‘If it’s essential,’ she added, heart sinking. Because he didn’t.

Or comment on what was, or was not, essential.

‘What is your name?’ he asked.

‘Oh, you needn’t worry about that,’ she assured him, affecting an airy carelessness. ‘The office will know who I am.’

When he made his complaint.

She wasn’t even going to last out the day. Sadie would kill her. Sadie had every right…

‘Your office might,’ he said, ‘but I don’t.’

Busted. This was a man who left nothing to chance.

‘Metcalfe, sir.’

‘Metcalfe.’ He looked as if he might have something to say about that, but must have thought better of it because he let it go. ‘Well, Metcalfe, shall we make a move? Time is short and now we’re going to have to make a detour unless the birthday girl is to be disappointed.’

‘Birthday girl?’

Didn’t he know that it was seriously unPC to refer to a woman as a ‘girl’ these days?

‘Princess Ameerah, my cousin’s daughter, is ten years old today. Her heart’s desire, apparently, is for a glass snow globe. I promised her she would have one.’

‘Oh.’ A little girl…Then, forgetting that she was supposed to only speak when she was spoken to, ‘They are lovely. I’ve still got one that I was given when I was…’

She stopped. Why on earth would he care?

‘When you were?’

‘Um, six.’

‘I see.’ He looked at her as if trying to imagine her as a child. Apparently failing, he said, ‘This one was old too. An antique, in fact. Venetian glass.’

‘For a ten-year-old?’ The words were out before she could stop them. On the point of stepping into the car, he paused and frowned. ‘I mean, glass. Was that wise?’ She had the feeling that no one had ever questioned his judgement before and, trying to salvage something, she said, ‘Mine is made from some sort of polymer resin.’ It had come from a stall at the local market. ‘Not precious…’ except to her ‘…but it would have, um, bounced.’