Guy Blackman was slightly late in the morning; I’d already had time to get nervous about the whole business. Barbara sat with me and kept up a light conversation about music, revealing that the only reason she knew Sergeant Pepper at all was that Sally had played it to her, and the line in ‘Getting Better’ about teachers had stuck with her because of her own past. I was grateful for her efforts to distract me, even if I wasn’t sure what I was worrying about; perhaps it was the thought of being presented to Caro’s father as a possible direction for her future.

When he arrived Guy seemed slightly hung over; he was unshaven and a little pale-looking. I’d half-expected Caro to come with him; he seemed to sense this and explained she was at home to pacify their father.

‘He sounds like a hard character to please – your father,’ I remarked as we got into the car. I waved to Barbara, who was standing on the step.

‘Not really – he’s just strangely fond of his brood of black sheep. We don’t see that much of each other – he likes to have us around.’ The car pulled rapidly away from the kerb. Guy’s hands moved carelessly on the wheel; he was clearly an expert driver. ‘Anyway, if Caro had come she’d have wanted to drive. I’m not ready to die yet; I’ve got a trip to the Middle East planned for next spring.’

I hadn’t heard Caro say anything about her mother; I didn’t know what was happening there so I decided to pursue a safer subject. ‘Can Caro drive?’

‘She thinks she can. Personally, if she ever took the test I think she’d come out of it with a pilot’s licence.’

That seemed to exhaust that subject, so I asked him exactly where he was going on his trip.

‘Oh, all around. Egypt, Turkey, Israel – maybe some of the Arab States.’

‘Couldn’t it be a bit risky? I mean, what if they have another six-day war?’

He gave the kind of look I’d come to recognise from Caro, which meant I was being naïve. ‘Things have settled down a bit now. I don’t plan to be there for the anniversary of the conflict...’

We talked a bit about some of his other travels – trips to Europe and the States, and a short stop in South Africa, accompanying his father. He kept mentioning someone called David as if I should know something about him, so eventually I was forced to ask. He gave me a swift, serious glance, then smiled to himself.

‘Oh, didn’t she tell you? He’s my boyfriend.’

For a minute I thought I’d misheard. Then I felt stupid again, although there was no reason why I should have guessed. Guy’s dress was actually pretty conservative; Quentin Crisp he wasn’t. After a few moments he said: ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to pull over and start mauling you.’

‘Oh…no, I didn’t think you would. It was a bit of a surprise, that’s all.’

He grunted. ‘I can see why she likes you. Most chaps seem to think you want to jump them at the first opportunity. I guess they consider themselves irresistible – or think we’re all desperate.’

‘Honestly, I hadn’t really considered it.’

He opened his mouth, then shut it again and gave me an odd look, smiling slightly. Then he said: ‘Caro tells me you want to write.’

I gave him my stock response – the same one I gave Barbara. He nodded, but said: ‘Yeah, but she says you’re not writing at the moment, as far as she can tell. If you either are or you aren’t what does that make you?’

‘Your family believes in directness, doesn’t it?’

He laughed. ‘Saves time.’

‘Well, if I’m to avoid too many more straight questions I’d better get writing, hadn’t I?’

‘What do you write? She said – sci fi?’

‘Something like that – but the only idea I’ve got at the moment isn’t working. I’ll have to look elsewhere for inspiration.’

‘Why not write about the real world? What’s the attraction of spaceships and bug-eyed monsters?’

It was that same question several people had asked me in various forms. ‘I don’t have a good answer to that. Maybe, psychologically speaking, monsters and the like are metaphors for more earthly problems – but that kind of bullshit aside, I prefer it because I don’t have to do research. I can create a whole world as I go along.’

He glanced at me. ‘You’ll forgive me if that sounds a bit lazy.’

‘Maybe it is. The fact is I’m not comfortable writing ordinary fiction – it comes out flat and boring. I don’t see the point in struggling to master something that holds no appeal for me anyway.’

‘Fair enough.’ His eyes flicked towards me again. ‘But just a word of advice; do something, soon. Caro admires hard work and she hates waste.’

‘Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.’

We drove for a while in silence. Guy put on the radio; we came in halfway through ‘I Am The Walrus’. ‘Looking forward to that tonight?’ Guy asked me.

