had in days. He hasn’t been sleeping and I hear his footsteps in the darkness as he paces by the windows. After wearing the carpet out, he heads downstairs then outside where he lights up a cigarette. The smoke makes its way into the bedroom and I lie awake until he returns just before dawn.

‘Nothing important.’

He pulls the zip on my dress up the final inch, running his finger along the base of my neck. ‘You’ve gone a delicious brown.’

My skin glows, from the Cornish air if not the blazing sun. My dark hair is highlighted from a week here. I look like my younger self, more like the woman he knew as a teenager – long and leggy.

‘It’s all the gardening of late.’ I look down at his hand as he links his fingers through mine. ‘You’ve gone brown yourself.’

‘Not sure how, with the dismal weather. Here’s hoping for some sun this weekend.’

But I knew that being on the sea brought colour even if the sun wasn’t bright. He’s been sailing every day and spending time with the Americans. Diana has loved being on the water, so I haven’t commented on the excessive amount of time he’s spent with them. Allan is like that. Making fast new friends and cutting out the rest of the world until it drags him back. Mostly I haven’t minded and many times it has helped. But I can’t quite put my finger on what is troubling him.

He yawns and pulls his hand from mine.

‘Tired?’

‘Just the fresh air.’ He laughs and turns away. ‘I’ll have a quick bath to freshen up.’ He runs his fingers through his hair. Even though we’ve been here just a week a few freckles have appeared across his cheeks adding to his youthful look, but there is a slight greyness under that tan which is new. He strips off, desire fills me and he sends me a knowing smile, as he grabs his dressing gown then leaves the bedroom before I can act on my need or ask about the sleeplessness. He knows I know.

Eventually he will tell me. He always does.

12

Diana

3 August 1962, 5.50 p.m.

Diana watched Daddy go into the house. Uncle Tom was already dressed for dinner and he stood beside her. ‘Shall we take a short walk?’