‘Thank you, but I’d rather stay here.’

‘No, you wouldn’t. You don’t want to be on your own in this empty place that’s much too big for you.’

‘Ben insisted on a huge suite,’ she said instinctively.

‘So I’d have expected. He had to show off, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, but-I won’t discuss him with you. He’s dead. Let that be an end.’

‘But death is never really the end,’ he pointed out. ‘Not for those left behind. Don’t stay here alone. Come out with me and say all the things you couldn’t say to anyone else. You’ll feel better for it.’

Suddenly she longed to do as he suggested. After today she need never see him again, and in that was a kind of freedom.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘Why not? Yes, I’ll come,’ she repeated, as though trying to convince herself.

‘You’d better change out of that black first.’

She’d been going to do just that, but again his cool way of dictating to her made her rebellious.

‘Don’t give me orders.’

‘I’m not. I’m only suggesting what you want to do anyway,’ he said, assuming a reasonable air that was almost as amusing as it was annoying.

It was an act. Nothing about this man was reasonable.

‘Indeed? And have you any “suggestions” for what I should wear?’

‘Something outrageous.’

‘I don’t do “outrageous”.’

‘You should. A woman with your face and figure can be as outrageous as she likes, and it’s her duty to make use of her gifts. Because I’m sure Ben would have preferred that. I’ll bet money that somewhere in your wardrobe there’s a “flaunt” dress that he wanted people to see you in, with him,’ Vincente said with confidence.

‘But Ben isn’t here. And if I go out with you people will say, “She’s wearing that when she’s just buried him?’’’

‘So let them call you scandalous. What do you care?’

‘I ought to care,’ she said, trying to conceal how shockingly tempting was the picture.

‘But you don’t. Perhaps you never did. This is no time to start.’