‘Should be interesting.’

‘From what I was hearing from Patti, the filming was a bit disorganised. When I last spoke to her she wasn’t sure how it would come out.’

‘George didn’t seem to know, either,’ I couldn’t resist saying.

‘Yeah.’ He was silent for a second. ‘It was a real shame about Brian. Sounds like they miss him more than they thought they would.’

For a moment I thought he was talking about the Brian I had known – the singer Caro had replaced. Then I realised he meant Brian Epstein. I gave a sort of assenting murmur, then gathered up my courage and said: ‘Has Caro told you much about the group?’

‘The band with no name? No; she won’t let me come to the rehearsals at the moment – says I’d be ashamed of her. They’ve got potential, she reckons, but she’s worried about one of them…’

‘Rob?’

‘He the guitarist?’

‘That’s him.’

‘Yeah. He’s a total pain, I gather. Lots of ideas, but no capacity for listening to other people’s brainwaves. Caro thinks there could be trouble there, I gather.’

‘It’s already happened.’

I told him about Dennis’ call, the effort I’d persuaded him to make, and the fact that I was keeping it from Caro until I heard something more definite. Guy clicked his tongue for a few seconds, then said: ‘Well, she won’t shed too many tears either way. She’s adaptable like that.’

‘So you think I should tell her now?’

He expelled a long breath. ‘Up to you. She does like things up front, direct. But then you’ve already kept it from her for a couple of days.’ He shrugged and glanced at me. ‘I don’t think it’ll matter, in the end – not to her. Just be ready for a small explosion if she finds out you knew and didn’t tell her.’

‘I think that makes up my mind. I’ll try to find a moment to tell her today.’

He grinned.

We drove on mostly without speaking, listening to the radio. Occasionally Guy would make a comment about a member of whichever group was playing; he seemed to know about half of the chart acts personally. But he spoke without appearing to show off; I got the impression he was just being polite, assuming I’d be interested in the information.

We left London behind. Guy seemed to know the roads very well; he left the ring road at what appeared to be the earliest opportunity and took a series of tiny lanes until we shot out onto a main road again and shortly afterwards pulled into the drive of something that could only be described as a mansion. I was still taking it in when the massive front door opened and Caro came skipping down the steps.

‘Better show the requisite enthusiasm, old chap,’ said Guy. ‘Get out and let yourself be greeted.’

I obeyed. Caro embraced me with even more ardour than she had the previous day. When she disengaged herself she said: ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t come. Don’t know why. I’m glad you’re here.’

That much had been obvious. ‘I’m glad to be here.’

‘How d’you like the Jaguar?’

‘The what?’

She gestured behind me. ‘Guy’s car.’

I looked at it. ‘Oh…is that what it is?’ I turned back to her, aware of Guy moving towards the boot. ‘Sorry, I don’t know anything about cars. I wouldn’t even recognise a Rolls if it ran over me.’

‘Not a Lady Penelope fan, then.’ She took my arm and led me up into the house. Guy came behind us, uncomplainingly carrying my bag – Caro had said I might have to stay overnight, so I’d prepared accordingly. When we got into the massive hall, Guy lifted the bag slightly. ‘I’ll take this up to the room they’ve given you. Caro can show you where it is later.’

He went up the broad staircase. An impeccably attired servant came to stand behind me; it was moment before I realised he wanted my coat. I slipped it off and Caro took my arm again. ‘Come on; Daddy’s dying to meet you.’

I took a deep breath.

Caro piloted me along the passage and around a couple of corners, until we came to a polished wooden door that looked to me exactly like several others we had passed. Caro knocked once and then, without waiting for an answer, pulled me inside.

We entered what I assumed must be a study, although it was also a small library. It was panelled in wood, with the books behind glass doors and even a small balcony that ran around the room just above head height.

A man stepped from behind the large, tidy desk. He was smaller than I expected, having none of Guy’s build, although I could see where both of his children had got their looks and their perfectly black hair. His dark brown eyes looked me over without expression, but after a moment sensual lips parted in a smile. ‘You must be Conrad. I’m Robert Blackman. I’m extremely pleased to meet you.’ He extended his hand, which I had enough presence of mind to shake firmly.

