He held out his hand to her, and she went across the room and took it. He pulled her to stand alongside him.

'We're all here, as you know, to help celebrate a certain, significant birthday with Susannah. One that ends with a zero, and that's all I'm saying.'

A ripple of polite laughter went round the room.

'She's still a way behind me, so I'm not sure why the need for all the discretion, but I understand that's what ladies like.'

She'd never said that. She tried not to squirm. This wasn't her style. She didn't like being the centre of attention she never really had. And tonight, she felt like a fraud, standing beside him. She hoped he would be quick.

'But that's not the only reason I decided to get everyone together this evening.'

Amelia raised an eyebrow at Susannah in a silent question. Susannah shrugged, and smiled weakly. She had no idea where this was going. At least and she was almost queasy now she hoped she didn't ...

'As you know, Susannah has shared my life for almost ten years now. That's quite an apprenticeship. And lately I've been thinking that it's about time the two of us made it official. What better night than tonight for me to ask her, in front of all her family and friends, to marry me, and be my wife?'

Susannah had never fainted. She didn't really believe in it it seemed so Southern Belle, to swoon at such a time. But she actually thought she might now. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Could there, in fact, be a worse night? She could still feel the imprint of Rob's lips on hers. She could smell him on her.

What the hell was Doug playing at? This had come from a million trillion miles away, and it had just hit her full force. The very idea couldn't have been further from her mind, her imagination or her dreams, and he had given no indication, in recent days or weeks, that it was anywhere near his either. It didn't make sense. They hadn't been getting on. Things were rocky. Things were uncertain. Why would he do this to her now?

In front of all these people.

Susannah was vaguely surprised to discover that anger was rising like bile in her throat. How dare he put her in this position? This proposal was a proverbial finger in the dyke. A single grand gesture when a hundred small and simple ones were missing from their everyday lives.

She realized that it was silent in the room. She looked at everyone's expression, and it seemed to her, for a moment, that she was looking through a kaleidoscope the faces swam and floated in front of her eyes. She focused in on Amelia, her face full of concern. She was clearly horrified at what he'd done. Susannah was glad she wasn't the only one.

'So ... Susannah ...' Douglas was prompting her.

'I'm ... I mean ... wow ... wow.' She could feel her cheeks redden.

'Is that a yes?'

This was excruciating. Of course it bloody wasn't. How could she say no in front of all these people? But how could she say yes, when she didn't mean it?

Just when it began to become unbearable, to be standing there and saying nothing with everyone's eyes on her, Amelia, wig swinging, stepped into the middle of the room, her glass held aloft. 'Okay, everyone. Let's let them have their moment, shall we? Talk among yourselves. Give them a sec.'

Jonathan stepped in, right behind her, turning to the people on his left. And then her dad, holding her mum's hand. And Alastair, full of vocal bonhomie. All moving into the empty space and making more noise than was natural. All rescuing her from this untenable moment. The two of them were absorbed into the room again. She'd never been so grateful to anyone for anything.

But he was still here. Still looking at her expectantly.

'Doug. You really sprang this on me.'

'I wanted to do something romantic.' He looked, just for a second, like a petulant child.

'Do you think this was the right place, the right moment?'

He shrugged. 'I thought it would be.'

'Really? Really?' She reached for his hand.

He pulled away.

Susannah felt people's eyes on them. 'Can we do this later? At home? When it's just the two of us. Wouldn't that be better?'

'It's a simple enough question, Susannah.'

And it was a simple enough answer, she realized. It was going to be a no. She just didn't want to give it to him here and now.

'Do you really think this is the right thing for us right now?'

His eyes were cold. 'I don't know. I thought so. Clearly you don't.'

'Not here, Doug. Please,' she implored him.

'Okay.' He held up two palms in surrender. 'Okay, then. Not here. We'll talk, later.'

She nodded.

'Happy Birthday, Susannah.' His voice was hard, and angry.

She bit back her own rage. He had no right to be angry with her.

Did he?

As soon as she could, she walked as casually as she was able to manage towards the Ladies. Amelia followed her. Fortunately there was no one else there.

Amelia pulled her into a cubicle, locking the door behind the two of them, put the seat of the toilet down, and pushed Susannah down on to it. 'Are you okay?'

