‘You mean about-everything?’

Evie gave her a speaking look.

‘One day,’ Debra said, exasperated, ‘I hope you’ll fall hook, line and sinker for a man you can’t have.’

‘Why?’ Evie asked, honestly baffled.

‘It’ll be a new experience for you.’

Evie chuckled. It was the happy, confident laugh of someone who had life ‘sussed’. She had her job, translating books from French and Italian into English. She was free to travel and did so, often. She had all the male company she wanted, and female company too for, unlike many women who attracted love easily, she also had a gift for friendship with her own sex.

It wasn’t immediately clear why people were drawn to her. Her face was charming but not outstandingly beautiful. Her nose tilted a little too much and her eyebrows were rather too heavy, adding a touch of drama to her otherwise perky features.

Perhaps it was something in the richness of her laugh, the way her face could light up as though the sun had risen, her air of having discovered a secret that she would gladly share with anyone who would laugh with her.

‘Time I was going,’ she said now. ‘Sorry I couldn’t help you, Deb.’

They strolled to the car park, where Debra got into her sedate saloon and Evie hopped on to her gleaming motorbike, settling the helmet on her head. A wave of her hand, and she was away.

She enjoyed riding through this pleasant suburb of outer London. Speed was fun, but dawdling through leafy roads was also fun.

Then she saw Mark Dane.

She recognised him from behind. It wasn’t just the dark brown hair with the hint of russet. It was the fact that he was walking with his head down in a kind of dispirited slouch that, she now realised, she’d seen often before.

Mark had a bright, quick intelligence that pleased her. In class he was often the first to answer, the words tumbling over each other, sometimes at the expense of accuracy.