‘Pleased to meet you…sir.’

Caro giggled slightly and Robert Blackman smiled as he perched himself on the edge of his desk and took out a shining cigarette case. ‘Please…we’re not in America. My name is Robert – or Mr Blackman if you’re that terrified of me.’ He offered me the open case, and lifted his eyebrows slightly when I shook my head. ‘At least you won’t be a bad influence on Caroline in that direction.’ He tucked away the case and produced a lighter; his eyes were on his daughter as he lit the cigarette. ‘Though I dare say I should be relieved if these were all she smoked.’

‘Don’t tease me,’ said Caro with a mock pout. ‘At least I never bring that stuff here.’

‘Yes, well – one must be grateful for small mercies.’ Blackman gestured vaguely into the air. ‘Conrad, you must treat this house as your home. There are no locked doors, although I would ask you not to wander too far in case we have to send out a search party.’ He smiled briefly, and glanced at his watch. ‘A light buffet lunch will be served at one o’clock, in the dining room. Please help yourself – I’m sure Caroline will be your guide in these matters, anyway. I have one or two things to attend to, so you must excuse me.’ He smiled again, and touched me briefly on the upper arm. ‘Let me repeat – do make yourself at home.’

He went towards the door, then paused and turned. He gestured at the surrounding walls. ‘I’m told you’re something of a writer. You might like to have a look around here. But take care – one or two of them are quite valuable.’

And with that he closed the door and left us alone. Caro looked at me, her eyes shining. ‘He’s all right, isn’t he?’

‘He’s very all right. I was rather nervous about that meeting.’

She came up to me and put her arms around my waist, resting her head on my shoulder. ‘So – do you want to look around in here?’

I let my eyes roam around the shelves. ‘Well, as he invited me…I’d feel a bit as if I was spurning his generosity if I just ignored it all.’

‘All right.’ If she was disappointed she hid it well. ‘Where do you want to start?’

‘D’you know what’s where?’

She laughed. ‘No idea at all.’

‘In that case I’ll head for the nearest shelf and work my way around.’

I spent over an hour in there. A lot of the stuff looked so old and valuable I hardly dared touch it; complete leather-bound sets of Scott, Balzac – in French – and Dickens that must have been from the last century, several editions of Wilde, including a few that looked like firsts, one inscribed, numerous volumes of Whitman…coming closer to the present there was a set of first editions of E. M. Forster, all personally inscribed to Blackman himself – and one I didn’t know at all, called Maurice, which seemed to be a hand-written transcription of an entire novel. I showed it to Caro. ‘What is this?’

‘Oh, that. Something Forster didn’t want published, at least not in his lifetime. But Daddy persuaded him to let him have a copy made.’

‘Amazing.’ I slotted the book back. There had been a long inscription, but after reading the first couple of lines I had felt I was intruding on something.

After a while I started skimming, realising I wouldn’t have time to examine everything that interested me. The next thing that caught my eye was a complete set of Wells, of which a few volumes seemed to have been read regularly. As I looked at the titles I felt an odd sensation somewhere along the length of my spine.

The Time Machine; First Men In The Moon; War of the Worlds.

I looked at Caro; she was seated in the big leather chair, doodling on a small pad that lay on the desk.

‘Does only your Dad read these?’

She looked up, seeming surprised. ‘Um…yeah. I’ve borrowed one or two, and I think Guy’s got some of the Whitman stuff in his room, but…yeah, this is Daddy’s den. Why?’

‘Did you know he read this stuff?’ The Wells set looked less expensive than some of the others, so I had fewer qualms about handling them. I pulled out the three titles that showed signs of wear, and put them on the desk with their spines towards Caro.

She read the titles and lifted her eyebrows. Then she looked at me. ‘No…that’s funny. I had no idea he was into that kind of thing.’

I looked at her for a moment. ‘Are you sure?’

My tone alerted her to something of what I was feeling. She sat up straight. ‘What’s the matter?’ Then she understood. ‘What – you think I’ve been telling him all about Barbara, or something? And he’s invited you here to pick your brains about it? Get real..!’ She sat back, pushing the pad away from her. ‘You think I’d do something like that without asking you? And you reckon my father’d be crazy enough to believe those stories on second-hand evidence? God, isn’t he allowed to be just interested in the idea? What’s the matter with you?’

