The evening ahead was unlikely to be a bundle of laughs. Listening to Tristan drone on – Jack had been right there, he did tend to fixate on the most boring of subjects. Her cheeks would ache from the plastered-on smile she’d wear that would probably look as false as it felt.

It might have been a good idea to go to the gym or do a few lengths in the pool, but she couldn’t rustle up enthusiasm for either. Instead, she returned to her room and lay on her bed reading until it was time to get ready.

At seven thirty, wearing a pale-blue, knee-length silk shift dress that was an old favourite and more importantly, loose and cool, she headed back to the lounge.

Although Amelia had said seven thirty, it was obvious she’d been there a while, ice-cubes from a finished G and T melting in the bottom of a glass, the second in her hand, half drunk.

‘Molly!’ Amelia’s voice was raucous, a good indication that the drink in her hand wasn’t the second.

‘Hi,’ Molly said, taking a seat opposite.

‘What’ll you have?’ Tristan asked, getting to his feet.

‘A mineral water, please.’

Amelia snorted. ‘Water! You’re going to be a bundle of laughs.’

Tempted to say that it looked as if her friend was drinking enough for the two of them, Molly took a breath and let it out. There was never any point in crossing swords with someone inebriated. Instead, she gave her a friendly smile. ‘I’ll catch up later, I’m a bit thirsty.’

When Tristan returned with her drink, he suggested they move into the restaurant. ‘I’m starving,’ he admitted, patting an abdomen that strained against his shirt buttons.

‘Fine with me.’ Molly picked up her handbag and stood, waiting for Amelia before heading from the lounge.

The restaurant was a breathtakingly beautiful room. The clever use of mirrors on the rather low ceiling gave the illusion of space and reflected light from the numerous candles and carefully-positioned lamps. The walls were dark with a profusion of paintings set into ornate silver picture frames. Overall, the look was a gothic fantasy. It was, Molly decided, fabulous.

It was also very flattering. In the soft light, every woman there looked ten years younger.

‘This is lovely,’ she said as they sat around a circular table set for three.

With food ordered and wine poured, they relaxed into social chit-chat. It wasn’t until they were on coffee that Tristan, more verbose after several glasses of wine, looked at Molly intently and asked, ‘Have you never been tempted to change jobs… in all these years?’