“About another fifteen minutes, I guess. No thanks—to the coffee: I have a pretty strict caffeine-free diet, I’m afraid.” Still on red light, she moved across to the wet area again, put on rubber gloves, and put the contact sheets in the developing tray, handling everything with tongs.

“No bloody coffee. No chocolate. No cream. No fats. No salt. No smoking. Watch the sugar. Not too much booze…That’s class. I hope…some other pleasures are allowed, are they?”

Lucy had been watching the print start to appear and laughed out loud, blushing unseen in the strange light. She knew what he meant, but even though she was at ease in Simon’s company, she was too private to discuss this with him. She removed the first contact and rinsed it, placing it in fixer again. “You make me sound very dull. Other pleasures are fine…but don’t even think that gives you a license to be prurient.” She threw him a warning glance, but there was just the hint of a grin underneath it as she rinsed the contact again and hung it to dry.

“Mm, I’m delighted to hear that.” Simon hadn’t meant to touch a nerve, but he was aware through Grace of the frustrations Lucy had experienced with Alex. He was sure Alex was just being professional and not rushing her after her surgery, but he’d noticed quietly that she seemed changed on her return from France, that she now exuded something very sexy. Good for you, sweetheart, he thought.

She swiveled around to face him with an expression of dry humor, and put the full light on again. “Put those gloves on and help me get these out of the frames.” He heard the caution in her voice not to ask further.

She took some negatives out and labeled them while Simon struggled with some clips; then something caught her eye. She grasped the viewing glass and placed it over the sheet, nearer the light source. There was a knock, and Simon enquired if it was safe to open. She nodded, not taking her eyes off the contact sheet. Alex came in with lemongrass tea, anxious to know what was happening; he noticed Lucy’s fixed stare on the pictures. Something about it alarmed him, and he walked straight over and put a protective hand on her back.

“What is it?”

“This. The car.” She looked from one man’s face to the other, then back to the images. “Here. I don’t know where Will took these shots, but this is the car that picked me up in Chartres. The car I was abducted in.”

“Are you certain?” Alex locked on to her.

“Definitely.”

SOME MINUTES LATER SHE WAS SEATED ON THE SOFA, WATCHING THE OTHERS scrutinize the last contact sheet to see if they recognized any features in it. Alex was beside her, intent on her, but she seemed calm—if pensive.