You have a hangover, and so do I, but I won’t mention that in my diary. My mother would disapprove of me drinking and working for a family who also overdo it with booze. I’ve given you ibuprofen and paracetamol. Lemon and ginger tea. You have smiled weakly and thanked me, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Your eyes have black bags beneath them, which make you look like a panda.

Saffron has taken the boys out to Windsor Great Park, but you weren’t feeling up to joining them. Caprice is having a quiet day napping in her room. Instead of having a day with your family you are lying on the sofa in the drawing room watching TV. The Andrew Marr Show. Politics London. A Very Country Christmas. When it comes to Sunday Worship you finally turn the television off.

I have stepped into the drawing room to check you are all right. I stand looking down at you, wrapped in a furry blanket that belongs to Harry, eyes wide and woebegone. You haven’t shaved. You are paler than pale.

‘Can I get you anything?’ I ask. ‘Anything at all I can do to help?’

‘You are so comforting.’ You smile. ‘You can help me by working here forever. What can I do to bribe you to stay and not go back to New Zealand?’

My heart lurches but I laugh. ‘You shouldn’t have said that. Nearer the time, I might take you up on it. Make you pay for an educational course to extend my visa.’

25

Saffron

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, I am trawling through my working week, watching Julie and Miles like a hawk. Being polite but distant. This week I have been keeping my office door open so that I can hear Julie answering the phone, able to keep myself totally aware of who she is talking to. The office supply company. An electrician who is coming to put some new lights in. Today she is looking extra-glamorous. Slightly more make-up than usual. Slightly shorter skirt. Perhaps I should follow her at lunchtime. Perhaps today is the day the lovers will make contact.

Julie emerges from behind the reception desk and saunters towards the toilet. As the door closes behind her I walk out of my office to hover by the reception desk. She has left her iPhone on the counter. It buzzes. I can’t help myself. I pick it up. She has a new text.

Promise you won’t tell her yet. She’ll find out soon enough.

Love Miles x

‘Love Miles’ and a kiss. Part of me dies inside. I have loved Miles for so long. Trusted him with every aspect of my life. This is too much. My life will fragment without Miles.