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‘Yes, I’ve got some things to discuss with Charles anyway . . . that way I can give you a hug, my dear.’ He chuckled gently. ‘And Alexandra?’

‘Yes?’

‘Don’t mention this call or me coming up to my son, do you mind?’

‘Why ever not?’ Alarms chimed distantly in her mind.

‘I’d like to surprise him. Er, we’ve had a bit of a spat, you see. I’d hoped to talk it out, man to man, down in London, without his mother fussing around. I think he might head off if he knew I was coming.’

‘Oh, gosh, Chetwin. I’m sorry to hear this. Nothing too serious, I hope?’

‘Don’t you bother your pretty head with it, darling. Just a difference of opinion on business stuff. You know, the lion and the cub locking horns.’

She found a chuckle.

‘Yes, I realise I got my metaphors mixed up there, my dear, but you get my drift, don’t you? I promised his mother I’d smooth things over.’

‘Of course. I won’t say anything. I don’t even know when I’ll next see him, to be honest.’

‘I’ll see you soon. Big hugs from everyone here.’

She blinked as the line went dead. How odd that conversation was. Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrill sound of the doorbell. That was fast. She hadn’t expected Matthew home for hours and he’d likely forgotten his keys . . . again. She waited, heard Norma answering the door, followed by footsteps across the hall. Her belly clenched in anticipation. She wasn’t going to argue with him again. Life would go easier on her if she simply accepted her lot, which was all her own making, and made the best of what most would consider an excellent life.

When the door opened she was surprised to see the housekeeper again. Her lips were not only pursed but also frowning with disapproval this time.

‘Yes, Norma?’

‘It’s your gentleman caller. Mr Blakeney.’

Alex’s heart felt as though it bounced on a trapeze wire at the mention of his name. She cleared her throat. ‘Er, please show him through,’ she replied, trying to sound slightly irritated by the interruption.

‘He says he’d rather not come in as he has a train to catch – he has his small suitcase with him. He wonders if he might have a quick word. Said he wished to say farewell and thank you for your help.’

She stood quickly. ‘Yes, of course.’ Now it felt as though her heart was sinking into gloom. How had she created such a mess of her life? Alex took a deep breath and pasted on a smile for the benefit of the housekeeper. ‘I’ll be right out. Please at least show him in from the doorstep.’

Alex felt her body sag. She deliberately lifted her shoulders and then dropped them, breathing deeply. Come on, Alex, she berated. Be strong! She moved to the door with purpose, determined not to hesitate, not to weep, not to let herself down. Opening the door, she saw him, his back to her as he admired a painting in the lobby. She felt a prickle of yearning overlay her soft happiness that he found that particular artwork interesting.

He turned at the sound of her footfall. ‘Alex.’

She glanced to her right, where she suspected Norma lurked, probably listening; didn’t all housekeepers?

‘Good evening,’ he said, picking up on her warning. ‘Thank you for seeing me. I wanted to wish you and your husband farewell. I was glad to meet him today.’

‘Thank you. Won’t you come in . . . a warming drink or . . .?’

He glanced at the suitcase. ‘No. I won’t hold you up.’ He looked back at the painting. ‘This is lovely.’

‘My favourite piece in the house, and not just because my father painted it.’

He gave her a look of surprise.

‘It’s the view from our home in Argyllshire, just outside Inveraray. He’s not bad, is he?’

‘I’d hang that anywhere in my house, enjoy looking at it every day. Makes me feel . . .’ He searched for the right description.

‘Say it,’ she urged, desperate to hear his view.

‘Safe.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, as though I’d never need to look for anywhere else.’