She had been growing progressively angrier, and I had retreated a couple of steps. My face was burning.

‘Look…I’m sorry. I really am. For a moment it…it just seemed too much of a coincidence. I mean, it was the last thing I expected – your Dad’s meant to be the last word in hard-headed businessmen, remember? He’s not the sort of person…’ I trailed off, seeing her face still dark with anger. ‘Ohh, please. I’m really, really sorry. Okay, it was stupid. But it was such a surprise.’ I went closer to her.

She looked up at me, sucking the inside of her mouth. Then she relaxed. ‘All right. Apology accepted. Just remember – I don’t betray confidences, and I don’t do things behind people’s backs.’

I nodded, but then something struck me. ‘Even if you were rather backward in telling me about all this.’ I spread my arms.

She looked suitably contrite. ‘Sorry. But you don’t know what it’s like; the number of blokes I’ve had all over me because of the fucking money. I wanted to be sure about you. I am sorry – but I had to know.’

‘Okay.’ I leaned across the desk and puckered my lips. She took the cue and knelt up in the chair, supporting herself with one hand while she pulled my face to hers with the other.

When we parted she grinned at me. ‘What d’you think of giving these old walls something to whisper about?’

‘I think,’ I said slowly, ‘that I’m not that confident of your father’s hospitality just yet.’

The dining room was huge, almost a small hall. The food, piles and piles of it, was laid out on very expensive looking plates along the length of a narrow table. We helped ourselves; there were a couple of servants present but their main function seemed to be to identify any dishes the guests weren’t certain of. Blackman appeared towards the end of the lunch, and seemingly not to eat. There were several guests, and he went amongst them, talking briefly to each one. I was surprised to find both Vee and Roxie present.

‘I thought you were allowed a guest,’ I said to Caro.

She nodded. ‘They’re Guy’s friends – he knew them first. And we couldn’t invite one without the other.’

‘But doesn’t your Dad mind…’ I stopped myself as I thought about Guy. ‘He knows about Guy?’

Caro shook her head very slowly, but it was a response to me rather than to my question. ‘Sometimes you’re hopeless. Guy only invited those two because David’s in the States. And as for Daddy minding…’ She made a half-amused, half-exasperated sound.

It fell into place. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. But then I realised why I hadn’t guessed straight away. ‘But….you…and Guy…your Dad was married…’

‘He made a mistake,’ she said quietly. ‘It happens.’

I decided this was the time to be bold. ‘So…where’s your Mum?’

Caro bit her lip. ‘She died having me.’

‘Oh.’ For a moment I couldn’t think. ‘Oh…so they didn’t…separate..?’

She gave me that look. ‘Obviously. But when she died, Daddy felt he could stop pretending – stop trying to be something he wasn’t.’ She looked around and indicated a tall, blond American who’d been introduced to me as an actor, although his wasn’t a face I knew. ‘Ross…helped Daddy to get over my mother’s death…helped him to…well, find himself.’

I tried to read her face. ‘Look, perhaps I shouldn’t be asking about this. Maybe it’s hard for you to talk about. I’m sorry.’

She shrugged. ‘It was all a long time ago – and I never knew her. Even Guy barely remembers her.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated.

Blackman came up to me. ‘Conrad – how are you finding it? Did you enjoy the library?’

I felt as if I was about to blush. ‘It’s incredible. There must be a fortune in there.’

He nodded, and pulled out his cigarette case again. ‘Sadly, I’ve read very little of it. The nature of my work, you see – there’s always something more to be done, a new challenge to be taken up. I seem to keep going back to childhood favourites.’

‘The H. G. Wells?’

‘That’s right. Have you read them?’

‘I…read The Time Machine. War of the Worlds defeated me – for some reason I found it boring. I could never get past the hatch unscrewing.’

‘That’s a pity. I never found them difficult – I read them for relaxation.’ He grinned, with a touch of wickedness. ‘I must admit I rather like getting them out during breaks in meetings, just to see the looks on my board members’ faces.’

