‘Lucky you,’ said Rupert Henriques. ‘I wish I were an orphan — all fun and no fear.’

He had a droll way of rattling off these remarks which made them quite inoffensive. All the same, she thought, he’s a spoilt little boy. He could be quite relentless if he chose.

He picked up his drink. ‘You were even better than usual tonight.’

‘Don’t you get bored seeing the same play night after night?’

He grinned. ‘I’m glad it’s not a Whitehall farce. You’re the only reason I’ve been so many times.’

There was a knock on the door.

‘Hell,’ he said. ‘Do we have to answer it?’

It was Queenie.

‘I won’t be a minute,’ Bella said to her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added to Rupert, ‘I shall have to change.’

He drained his glass, got up and moved towards the door.

‘I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me one evening next week,’ he said.

It’s Monday now, thought Bella. He can’t be that keen if he can wait at least a week to see me!

‘I’m very tied up,’ she said, untruthfully.

‘Tuesday?’ he said.

‘I’m working that night.’

‘Wednesday then?’

She paused just long enough to get him worried, then smiled: ‘All right, I’d like to.’

‘I don’t suppose you like opera.’

‘I adore it,’ lied Bella, determined to keep her end up.

‘Great. There’s a first night of Siegfried next Wednesday. I’ll try and get tickets.’

As he left he said, ‘I’m sorry I had to make your acquaintance in this rather gauche fashion, but I didn’t know anyone who knew you, who could have introduced us, and the only other alternative would have been to have bought the theatre.’

It was only later that she discovered he was only half-joking. The Henriques family could have bought every theatre in London without batting an eyelid.