Maxine shot a triumphant glance at Guy, who was reading the paper and eating the children’s Jaffa cakes. ‘The answer’s still no.’

Guy, apparently engrossed in his horoscope, didn’t react.

At the other end of the line Bruno laughed. ‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you that the saintly act doesn’t suit you? Come on now, you owe me one night out at least. Have you any idea how much it cost me to get the nail varnish cleaned off that car seat?’

‘Serves you right,’ said Maxine briskly. And no, I don’t owe you anything. If you’re so determined to go out tomorrow night I suggest you take Nina.’

Guy ate another Jaffa cake.

‘She’s gone to stay with her sister in Kent.’

Maxine almost blurted out: ‘Take Janey, then, instead,’ though why she should bother to protect her gullible sister’s reputation from Guy she didn’t know. Instead, she said smoothly,

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone else to keep you company.’

‘I’m sure I will,’ Bruno replied good-naturedly. ‘It’s just that you were my first choice.’

‘What a shame you aren’t mine,’ Maxine retorted. ‘Goodbye.’

When she hung up, Guy lifted his head from the paper. Returning his gaze with pride, Maxine said, ‘There.’

‘Totally believable,’ he remarked dryly, shaking the last Jaffa cake out of the box. ‘The best piece of acting I’ve seen in years. Who were you talking to, the speaking clock?’

Chapter 23

Sunday mornings were funny creatures, Thea decided. Waking up alone on a Sunday morning, as far as she was concerned, was downright depressing. In the first months after the break-up of her marriage, she had spent each week dreading those few hideous hours above all others. Solitary Sunday mornings, like solitary Christmases, were the absolute pits.

And then there were the other kind .. .

‘What are you thinking?’ asked Oliver, leaning across and brushing a croissant flake from her cleavage.

Thea smiled at him. ‘That there really isn’t anything more wonderful than lying in bed on a Sunday with fresh croissants, lots of newspapers and a superb lover.’

‘Does that mean I trail in third?’ he protested. ‘Behind food and The Times?’

‘No.’ As she kissed his cheek, the newspapers crackled between them. ‘They’re nice but they aren’t crucial. Having you here is what makes it so wonderful.’ Her smile widening, she pushed back her long white hair. And of course there is the even more wonderful added bonus ...’

Oliver smirked. ‘That I’m a superb lover.’

‘Actually,’ said Thea, ‘it’s that you’re so good at crosswords.’ She chuckled in delight. It was the most gorgeous day but she didn’t even want to venture outside. Oliver was here with her and that was all that mattered.

Oliver, however, was still hungry. ‘If we’d stayed at the hotel we could have called room service,’ he grumbled.

Remembering to buy the croissants and a jar of black cherry jam had stretched Thea to the domestic limits. Never having been the type to keep a fridge bursting with cold roast chicken, smoked ham, good wine and strawberries, she knew with certainty that the only items currently in occupation were three opened jars of mayonnaise in various stages of senility, a Body Shop eye mask for hangovers, and a mango. But what the hell, she decided comfortably. I’m an artist.

I’m allowed to be a slob.

‘I don’t have any more food, we shall have to starve,’ she told Oliver, lifting her face to his for another kiss. ‘There, you see? A prime example of why I must never marry you. I’m hopeless in the kitchen. Within weeks you’d be a shadow of your handsome former self and screaming for a divorce.’

‘I would not!’ He looked astonished. ‘We’d have a housekeeper.’

‘To cater for our every whim?’ Thea mocked. ‘How exotic!’

‘I’m being serious. And meanwhile ...’ Picking up the phone beside the bed, he punched out the number of his hotel.

‘How marvellous,’ Thea sighed, when he had spoken to the restaurant manager and arranged for two three-course lunches to be sent over by taxi within the hour. ‘The power of the favoured customers.’

‘The power of money.’ Oliver dismissed it with a shrug. ‘It’s not such a big deal.’

‘It’s a big deal when it means you get to eat rack of lamb with fennel instead of dial-a-pizza,’ Thea said happily. She might not cook but she still adored exquisite food.

‘If you’re that easily impressed,’ Oliver retorted, ‘I don’t know why you won’t marry me.

Then you could eat whatever you liked, go wherever you liked ...’

As Thea sat up, the sheet dropped away, revealing her nakedness. Trailing the back of her hand across Oliver’s cheek, she felt the bristly soft texture of his moustache against her skin.

