She was tall for a woman, with long legs, a long neck and cleanly chiselled features. Her black hair was naturally luxuriant, but she wore it smoothed back against her head and twined into sleek braids behind.

In this she was illogical. The sensible thing would be to cut it off in a neat, boyish crop. But for once she couldn’t make herself do the sensible thing. She wasn’t sure why.

Her eyes were also dark, lustrous, with depths where humour still lurked occasionally, although she did her best to conceal it. She was a perfectly groomed creation, crafted to her own meticulous design.

In only one thing had she failed to achieve her own standards. At heart she knew that part of her was still the same girl she’d once been, the one she was trying to deny. That girl had been full of trust and eagerness, without a calculating bone in her body. She hadn’t merely loved her husband, she’d worshipped him blindly. She’d also possessed a temper and an unruly tongue, which sometimes spoke before her mind was in gear.

All these things she’d striven to put right, and had mostly succeeded. Occasionally she was still betrayed by anger into rash speech, but she was working on that too.

Today was going to put all her skill to the test.

‘Do you know who’s going to turn up to look us over?’ Sara asked.

‘Probably Primo Rinucci. I’ve tried to research the firm on-line but there isn’t much. There’s two partners, Enrico Leonate and Primo Rinucci. I managed to find Leonate’s picture on-line, but unfortunately there was no picture for Rinucci.’

‘What does Signor Leonate look like?’

‘Dull, middle-aged. Let’s hope Primo Rinucci isn’t the same.’

But even as she spoke Olympia was giving Sara a worried look.

‘You’re not well,’ she said.

‘I’ll be fine in a minute.’