Susannah pushed an index finger into the corner of each of her eyes, shaking her head. 'Not really. Is everyone out there gossiping about us?'

'Yup. Wouldn't you be? Jonathan and Alastair are doing their best to change the subject all over the place. But most people know if you don't say yes straight away, you ain't ever saying it. But most people, I'm guessing, also think it was pretty daft of him to ask you like that. Who are they, anyway? I don't know half of them. But what an idiot! What on earth possessed him? Did you have any idea that was coming?'

'None.' She shook her head. 'If I'd had the slightest inkling, I'd have headed him off at the pass. The truth is, Meels, I don't think we've ever been further away from it than we are right now.'

'Which begs the question ...'

She smiled. 'Why did he do it?'

Amelia shook her head. 'No. What are you still doing there?'

It was almost midnight before everyone left. Her mum had squeezed her tight when she said goodbye. 'A birthday and a proposal, all in one night, hey?'

Susannah knew her mum wanted to know what she was going to say, but she couldn't talk to her about it now. She thought something in her dad's face expressed his reservations, but he said nothing, just kissing her gently on the cheek. 'Happy Birthday, my little girl.'

Kathryn and Alastair had left an hour or so earlier Kathryn was desperate, it seemed, to get to her mini second honeymoon. Susannah was glad she didn't have to deal with Alastair's perceptive comments and pointed questions. She didn't have the energy. And anyway, she had Doug to deal with. She was glad, now, that he hadn't brought the kids.

Doug didn't speak much in the cab until they were about halfway home. Then he spoke, but he wasn't looking at her he stared out of the window at the lights flashing by, with his arms folded. 'I hadn't planned that. The proposal part. It was "spontaneous", in fact.' He laughed, but it was a small, choked laugh with no humour in it.

She didn't know whether that made it better or worse. She thought of Rob's 'not exactly planned' wedding to Helena. What was everyone thinking? Spontaneity seemed like a dreadful idea to her right now.

'What made you do it?'

He snorted gently. 'Hmm. Beginning to wonder now.' He didn't sound mad any more. He sounded sad, and tired.

She didn't know what to say.

A minute, maybe two, later, he spoke again.

'I thought it would make you happy, Susannah. I thought it might be what you wanted. You know what was missing. You've seemed happier lately. So, I told myself that you still loved me. That maybe just this was missing. That this would fix things.'

'So, you think things need fixing?'

Now he looked at her, his eyebrows knitted. 'Of course. I'm not stupid, Susannah. Slower than you, maybe. A bit more ostrich-like. But not entirely clueless.'

Except that he had no clue about her.

'You're so quiet.'

'I don't know what to say, Doug. You took me completely by surprise.'

'I know. I shouldn't have done it. I see that. It was stupid to do it in front of everyone. Unfair. I'm sorry.'

She reached out a hand, and he took it.

'You don't have to be sorry.'

His face had diffused her anger his face and her guilty conscience, and her profound desire not to have this conversation now.

He smiled a weak smile, his lips pressed together. 'So. Will you think about it?'

And she lied to him. Not for the first time. She'd lied about where she was the night Al had come round. Was she getting good at this? She nodded her head. 'I'll think about it.'

He wanted to make love when they got home. She had washed and moisturized her face carefully, and brushed her teeth, staying in the bathroom for longer than she needed to, but he was still awake when she slid into bed beside him. He turned on to his side and began to kiss her shoulder, pulling gently on the satin strap of her nightdress, sliding his hand in at the side to gently stroke her breast. It was always how he started.

She couldn't do it. Just as gently, she put her own hand on his and stopped him without words, rolling over so her back was to him, feeling suddenly sad as she felt his stiffness against her subside, and his breathing slow.

In the morning, Douglas had gone before she was awake. She'd forgotten he had a business trip to Paris some big merger was happening, and he'd be gone a few days. She felt bad that she hadn't woken up before he left said something to clear the air. She didn't know what. He hadn't left a note.

But Rob had left a text on her phone.

I can't stop thinking about you. Call me when you can.

