‘Mummy, what’s funny?’

‘Nothing important.’

‘Funny is always important.’ She gives me a piercing look. I make no sense to her, for I am intuitive and she is logical like Allan.

‘I’m going to start my diary now.’ She races to her room, which used to be mine. Twelve years ago I looked out of that same window and saw Allan for the first time. My heart missed a beat then and still does now as I begin down the stairs. The object of my thoughts is looking more handsome now than he had then. I had been eighteen and he twenty-four. My parents were celebrating their twentieth wedding anniversary. They never made it to their twenty-fifth.

‘Darling.’ Allan waits with a smile lighting up his face. The man is too handsome for his own good. He holds out a hand. Reaching the bottom step, I take it and he twines his fingers through mine. I shiver, loving his touch and yearning to take him upstairs, but instead we walk through to the drawing room, the picture of a golden couple.

Allan releases my hand, heading to the drinks table, and I move towards Lady Fox, Allan’s aunt.

‘Is everything in your room as it should be?’

‘Of course, my dear.’ She smiles. ‘Thank you for giving us your parents’ room looking out to Black Head. Mesmerizing. Despite the weather, I was so riveted by the view it’s a wonder I managed to apply my lipstick properly.’

‘True, it is a distraction.’

Outside, rain hits the windows obscuring everything but the sound of the sea, ever present. Tonight because of the weather, the windows are shut yet I can still hear the sea when the music pauses. The tide is high and the wind has picked up. Thinking of the beach brings the Americans to mind. They wouldn’t have enjoyed this evening, despite the fact that many of the people they should meet locally are here. I can’t see Lady Fox enjoying their company and with only ten tonight she couldn’t have avoided them. Tomorrow it will be easier with more people, more distraction.

‘Not sure how you can bear to leave Boskenna.’

My glance strays to Allan making a gin and tonic.

‘Ah, yes, the things we do for love.’ She picks up a devilled egg. Mrs Hoskine has done a marvellous job with the canapes and I take a deep breath. Life is about being flexible.

‘I do admire you, dear, following Allan all over the world. How long have you been in Moscow now?’

I force a smile. ‘Nearly two years.’

‘Fascinating place to be living at the moment, I should imagine.’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you expect to be there much longer?’

I look down at the bracelet on my wrist. If I didn’t know better, I would think I’m being pumped for information, but this is his aunt who I’ve known since childhood and this isn’t Moscow. She, of all the people here this weekend, has nothing to do with the diplomatic world. She belongs to the gardening one, competing against Boskenna every year at the flower show. Each year Pengarrock, Boconnoc, Caerhays, or Boskenna would win. Of course, those gardens are far larger and Boskenna being so close to the sea with little protection from the east winds, faced different challenges.