‘Not as disgraceful as all that,’ Lysandros observed with a shrug. ‘I’ve done worse, I’m glad to say.’

‘And that was that,’ Stavros resumed. ‘The man put the pen down, cancelled the deal and walked out straight into your car, waiting outside. Rumour says Homer promised the gods on Olympus splendid offerings if only they would punish you.’

‘But I’ve remained unpunished, so perhaps the gods weren’t listening. They say he even uttered a curse over my wedding invitation. I hope he did.’

‘You’re really not taking anyone with you?’

Lysandros made a non-committal reply. He attended many weddings as a duty, sometimes with companions but never with one woman. It would interest the press too much, and send out misleading signals to the lady herself, which could cause him serious inconvenience.

‘Right, let’s get going,’ Stavros said.

‘I’m afraid I’ll have to catch you up later,’ Lysandros excused himself.

‘But you just said you’d go with me-’

‘Yes, but I’ve suddenly remembered something I must do first. Goodbye.’

There was a finality in the last word that Stavros dared not challenge.

His car was waiting downstairs. In the back sat his wife, who’d refused to come in with him on the grounds that she hated the desolate house that seemed to suit Lysandros so perfectly.

‘How can he bear to live in that vast, silent place with no family and only servants for company?’ she’d demanded more than once. ‘It makes me shiver. And that’s not the only thing about Lysandros that makes me shiver.’

In that, she knew she was not alone. Most of Athens would have agreed. Now, when Stavros had described the conversation, she said, ‘Why did he change his mind about coming with us?’

‘My fault. I stupidly mentioned the past, and he froze. It’s almost eerie the way he’s blotted that time out as though it never happened, yet it drives everything he does. Look at what happened just now. One minute he was fine, the next he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.’