‘Do you get breathless more often than you used to?’ he asked.

Hetta nodded and made a face. ‘It’s a pig.’

‘I’m sure it is. I expect there’s lots you can’t do.’

‘Heaps and heaps,’ she said, sensing a sympathetic ear. ‘I want a dog, but Mummy says it would be too bois-something.’

‘Too boisterous,’ Andrew agreed.

‘Hetta, that’s not really the reason,’ Elinor protested. ‘We can’t have pets in that little room.’

‘You live in one room?’ Andrew asked.

‘In a boarding house. It’s just a bit tiny, but everyone’s fond of Hetta and kind to her.’

‘Do you smoke?’

‘No. I never did, but I wouldn’t do it around Hetta.’

‘Good. What about the other tenants?’

‘Mr Jenson smokes like a chimney,’ Hetta confided. ‘Daisy’s very cross with him.’

‘Tell me about the others.’

Man and child became absorbed in their talk, giving Elinor the opportunity to watch him, and note the changes of twelve years.

He had always been a tall man, slightly too thin for his height. Now that he’d filled out he was imposing. Perhaps his face had grown sharper, his chin a little more forceful, but he still had a thick shock of dark hair with no sign of thinning. At thirty-eight he was the essence of power and success, exactly as he’d always meant to be.

At last he said, ‘Hetta, do you know the play area just along the corridor?’

‘Mmm! They’ve got a rabbit,’ she said wistfully.

‘Would you like to go along and see the rabbit now?’

Hetta nodded and left the room as eagerly as her constant weariness would allow.

‘Is there anyone to help you with her?’ Andrew asked. ‘Family?’

‘My parents are both dead. Daisy helps me a lot. She’s the landlady, and like a second mother to me. She cares for Hetta when I’m out working.’

‘Is your job very demanding?’

‘I’m a freelance beautician. I go into people’s homes to do their hair, nails and make-up. It has the advantage that I can make my own hours.’