I’m sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee, watching Saffron gathering together the ingredients for her next cooking marathon. Her chin juts out a little as she lays out onions, shallots, mushrooms, chuck steak, red wine, garlic and bouquet garni. Even though she is vegan she cooks a lot of meaty dishes for the house these days. Mozart’s Horn Concertos blast from the Sonos. Whistling along to the melody as she works. Distracted, Miles said. Determined, more like.

118

Saffron

Sitting in my office, I google The Times Rich List, considering who to approach next. Despite all the encouragement from Julie and Ted, despite all my efforts, I still need a new client. A knock on the office door. It opens and Julie appears. She is wearing Margaret Thatcher blue today, so bright it hurts my eyes. Julie is a lovely woman. She has forgiven me for my dreadful possessive behaviour, and treats me with kindness, just as she always has. But I haven’t forgiven myself, every time I think about my hissy fit, I feel ashamed. She walks across the room and hands me a letter.

‘It’s first class, from the Law Society. I thought you’d better open it straight away.’

‘Thanks.’

I do as she suggests. She stands watching me as I read. They’ve received a serious complaint about BPC. The words on the page push into my mind like daggers.

119

Caprice

Saffron is home from work early. I hear her car pull into the drive. The front door slams. She stomps up the stairs like an angry teenager. I open my bedroom door and step onto the landing. She looks awful. No make-up. Hair that needs combing.

‘Is everything all right, dear?’ I ask.

She glowers at me with blazing eyes. ‘If it wasn’t, you’d be the last person I’d talk to about it.’

120

Hayley

I’m lying in bed thinking of you. Always thinking of you. How many ways do you please me? Your brown eyes melt into mine like honey. Your body is taut. Hard. Muscular. You keep strong by working hard in the swimming pool. I watch your chest rising from the water as you glide up and down, practising butterfly stroke. You have a flurry of downy hair on your pecs. When you get out of the water I admire your thighs. Neat, not over-muscled, but powerful. Masculine but not macho. A perfect balance.

It feels like a teenage crush, but it isn’t. It’s not all about oestrogen and testosterone. You are thoughtful and intelligent. You make me laugh. You make me think. You gave me a second chance to stay with your family; didn’t turn Saffron against me. You make me smile. You are considerate. Good with children. You adore opera.

I don’t care about the twenty-year age difference. I value your life experience, your maturity. If we had a relationship it would be made in heaven.

121

Miles