She looked up at him and smiled. ‘What is it?’

‘I was wondering,’ he began, then paused. ‘Wondering whether you’d ever think about coming to live here – in Paris, I mean, not necessarily here in this flat.’ He hesitated. ‘It’s just that I miss you so much when you’re in England.’

She drew away from him, continuing to stare out of the window. She didn’t reply.

‘I’ve said the wrong thing, haven’t I?’

She turned back and reached for his hand. ‘No, you haven’t. You know I love being here with you. But it’s just… it’s such a big decision, Martin. I need to think about it.’

‘I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I did, Liz. I don’t want it to spoil our weekend.’

‘I don’t want to forget about it, Martin. I just need to think about it.’

He put his arms round her again and kissed her. ‘I want you to be here all the time, that’s why I brought it up. But I know it’s selfish of me. There are other things in life that are important to you – believe me, I do understand that.’

She leaned her head against his chest. ‘There’s no other person more important to me than you are.’

He let her go and took hold of her hand. ‘Come on,’ he said with a laugh, ‘don’t let’s get too serious. I think it’s time for bed, don’t you?’

Chapter 2

As daylight broke over the Indian Ocean, spilling light the colour of chalk on the distant horizon, Captain Jean-Claude Thibault watched the outline of the huge ship emerge slowly from the darkness. He’d known she was there, just three kilometres away across the calm waters of the Indian Ocean, but now he could see her clearly. Indeed she was impossible to miss: a container vessel, probably four hundred feet long, painted a rich maroon with a yellow stripe at her plimsoll line just above the water. Fully laden, she was low in the water as she ploughed through the sea, heading south.