‘Octavia, you are dreadful; it’s Gussie here,’ came the breathless, eager voice.

‘Gussie, how lovely!’

‘I thought I’d ring straightaway, before we lost touch.’

‘You must come to dinner,’ I said.

‘We’d love to, but actually we’ve got a plan. Are you doing anything the weekend after next?’

‘I’m supposed to be going to France, but it’s a fluid arrangement.’

‘Well, I expect you’d find it awfully boring, but Jeremy shares a boat with another chap, and we’ve got it next weekend. We wondered if you’d like to come too.’

‘I might get seasick,’ I said, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice.

‘Oh you couldn’t! It’s a barge, and all we do is drift up and down the canals, going through the locks and tying up where it takes our fancy. Would you like to bring Charlie?’

‘He’ll be away,’ I lied. ‘It’s not a big thing, Charlie and me, we’re just mates.’

‘You haven’t got someone special you’d like to bring?’

‘I did have. We were going to get married, but he was killed in a car crash earlier this year.’

‘Oh, poor, poor Tavy,’ she said, unconsciously lapsing into the nickname of schooldays. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry.’

There was a pause.

‘Well, anyway,’ she floundered on. ‘If you didn’t want to bring someone, Jeremy had thought. . do you know Gareth Llewellyn?’

‘No, should I? The name sounds faintly familiar.’

‘He’s a great friend of Jeremy’s. We’ve been trying to persuade him to come on the boat for ages, but he works so hard, he can never get away. I think you’d like him; he’s awfully attractive.’

I didn’t care if he were. My mind was already jumping ahead, dreaming of a long weekend, drifting up and down the canals, lounging on the deck in my bikini by day, my hair gleaming pale in the moonlight by night — how could I not hook Jeremy?