The weather had turned by the time they got back to England, making Rachel wish even more that they had stayed a day or two extra for the seafood BBQs, the tennis, and the snorkelling in the electric-blue Caribbean sea. Then again, their trip to Jamaica had not been without its awkward moments. She and Liam had got on well, falling back into their easy companionship that had prompted half a dozen people to ask whether they were on their honeymoon, so from that point, she was glad to be back on safer, less romantic ground. ‘Look at this place,’ he said as they rounded the corner and Somerfold appeared. Rachel knew that Liam was from the sort of upper-middle-class family that had friends with country piles. He never boasted about his background, although he couldn’t help the occasional reference to things in his past that gave clues about the sort of world he was from. The public school and Cambridge education, the gap year in South America, the nostalgic mention of a holiday cottage in Dorset.
