He took it, winking at her before drinking deeply. 'Something smells good.'

'I should think anything would smell good to you at this point.'

He caught her around the waist and pulled her to him, kissing the side of her neck. 'You certainly do.'

'Ew. So cheesy. That kind of line work for you?'

He laughed. 'Sometimes.'

Later, when he'd eaten everything on his plate, and half of her virtually untouched meal, he led her over to the fireplace. They hadn't talked much while they ate. It was as if there was so much to say that it was easier to be quiet. There was something enormous happening, and it almost commanded silence. Susannah wondered how much Rob was thinking about Helena. Rob wondered how he so successfully compartmentalized his life as though the simple act of crossing the Channel made him a different person. Made him free. There was no room in this moment, in this evening, for anything but Susie his Susie. Being this close to each other was enough, for now. He put a couple more logs on the fire she'd built earlier in the grate, and the two of them sat down facing each other on the thick wool rug. They couldn't get close enough that way. Uncurling her, Rob put her legs over his, grabbing her behind and pulling her almost into his lap, then stretched his own legs out behind her. Gathering all her hair into his hand, he pulled her head gently around to kiss her mouth. Susannah felt light-headed. Kissing was all they were doing, and already she was more dazed than she'd been in a long, long time.

'I used to dream about being somewhere with you, just like this, Susie. When we were kids. When we couldn't seem to find a place to be alone, or a time. Do you remember that? Somewhere just like this. With a glass of wine and a fireplace. Somewhere stupid-romantic.'

'You mean you didn't find that caravan romantic?'

'Christ that caravan. I haven't thought about that in forever. Bloody Amelia. No. Not that romantic, no. Not exactly what I'd had in mind.'

'I know. Do you remember, you used to talk about us in a big, white, clean bed?'

'Never got there, though, did we?'

She remembered. Everything. She remembered Lois catching them, flushed and breathless, when they were supposed to be doing homework in the conservatory. She remembered kissing themselves weak-kneed, standing up against walls, and being interrupted at parties. Lying, cross and frustrated, on the narrow, thin mattress in the caravan. Wanting him. She didn't really know what it was she wanted from him, wanted him to do to her, in those days. They'd been learning together. She knew now.

She kissed him back, her mouth wet and open and increasingly urgent. 'What would you have done, back then, if we'd had a place like this?' She was daring him.

'I'd have kissed you just like this ...'

'And ... ?'

'And I'd probably have seen if I could have got away with undoing some of these buttons.' His hands were on her shirt.

She ached to feel his hands on her bare flesh. 'I bet you could have. You were always pretty good at that sort of thing.'

He laughed a deep throaty laugh, but then he was suddenly very serious. His mouth dropped to the hollow at the base of her throat, and his fingers started to work at the buttons, slowly, but very deliberately. She moved her own hands to his shirt, and they matched each other button for button, until all the buttons were undone. Susannah pushed the shirt back from his shoulders, and he moved his hands away from her for a moment to let it fall to the ground behind him. She kissed a small trail of kisses across his chest, and stroked him with her fingers. He was both familiar and strange it was utterly intoxicating that he could be both things at once. He was Rob, as he had always been, in some ways. But he was different thicker, and more muscled, too. He'd been a teenager, the last time they'd seen and held each other this way. And this was the body of a man.

Susannah felt a sudden pang of anxiety and self-consciousness. Her body was different, too. Softer, less pert than he might remember. She sucked in her stomach involuntarily as he pushed her shirt back.

'Don't.' His voice was harsh. 'Don't do that.'

She exhaled.

'You're lovely. Lovelier than ever before.'

She looked him straight in the eye without blinking as she reached behind her back, and undid her bra, but his glance dropped as he brought his hands up to cup her breasts before the fabric even fell away from them. And she didn't feel shy any more. His fingers and his mouth worked at her until she felt dizzy with lust.

He lifted her off his lap and the two of them stretched their denim-clad legs out, and lay down beside each other, her flat on her back, and Rob up on one elbow, leaning in to kiss her, his free hand stroking her, pulling at the waistband of her jeans. Susannah threw one leg across Rob's and pushed at him. He grabbed her bum and pulled her in. When that wasn't enough, they both kicked impatiently out of their jeans. They reached into each other's underwear, greedily. Susannah felt herself pulsing. She couldn't believe how turned on she was. He was rock hard in her hands, and his breath was coming in great rasping gusts. Was this happening? Was it really happening?

She didn't know which one of them pulled back first. Maybe it was both of them. They sprang apart, and lay on their backs, catching their breath.

He spoke first. 'We can't.'

'I know.'

'I want to.'

'God. Me, too.'

'Remind me why we can't?'

She could hear the wry smile, though she wasn't looking at his face. 'Because we're both "good". Too bloody good.'

'Still? I'm not sure.'