March Walking through the doors of the hospital had, by now, become a horribly familiar routine for both of them. Coffees, magazines, drips the sights and smells of the place. Susannah dreaded it. It had to be a hundred times worse for Amelia. She was really tired now. She'd lost even more weight and teetered on the edge of being emaciated. Her hair was all gone and, on days like today, she eschewed the wig, tying a brightly coloured scarf around her head. Her mother had arrived, just after the first session of chemotherapy, with a stack of the iconic shallow orange boxes from Hermes which contained her collection of silk twill scarves Amelia's father had given her one every Christmas from the year he could afford such a luxury until the year before he left her, although she always seemed to have known, or guessed, that he sent his secretaries out in their lunch hours to buy them, and she hadn't worn one since he'd gone. The vivid hues of the scarf made her pale skin seem even more pallid. Her lips were dry and beginning to crack. She looked as ill as she had ever done throughout the whole process, and Susannah wondered if she could take another month or two of this. She had always known chemotherapy worked, in an almost medieval, crude way, by killing everything along with the cancer, erasing you slowly, until it almost killed you. Today, Amelia looked exactly like that. And Susannah ached for her, as she had done every day like this one since the diagnosis.

But, by God, she was crabby, too. Susannah wondered whether Jonathan was regretting moving back home. He had once, famously, said after she'd asked him to leave of loving Amelia that it was like eating raw cake mix. You loved it and you kept eating it, even though you knew it was going to give you stomach ache.

Today, Susannah thought of that and smiled. Displaying the kind of short, rude grumpiness that only an old best friend could tolerate, Amelia had griped and moaned through the journey to the hospital, complained about the wait, and was now sitting in the high-backed chair with a face like thunder.

Susannah instinctively knew it wasn't a good day to talk about Rob, although she needed to talk about him and if not to Amelia, she didn't know who else but it seemed that Rob was the first, and only, item on Amelia's time-killing agenda.

She'd been afraid to see him, after the kiss on her birthday. She'd texted him back. She'd typed an excuse at first a fabricated business trip then pushed the erase button and started again. She needed some time, she said. At least a few days.

I'm a bit afraid of what will happen when we see each other again. We've taken the lid off Pandora's box, Rob.

His reply came back within a minute or two.

Nothing will happen that you don't want to happen. I want to be near you, Susie. Your terms. Entirely.

'You're seeing him, aren't you?'

Susannah shrugged. 'I've seen him. We've had a drink. We've talked.'

'More than once?'

She nodded. 'A few times.' How many hours was it? If you laid them end to end, how far would they reach?

'That's where you were the other night, isn't it? When you were late for your party?'

'Yes. And I wasn't late. So?'

'So?' Amelia raised her eyebrows.

'Yes. So, what? Can't we be friends?'

'And is that what you are? Is that all you are?'

Susannah thought about the kiss.

'Exactly.' Amelia interpreted her brief silence with pinpoint accuracy. 'Has he met Doug? Does Doug know you're seeing him?'

Susannah shook her head.

'Well, God knows I never thought I'd feel sorry for Doug, but I think I'm starting to. He asked you to marry him, and you'd been in the pub with your boyfriend.'

'It isn't like that.'

'What is it like, then? Make me understand. Explain it to me.'

'Stop being so aggressive. I can't talk to you when you're like this.'

Amelia sniffed. But when she spoke again, her tone was softer, and her eyes were more wide and imploring than narrow and accusatory. 'What are you doing, Suze? What do you think you're playing at? This isn't right, and you know it. You wouldn't be being so damn secretive, sneaking around everywhere, lying, if you didn't know it was wrong.'

'Why is it so wrong, Meels? We aren't doing anything wrong.'

That wasn't true. And Amelia knew it as well as she did.

'Oh, don't give me that crap,' she spat at her so, imploring wasn't going to last. She smiled sarcastically. 'Really. You should know me well enough by now to know that I'm not going to buy it. You're forty years old. We're not kids any more. Of course it's wrong. Wake up, will you? He is married to someone else. He's another woman's husband, Susannah. Just because she's umpteen thousand miles away doesn't mean she doesn't exist, doesn't mean she isn't real. Whether you want to pretend that's the case or not. And just because you're not sleeping with him doesn't mean it isn't wrong. And if you don't think that's just a matter of time, then you're even more gone than I thought you were. And don't tell yourself that it's not you doing it to her. Because it is it is both of you.'

'I'm not pretending anything, believe me.'