I smiled in response. ‘Do they ever say anything?’

‘It’s interesting. Nearly all of them have read one or the other. They enjoy them, as children. Then they leave them behind – somehow they’re not considered to be grown-up books. Whatever that means.’ He shook his head. ‘But then I must admit I never read any of the more recent science fiction. Except for Stapledon, of course. Have you read him?’

‘I read Last And First Men.’

‘And what did you think?’

‘It’s…unique. Incredible scope, and imagination.’

‘A real grasp of the vastness of Time and Space, yes. But you should read Starmaker. It is to Last and First Men what The Lord of the Rings is to The Hobbit.’

The comparison surprised me. ‘You’ve read them?’

‘They were recommended to me,’ he glanced at Caro, ‘over the objections of some members of my immediate family. I did find them a little jejune in places, but there was no denying the power of the imagination at work. Ah, but,’ he waved his unlit cigarette at me, ‘Stapledon is the one you must read. What vision! It makes one feel very, very small. This tiny planet, in a vast universe – how can we believe that we are alone? And yet, in contrast, how can we believe that there is a God who has some grand plan for such an insignificant species on a dot in the middle of such emptiness? All our attempts to find meaning and purpose in human life…the cosmos must be laughing at us.’

The actor, Ross, stepped in with a lighter and applied it to the end of Blackman’s cigarette. ‘You should talk to Ockenden,’ he said in a deep drawl. ‘He’s gonna split without closing if you ignore him much longer.’

Blackman shrugged at me. ‘The cosmos will have to wait; the voice of Mammon rules here.’ He inclined his head to me and moved away.

‘I’ve never heard him talk like that before,’ mused Caro as she watched him start an earnest conversation with a middle-aged man at the other end of the table. ‘I didn’t realise he felt so passionately about all that. It’s…nice to hear him so enthusiastic. Sometimes he worries me; he can seem so…’ She couldn’t finish the sentence.

‘Maybe you should have spoken to him about Barbara,’ I said lightly. ‘Seems like he might be quite receptive.’ I looked around. ‘Can you show me where my room is, now?’

She gave me a sly look. ‘It has a double bed – how much do you want me to show you?’

‘Actually, I need to talk to you about something.’

Her curiosity was piqued. We went up the staircase, onto a long landing, then up another, smaller set of stairs. She opened a door and pushed it back, indicating that I should enter.

I went into a room that must have covered the entire floor area of Mrs Muller’s house. It was laid out like an expensive hotel suite; a sink, another door labelled ‘Bathroom’, and even a dressing gown hanging ready. My bag was on the floor beside the vast bed.

Caro ran past me and threw herself onto the bed. She stretched out her arms to me. I went over slowly, not wanting to lose myself in the moment until I’d said what needed to be said. It was difficult; her eyes were bright and welcoming. Her behaviour had been distinctly kittenish for much of the time; I wondered if this was the effect being at home had on her.

I lowered myself slowly, facing her but a couple of feet away. She reached out and grabbed my hand, but looked at my face and did nothing more.

I told her about Rob’s ultimatum and my reasons for keeping quiet until now. She took it all in silence, but after a few moments she released my hand and rolled onto her back. When I had finished she said nothing for a few moments.

‘Prick,’ she muttered eventually. ‘Him, not you. I’m glad you told me. I can adjust my plans accordingly.’

‘Uh – what d’you mean?’

She looked at me seriously. ‘Did Guy mention his Middle East trip?’

‘Yyyes…’ I was afraid I knew what was coming, but I hoped I was wrong.

‘Well, I can tell him to book an extra ticket.’

‘Not a very friendly place for a girl, that part of the world,’ was the first objection I could think of.

‘I’m not scared. It’ll be an adventure. Hey, didn’t Barbara say she’d landed once during the Crusades? I could check out some of the places she visited.’ She sat up.

I decided to be honest. ‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘Who put you in charge of my life?’

I shifted closer and took her hand. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I’m not sure I want to be apart from you for…how long will the trip be?’

‘About three weeks, probably. P’raps a bit longer.’ She wrapped both of her hands around my hand and lifted it, staring into my eyes. ‘You could come with us.’