'Yes, you are. We both stopped, Rob. For the same reasons. Because you're married and I'm ... with someone ... and because all those years ago, we didn't, because it wasn't right and it still isn't.'

He turned to look at her face while she spoke.

'I want it to happen when it's right. Not just between the two of us because I think we're there. When it's right in the world. I know that probably sounds ridiculous ...'

'No, it doesn't. You sound like Susie.'

'Queen of excuses, right?' She turned to face him.

'No.' He shook her gently. 'You weren't a tease then, Susie, and you're not now. Listen. I've never wanted to make love to you, or to anyone else, for that matter, as much as I want to right here and right now. And, God knows, when I was seventeen I used to think I was going to die if I couldn't. Die, or burst, or something. But I agree with you. It isn't right yet.'

And it was all in the word yet, wasn't it? All the promises. Yet. When would it be right? When he'd left Helena, when she'd left Douglas. When they'd told the truth to the people around them. Then they'd be free. Yet. The word was full of her future. Susannah knew tonight wasn't the time to have the big, tough discussions. Not the time for deadlines and ultimatums and concrete plans.

'Yet' was enough, for now.

She kissed his forehead, and sat up to lean back against the sofa. It was incredibly hard not to touch him. In the firelight, she could see his chest rise and fall. He pulled himself round and sat beside her, a few inches apart from her. He reached behind her, pulling a throw around her shoulders. Their breathing steadied, and slowed. She felt very calm. Then he took her hand in both of his, and held it gently. She smiled at him.

He held her glance for the longest time. 'So, twenty years have passed, and we're basically back where we started.'

'How do you mean?'

'I've got a stonking hard-on and nowhere to go with it.'

She smacked his arm. 'So base. So, what now? Wanna watch TV? Think there's a boxed set of 24 round here I've been meaning to catch. Or there's bound to be Scrabble. My parents are Scrabble nuts.'

Rob laughed and lifted her hand to his mouth to kiss it. 'I want to fall asleep with you, in a bed. I want to lie down with my arms around you and fall asleep and sleep for hours and hours. Can we do that, Susie?'

'We can do that. I'd love to do that.'

It felt chilly, away from the fire, in the guest bedroom. Susannah pulled a couple of T-shirts out of a drawer, and threw one at Rob, then pulled back the duvet and climbed in.

'Brrr.' She shivered. 'I'm not taking off my socks.'

'Good. They're the only thing keeping my lust in check.'

'Spoons?'

'Spoons.' She lay facing the wall, and he slid across the bed to hold her, one arm under her neck, and the other around her waist, resting on her stomach. His breathing slowed, and she thought he was asleep, but just before she surrendered herself she heard him say, 'I love you,' very quietly into her hair.

Susannah slept for ten hours, but Rob was still, apparently, deeply asleep when she awoke. She lay and watched him, the rise and fall of his chest, his lips pursed slightly. She laid her own arm against his: her skin looked milky white against his olive colouring. She'd always loved that. She remembered looking down at their clasped hands, when they'd been seventeen, and loving how it looked, dreaming stupid schoolgirl dreams of olive-skinned babies.

They hadn't spent a whole night alone together in the same bed since they were eighteen years old, in the caravan.

Not wanting the night to end, she snuggled down beside him again. When she opened her eyes what felt like a few minutes later, but must have been longer, he was gone. She found him in the kitchen, still in his T-shirt and boxer shorts, scrambling eggs. When he saw her, he came over and, taking her face in his hands, kissed her deeply.

'Good morning.'

'Morning, Susie. You slept well.'

'You, too.'

'I liked the way you felt, lying beside me.'

Mum had placed a teak bench outside, facing the amazing view, where the morning sun would hit it, and after they ate their eggs, Rob wrapped the blanket from last night around Susannah's shoulders and they took mugs of coffee out there. Susannah stared at the mountains in the distance, her knees hugged to her chest.

'Are you okay?' he asked her, stroking her thigh gently.

'I don't remember why it all went so wrong. I mean, I do remember. I remember what I did. I just don't remember why any more. This you and me this feels so right, Rob. It just seems stupid so stupid that we had it before, and we let it go. We wasted so much time. I'm sorry.' She was close to tears.

'Hey. Don't. There's no point in that, Susie. It's the past, and that's where it belongs. This is us now. We're here.'

'But where's here, Rob? We're hiding out. We're playing house. This isn't real life.'

'It feels real to me.'

'But it isn't.' Susannah persisted. 'I have Douglas at home, waiting for me, wondering what the hell is going on with me. You've got Helena. She doesn't know she needs to be wondering, too but we both know it won't stay that way.'

He didn't reply.

'What are we going to do?'

'I don't know', he admitted. 'It's crazy. In some ways, lots of ways, this feels like the simplest thing in the world. You and me. In others, it's as complicated as it gets.'

They sat quietly for a moment, watching clouds drift across the horizon.

