Mira burst into the room as we sat. She was dressed in jeans and a white silk blouse, her glossy black hair tied back. ‘You are not dressed? We have...work to do. Please go and prepare while I talk to Ivanova.’ I stood hastily, feeling chastened and hurried to my suite to change. Irina had made my bed and cleared my tea and left clothes on the bed for me. I showered and dressed and made my way back to the saloon. Mira’s hand was under Ivanova’s skirt. They were talking and both turned to look at. Patrick looked thoughtful. “Who else were you thinking of inviting?”“We haven’t finalised the guest list yet, but it will definitely be Colette, Zena and Harriet, probably John, my erstwhile clerk, and possibly more.”“Well,” David said, “if you’re having it on Friday, shall we close the office, give everyone the day off with pay?”“Good idea,” Patrick concurred. “that way everyone gets to celebrate whether they get invited to the wedding or not.”“That’s a brilliant idea,” I said. “So any Friday. More

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