The hotel bar was light and airy and sophisticated in a Country Living kind of way, with patio windows along one length of it, giving a pretty view of the landscaped grounds. Groups of people sat outside, illuminated in the darkness by the light from the garden lamps, and the soft glow inside the bar made the chandeliers sparkle. The wood-panelled walls were adorned with vast paintings of straight-backed eighteenth-century equestrians and their prancing horses, and the huge room was filled with plump sofas and comfortable armchairs. At the far end was the biggest fireplace Sasha had ever seen. A man in a casual suit played a passable ‘Candle in the Wind’ on the piano.

There was a raucous group of people who looked like they were cutting loose after a day of meetings in one of the hotel’s conference rooms, but mostly the sofas were filled with couples, who looked tanned and healthy from playing tennis all day on the hotel courts.

A barman placed a bowl of nuts at her side. ‘What can I get you?’

‘I’ll have…’ She scanned the long menu of wines and saw how expensive everything was. Hell, she was here now, and goodness knows she deserved a decent glass after her long week. Besides, she was only going to have the one, and was almost looking forward to getting an early night in that large, comfortable four-poster.

She pointed at a red with an unpronounceable Argentinian name and a ridiculous price. ‘I’ll have the Malbec, please.’

As the barman poured, Sasha looked up at the mirror behind the bar to watch the room: people ordering drinks or heading into dinner. One handsome guy who came in the door and sat on a sofa in front of the epic fireplace turned her head. When he glanced in her direction, she looked quickly away. Crossing her legs, the hem of her dress rode up her thighs and she tugged it down. The wine tasted like liquid velvet.

But she couldn’t shift Rachel Weston from her head, and before she even realized what she was doing, she took the phone from her bag and dialled Ajay’s number. Something, a question, a nagging feeling, played across the edge of her mind, but it was elusive. It was something that needed checking, and she hoped that speaking to Ajay might jog her memory.

‘Mrs Dawson,’ he said, hearing the ambient sounds of the bar. ‘How’s the High Life?’

‘It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it.’ She sighed. ‘Kev’s delayed in London, so I’m sitting in the bar drinking a glass of wine all on my lonesome.’

‘If it wasn’t mine and The Husband’s anniversary tonight, I’d be there like a shot.’

She popped a nut in her mouth and chewed. ‘What’s the latest?’