‘Come on,’ you say. ‘Enough of buildings and ghosts. Let’s go and look at the gardens.’

The gardens are my favourite part. The privy garden, which has been restored to the original garden plan constructed by King William III in 1702, is magnificent. You look out onto it from the back of the palace and it stretches as far as the eye can see and is perfectly balanced.

We walk through acres and acres of gardens until my feet ache. My favourite plants are the dahlias. Planted in July and still full of colour at the beginning of November. Pinks and purples and blues. Some rose-like. Some like camelias. Petals like leaves. Petals like feathers. A blast of structure and colour.

I beam at you. ‘These plants are fantastic. When I get home I’m going to join the Dahlia Society of New Zealand.’

‘There must be a dahlia society in the UK,’ he teases me with his eyes. ‘Why don’t you join that and stay here?’

47

Caprice

You have been delayed at work, again. There is such a lovely atmosphere without you at Wellbeck House, Saffron. Everyone is so much more relaxed. The boys are enjoying chicken nuggets and ketchup, without a sigh and a look. Miles has cooked steak for the three adults. We are having steak sandwiches with horseradish sauce. Nice and easy. No fuss.

Hayley and Miles seem invigorated after their outing to Hampton Court Palace. They walked for hours in the fresh air, apparently, laughing and chatting. I’ve not seen Miles look so cheerful for weeks. They showed me the photographs they took on their iPhones, looking like a couple. Oh Miles, if you’re not interested in Julie, maybe a real antipodean jewel like Hayley is just the tonic you need to put your life back on track.

I knew as soon as she arrived that she was interested in you. With a little encouragement could I ensure you were interested in her, too?

48

Saffron

My life is engulfing me, overwhelming me. I need to take control or I’ll fall into a black hole, an abyss. First, I must handle my business. And then you, Caprice.

I slip out of bed and shower. I’m meeting a prospective client today. A bit OCD about clothes, I stand in front of my extensive wardrobe, arranged as perfectly as a top-end shop display, and try on lilac cashmere. Insipid. Khaki denim. Too casual, and the colour does nothing for me. I shouldn’t have bought that dress. In the end I take a punt with a grey suit and crisp white blouse. A bit ‘office-boring’, but saved by being perfectly cut.