‘Don’t be cross with me,’ she chided, her tone gentle. ‘If I said yes, people would wonder if I’d married you for your money. I would wonder if I’d married you for your money! But this way it doesn’t matter, because I love you anyway. I’m already where I want to be and I’m doing exactly what I want to do. As far as I’m concerned, this is as perfect as it gets.’

Oliver was in the shower when the doorbell rang. Thea, only vaguely decent in an embroidered black silk robe which showed off her splendid bosom, and with her long white hair still hanging loose down her back, was padding barefoot around the kitchen in search of matching cutlery.

As she headed for the front door, her stomach rumbled. Lobster mousse, rack of lamb, fresh fruit salad and two bottles of Chardonnay were going to go down very well indeed. But three figures were silhouetted through the patterned glass and none of them appeared to be carrying trays of sumptuous food.

One outline was instantly recognizable, the other two were short. Thea groaned. It was too late to shrink back and pretend not to be at home. Whilst she hesitated, she heard a young girl enquire in high-pitched tones, ‘So if she’s your mother, does that mean she’s really old?’

‘Ancient,’ Maxine replied. ‘Over forty.’

Thea took a deep breath and opened the door. ‘But young at heart,’ she declared, praying that Oliver wouldn’t choose this moment to break into song upstairs. ‘Darling, how lovely to see you, but you really should have phoned. I’m in a tearing hurry, about to go out .. .

‘Just five minutes then.’ Since it hadn’t for a moment occurred to Maxine that she might not be welcome, she was already halfway through the door, ushering her two small charges into the hallway ahead of her. ‘Mum, this is Ella, and this is Josh, and am I glad you’re home. We’ve walked all the way from Trezale House and I forgot to bring any money with me. If you could lend me a fiver for cold drinks ...’

‘I’ll go and find my purse,’ said Thea, backing away. ‘Wait here.’

‘... and if Ella could just run upstairs and use the bathroom,’ Maxine went on, scarcely pausing for breath. ‘She’s had her legs crossed for the last twenty minutes. It’s been painful to watch.’

Damn, thought Thea, glancing down at the small blond girl whose knees were pressed tightly together. ‘Right, um ... give me a couple of minutes first.’

‘Is that the shower?’ Maxine, listening to the distant sound of running water, gave her mother an enquiring look. ‘Who’s upstairs?’

‘No one.’ Thea gathered her black robe around her and moved towards the staircase. ‘I was just about to jump in. I’ll go and turn it off.’

‘Out,’ she hissed moments later, grabbing Oliver’s soapy arm and dragging him out of the shower. ‘My daughter and your grandchildren are downstairs, waiting to use the loo. You’ll have to hide in the bedroom.’

‘Bloody hell!’ Shampoo cascaded down his face and chest, half blinding him. Stubbing his toe against the edge of the door he cursed once more beneath his breath as Thea pushed him naked on to the landing. ‘I knew we should have stayed at the hotel. How long are they here for?’

‘As long as it takes to pee.’ Thea, stifling laughter, steered him towards the bedroom.

‘Don’t worry I’ll get rid of them. Stay in here. And whatever you do, don’t sneeze.’

By the time she returned downstairs, Maxine and the children had moved into the front room. Maxine, glancing out of the window, said, ‘If you ordered a taxi to pick you up, it’s already here. Shall I go out and tell the driver he’ll have to wait?’

‘I’ll do it.’ Thea hurried towards the door but the taxi driver was already out of the car, reaching into the back seat and sliding out a vast wicker hamper.

‘Can I go to the bathroom now?’ cried Ella, frantic with need.

‘First left at the top of the stairs,’ Maxine replied absently, her gaze still fixed on the driver as he struggled up the path with the hamper. ‘Mum, what’s going on? Have you adopted a puppy?’

‘I’ve invited someone to dinner.’ Thea looked shamefaced. ‘He doesn’t know I can’t cook and I wanted to make a good impression so I ordered the food from a restaurant.’

‘Good heavens,’ said Maxine, because Thea had never worried about making a good impression before. ‘I hope he’s worth it.’

‘Don’t worry.’ Thea smiled to herself, because Oliver was worth millions. ‘He is.’

‘Do you know, Maxine, your mother wasn’t telling the truth?’ Josh remarked as they made their way back along the beach.

Maxine licked a blob of chocolate ice-cream from her wrist. ‘No?’

‘She hadn’t had a shower when we got there,’ he continued seriously, ‘and her hair was dry.

But when ‘I went up after Ella, there were wet footprints all along the landing and blobs of shampoo on the bathroom carpet.’

‘Gosh.’ Maxine looked shocked. ‘You mean—?’