‘I don’t have that kind of money.’

She made a dismissive sound. ‘Daddy could pay, or Guy could – it wouldn’t make any difference to them. Or I could foot the bill, if you could cope with being a kept man for the duration.’

‘I don’t think I could do that.’

‘Why not? Listen, you wouldn’t believe how much money there is around here. Plane tickets would be nothing – trust me. I’ve seen Daddy spend more on Ross in five minutes.’

‘It’s not that, really, it’s…’ I couldn’t pinpoint why it was. Or I didn’t want to.

She leaned close to me, almost whispering. ‘What are you scared of?’

Her eyes were that incredible blue again. I couldn’t lie to her. ‘Practically everything.’ I saw the slight shock in her eyes and felt I had to qualify the remark, try to restore her opinion of me. ‘I’ve never wanted to travel – it holds absolutely no interest for me. I’ve never felt it justifies the money, or the risk – I mean, what about poisonous animals and terrorists and wars? It’s…it’s just too big a jump for me at the moment.’

She sat back a little, watching me.

‘Anyway,’ I went on, ‘how d’you know Dennis won’t be able to persuade the others to back you against Rob? You can’t just give up on the group like that, just when you were starting to—’

‘Dennis,’ she said evenly, ‘fancies himself as a singer. I bet he’ll step into my shoes. None of them can take Rob’s place.’ There was a sudden new light in her eyes. ‘Did you know he’s scored with that stupid blonde? Dennis, I mean. Dave was telling me—’ Something else occurred to me. ‘Dave spoke to me at home the same day Dennis told you – and said nothing!’ She released my hand and threw herself back on the bed. ‘Pricks! They’re all pricks and cowards!’

I wanted to reassure her that Dennis wouldn’t use the situation to his own advantage, but suddenly I wasn’t so sure. If he wanted to continue to impress Sally, what better way than by taking a position at the front of the band? I doubted he would see it so plainly – he wasn’t overtly selfish – but he’d find some justification for it.

‘They don’t deserve me, anyway,’ Caro was muttering.

I leaned over her. My hand came down on her stomach. Her tee shirt was loose, and my fingers made contact with her skin. She stopped muttering. After a moment I worked my hand beneath the material of the shirt.

‘Have no fear,’ she murmured as my face came close to hers. ‘I planned ahead. I am yours to do with as you wish.’

It was three hours before we went downstairs. The place seemed to be deserted, but Caro led me confidently down a passageway to a small room where an array of comfortable chairs were grouped around a large television set. Here we found Guy, Ross, Vee and Roxie. Guy and Caro exchanged glances as we came in; Guy smiled. I was glad the room was in semi-darkness.

We watched television for a little while; I was hardly conscious of what was in front of me, feeling only Caro snuggled against me. We were interrupted by Blackman, who came striding in rubbing his hands. ‘Well, that’s business finally out the way. Who will join me on a walk through the grounds?’

I wasn’t sure what our response ought to be, but the other four all got up, and Caro stirred. Blackman looked at us and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Perhaps you feel you’ve already had enough exercise today.’

Caro let out a muted groan. ‘Why can’t you be like a normal parent once in a while? All right, we’re coming.’

There was a slight delay while coats were sorted out. Although he had got up with the rest of us, Ross decided it was time he visited some friends nearby, and went through the front of the house to the cars. The rest of us went out of a small door at the back of the place, and found ourselves on the edge of a small wood. It was already dark, but I found my eyes adjusted fairly quickly. Blackman walked slightly ahead of the rest of us, looking somehow isolated. And as we went into the shadow of the trees, Caro disengaged herself from my arm and ran up to him, wrapping one arm around his waist. I found my vacant arms immediately occupied by Vee and Roxie, one on each side, which was mildly discon-certing but not unpleasant. Guy grinned at my surprise and moved up to join his father and sister.

We walked like that for about twenty minutes, following a winding path that ran alongside a small stream. I became aware that we were moving round the house; wherever we walked it was still visible, a massive light-speckled shape against the dark blue of the sky.