Then Rob turned to her, and took both her hands in his. 'I don't know everything, Susie. But I know this. We are supposed to be together. The rest, I think, is just stuff we have to sort out. Isn't that the most important thing figuring out what we both want? Both need?'

'Just sort it out. You make it sound easy.'

'I didn't say that. But I love you, Susie. You make me happy. This is what I want.' He kissed her mouth, gently. 'Can we do something?'

'What?'

'Can we just play house a while longer? Can we not talk about all of that? It doesn't belong here. Just for a while?'

And it was so easy, when he kissed her, and the sun warmed her face, to agree.

Mum's binder recommended a restaurant in the town, and they decided to take a chance on getting a table that evening. It was a weeknight, out of tourist season, although it was still warm and lovely. Susannah thought it was more likely to be closed than full. It was funny how nothing much mattered here. Eat out, or not. Get up, or not. Just being together that was all that mattered. She thought for a moment about life at home with Douglas. Ruled by the diary. Complex arrangements, deadlines, schedules. It seemed a thousand miles away, and she pushed the thought of it, and of him, away. The tension had gone, from her neck and her shoulders, without her even thinking about it. When she'd looked in the bathroom mirror after she'd showered, her skin looked clear and brighter her eyes somehow less lined. Left to dry naturally, her hair curled, more like it had been when she was a teenager. She looked less polished, younger. Rob said he liked her that way.

She'd left her BlackBerry in the car, gone cold turkey that first night when she'd arrived. She'd stopped reaching for it now. When she'd checked it this morning there was a text from Jonathan, letting her know that Amelia was okay after the chemo. A few from work, but Megan said there was nothing that needed immediate attention. Nothing from Doug.

They were wrong about it being a quiet night. Something was going on in the town. They parked where Susannah had parked the day before, and strolled hand in hand through the gathering crowd. The main square was full of long trestle tables laid with checked tablecloths, and brightly coloured bunting was strung between lamp posts. Music was playing in several different bars, and everyone, it seemed, had their doors flung open for the evening. People milled around, chatting and laughing, and they nodded at Susannah and Rob as they made their way to the restaurant.

Rob had a little more French than Susannah, and after a nodding, smiling exchange with the proprietor, established that it was a fete evening that the restaurant was closed but the kitchen was open. They may eat at the trestle tables with everyone else. Every restaurant in town, it seemed, was serving the same way. The menus were all slightly different, but all relied heavily on foie gras and duck, the local specialities. They paid their twenty euros each, which bought them a pink ticket and a bottle of red wine, the cork already removed, and took two free seats at the end of a long table occupied by a big extended family with several children, including a newborn, who was wrapped in blankets and lying in a pram, seemingly oblivious to the din. Rob poured them both a plastic glass of wine, and they toasted, then he kissed her, across the table. Susannah saw that the young mother with the toddler on her lap was smiling at her, nodding as though she understood something. She smiled back.

'I want babies.' She said it to herself almost as much as to him.

'Right now? Do you want that one?' Rob pointed at the baby in the pram. 'I reckon if you could distract the mother, I could get that one.'

She smiled. 'In January the first time we saw each other I brushed you off when you asked me about kids. I pretended I didn't remember that I always wanted them. It was too hard to admit that I'd let myself make such a cock-up. Get to be forty and not have had them. I did want them. I still do. I'm just afraid it's too late.'

'It's not.'

'I lost a baby. When I was married to Sean.'

'I didn't know.'

'Of course you didn't. How could you have done?'

'I'm sorry.'

'He or she would be ... I don't know ... fourteen now. Something like that.' She shook her head wistfully. 'It's an extraordinary thought. Already a teenager. Where did all that time go? What about you?'

'No babies. Not that I know of.'

'But you and Helena ... I mean she wants them, wanted them ...'

That's why it was too difficult. She didn't even know what tense to use about his wife.

His face darkened. 'Susie.'

'I know. I'm sorry.'

'I just feel ... I know it sounds ridiculous. I'm a raging hypocrite. But ... talking about her ... it feels disloyal ...'

Susannah looked down. She felt suddenly ashamed.

He lifted her chin with his index finger. 'Can we do what we said ... can we let it all fade away ... just for now? I'm a coward, I'm a bastard, I'm whatever else you can think of. You can't call me worse than I've called myself. But not tonight.'

After dinner, they wandered down to the other end of the square, in the direction everyone else was heading, to where a band was playing on a temporary stage. It was dark now, and the sky was incredibly clear and starlit. Everyone, it seemed, was dancing, except for the old widows in black who sat on metal chairs around the edges, watching. Parents swayed together with toddlers on their hips, and youths jumped and flailed out of time in big, happy groups. Two or three middle-aged couples who obviously knew what they were doing danced properly in the middle, incongruously able in the midst of the melee.

Rob dragged Susannah, protesting and laughing, into the throng, and then pulled her to him, one arm tight around her waist.

'I can't.'