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There was a shout in the yard outside, just a groom calling to someone, but it brought Fliss back to reality. She looked across at Kit, who said reluctantly, ‘We should probably head back. See how Neville’s getting on.’

‘Oh yes, of course,’ Fliss agreed, feeling a pang of guilt that she had momentarily forgotten about her host. She had been so focused on Apollo, so wrapped up in her teenage memories, that everything else had fallen away. ‘I’ll come and see you again, I promise,’ she said, as she slipped out of the stable and bolted the door. Apollo stamped his hoof and whinnied softly, before turning around and lying back down on the straw, as though waiting for her.

Fliss blew him a kiss as she left, not caring whether it looked foolish, before heading back towards the Hall with Kit. ‘I can’t believe Apollo’s still here,’ she marvelled. ‘It really did seem like he remembered me, didn’t it?’

‘What is it they say?’ Kit said softly, glancing across at her. ‘You never forget your first love.’

Fliss swallowed, Kit’s poignant words resonating. It was true; Kit was the first man she had fallen in love with, and despite the passing of time traces of those feelings still lingered, Fliss reflected, as the two of them walked in companionable silence back up to the Hall. Perhaps they always would.

They returned to the house to find that Mrs Matthews had laid out a magnificent spread for brunch in the dining hall, and everyone was helping themselves to huge plates of bacon, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes, eggs, fried bread, kippers and more.

Fliss was gratified to see Lord Oliver sitting with a full plate of food, eating slowly and carefully. He looked pale, but apparently this morning’s scare hadn’t been anything more serious than overexertion.

‘There you two are! We were about to send out a search party,’ Sally joked. She clearly didn’t mean anything by the comment, but Fliss suddenly realised how awkward it looked arriving with Kit, as Tara shot them a look.

‘We went to the stables,’ Fliss explained. ‘I can’t believe you still have Apollo!’

Tara’s face softened. ‘Yes, he’s such a sweet old boy. Can you believe he’s in his thirties now? He’s probably getting on for a hundred in horse years.’

‘I was so thrilled to see him again. We used to have so much freedom, didn’t we, riding out across the countryside? Mrs Matthews would wave us off with a packed lunch and we’d be gone all day.’

‘Yes, it was fun, then,’ Tara agreed. ‘It’s a shame we can’t stay kids forever, but things change. Life moves on,’ she continued, matter-of-factly, pouring herself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

‘That doesn’t mean you should forget the things that were important, surely?’ Fliss questioned.

‘Not everyone values the same things, Fliss. Marriage … family. That’s what really matters, isn’t it?’

Fliss wondered if she was imagining another dig from Tara. She decided to be gracious. ‘Yes, you’re very lucky to have such a great family around you.’

‘Mmm, yes. Shame you’ve never been able to fill that gap. Must make you very lonely.’ Tara fixed Fliss with a look of deeply artificial sympathy.

Definitely a dig, then.

Now that they were close, Fliss could see that Tara was showing signs of ageing too. But not her looks – she was as attractive as she had always been. Maybe in a different way, but she could still turn heads. No, it was something about her manner; almost like she was jaded and cynical. The creeping crow’s feet around Tara’s eyes were giving her a hard and unsympathetic air.

‘Money and success go a long way to filling the hole,’ Fliss shot back sweetly, slightly annoyed at herself for point scoring, but also enjoying the glare of annoyance that Tara couldn’t quite hide.

But that look was gone in a flash. Tara could never hold on to any emotion for very long, Fliss remembered. She could be as brittle as ice, or as warm as honey, and flit from one to the other in a heartbeat.

‘Do come and help yourself to food before it gets cold, darling,’ Sally said.

‘Yes, do,’ Tara said generously, ‘Matthews has brought out the big guns, a full English breakfast!’

Sally steered Fliss over to the side table which was laid out with chafing dishes. Fliss loaded her plate with scrambled egg, toast, grilled tomatoes and a side of parmentier potatoes – the morning’s walk had certainly worked up an appetite – then took a seat beside Lord Oliver.

‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine. I wish everyone would stop fussing,’ Neville replied irritably.

‘We all just want to make sure you’re OK.’

‘I know you do, Fliss. That’s very sweet of you. Sometimes I think you care more about me than my own children. Bill is just waiting until I pop my clogs so he can inherit his share of my money.’

Fliss shook her head. ‘That’s not true!’

‘Isn’t it?’ Lord Oliver raised his eyebrows, and it seemed he was about to say something more when there was a commotion outside in the hallway. Fliss heard an excited babble of voices, and moments later Mrs Matthews walked in followed by four more people.

‘Katie!’ Sally exclaimed. She was the first to get up from her seat, hurling herself towards their old friend. Fliss and Tara followed seconds later, enveloping Katie in a group hug. It had been at least a decade since Fliss had seen her friend in person; she had flown back to London for a visit when the twins were small, but she had missed Katie’s big fortieth bash a few years ago as her hectic filming schedule meant she couldn’t get time off.