It wasn’t just that Derek and his friends’ families were wealthier than Faye’s; they also took for granted they’d be welcome wherever they wanted to go whenever it suited them. For a while, when Faye first began going out with Derek, she would look around waiting for the moment someone would tell her she wasn’t authorised to be there. It didn’t happen, but it never occurred to her that it was because she deserved to be there as much as they did. She always felt that she was there because of them. Perhaps, she thought, if she married Derek, she would learn to belong. Still, it came as a surprise to her when, just a few days later, Derek proposed.

He was waiting for her when she left work.

“This is nice,” said Faye, as they got into his car. “Always a treat not to have to catch the train.”

“I thought we could drive to Mouille Point and go for a walk on the promenade,” he said.

“Sounds lovely.”

They hadn’t walked far when, without looking at her, Derek took her hand and said, “Do you want to get married?”

Faye stopped. So did he. When she didn’t say anything, he turned to her. “Well?”

“Are you asking me if it’s something I want to do in general, or if—”

“Of course not.”

She stared at him.

Derek smiled and took her hands in his. “Faye, will you marry me?”

“Really?”

He cocked his head, still smiling. “Everyone’s doing it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, they are and . . . yes, I’ll marry you.”

She didn’t remember much more of the afternoon. It was only at lunch with her mother a few days later, when Veronica made reference to how “biting” Derek’s comments could be, that Faye realised how muted her mother and father had been in their congratulations when she told them her news.

Faye saw Derek in a new light during their engagement. She had never thought about spending the rest of her life with him, and now that she’d said she would, she imagined being with him all the time and realised how different that would be from dating him. She noticed Derek was often impatient and intolerant with others. He believed most people who didn’t agree with him were foolish and those who changed their minds, weak. When Bruce, newly married to Diane, told his friends that he wasn’t coping with the stresses of being a medical doctor and had decided to retrain as a pharmacist, Derek emitted a scornful laugh.

“That’s ridiculous! What a waste of time and money,” he said.

“What do you want him to do, Derek?” bristled Diane. “Be miserable for the rest of his life?”

“Of course not. Make it work for you, man. Choose a specialisation that doesn’t . . . I don’t know . . . cause you stress. Or whatever it is you’re experiencing.”