‘How far do these grounds extend?’ I asked of no one in particular. I felt Vee shrug. ‘Dunno. We’ve only been here a couple of times, and this is the furthest we’ve walked. It’s getting chilly,’ she observed, wrapping herself more tightly around my arm. ‘Hope we turn back soon.’

Ahead I saw the Blackmans had stopped. Robert Blackman was nodding slightly as Caro said something to him.

Guy came towards us. He held out his arms. ‘I have to relieve you, I’m afraid, Conrad – we’re heading back, and they –’ he jerked his head back ‘– want you to walk with them.’

With mild reluctance I surrendered the girls to Guy, and went over to where Caro and her father were still talking. They looked at me as I approached, then to my surprise Caro kissed me briefly on the cheek and moved past me towards the others. I looked after her, then turned back to Blackman.

He was lighting another cigarette, his face half in the shadow of a tree. He stepped forward into the moonlight; despite the conversations we’d had I felt a little afraid of him again.

‘Caroline tells me you have a resistance to adventure.’

‘Um, if you mean the Middle East doesn’t appeal to me, then yes.’

‘It’s nothing to do with the cost, I hope? I’m sure she’s told you—’

‘She’s told me. I still don’t think I’d feel right about it, but it’s not just that.’ I tried to tell him what I’d told Caro, aware that it made me sound feeble and cowardly. I did want to be with her, very badly, but something in me couldn’t face the radical re-adjustment the trip would entail.

After I had finished speaking Blackman touched my arm and indicated that we should follow the others. We fell into step side-by-side.

‘If it’s your work that concerns you, we can arrange to compensate your employer – I can have someone fill in for you—’

‘No, it’s not that. I’m sure Mr Stephenson would cope.’ I felt a question bursting to get out, and after a moment I let it. ‘Mr Blackman, I don’t want to seem ungrateful, or rude, but…why are you taking such trouble? You hardly know me.’

‘My daughter’s not a fool. She has held herself aloof from all the young men who have pursued her so far – and yet she has seen something in you, something that attracts her very strongly.’

‘I hope you’re not going to ask me what it is.’

He smiled. ‘Call it…potential. I think I see it, too. In my work it’s essential that I am able to size up people quickly, and I would be inclined to endorse Caroline’s judgement. What I think she’s worried about is that you might fail to fulfil that potential.’

‘Um…I’m not sure what she expects me to do. I doubt I’ll ever be worth that much money—’

He chuckled. ‘Money doesn’t matter in the least. I have enough money never to care whether other people have any, and Caroline knows she will never starve. You must not let money enter your mind. What is important is that you are true to yourself, to the best in you.’

‘I don’t know what that is.’

‘Then you should find out.’ He stopped and looked at me. ‘I have a gift for making money. It happens to be one of the things that people respect, so they overlook things in me that disturb them. So, I’ve been extremely lucky. What your gift may be I can’t say. At the moment, I’m told, you write. Good. But be careful; it’s very easy to do second-rate work in any field, but particularly in writing. If you can put together readable sentences, sometimes that seems enough. But try to take care with what the sentences are saying.’

We went on walking. I recalled the similar sentiments expressed by Caro on that wet Sunday afternoon that seemed a very long time ago. But my problem remained the same; what to write about? What was really important to me?

‘You mustn’t think,’ he said suddenly, ‘that I’m trying to control you, or shape your future. That’s none of my business – none of Caroline’s, either, even if you two do stay together. I’ve discovered that what matters, in the end, is being able to live with yourself. That’s all I’m encouraging you to do.’

‘Thank you,’ was all I could find to say.

We all sat down in front of Magical Mystery Tour with tea served in cups I was almost afraid to touch. The film itself was a bit disappointing, although parts of it were great. None of us could find much to say about it afterwards. For something I had been looking forward to for so long it left me with a vaguely sour feeling. Blackman preserved what was probably a diplomatic silence. Shortly after that we had dinner, just the six of us at one end of the long table in the huge dining room. As we were finishing Ross returned, and he and Blackman disappeared somewhere. The rest of us went back to the television room; Roxie was a Danny Kaye fan, so we watched the last of his shows. After a while I found I was getting drowsy; excitement and fresh air, I supposed. Caro offered to help me up to bed, and as far as I can remember, she never made it along the landing to her own room.