She was restless, looking forward to seeing Paul again that evening but also aware that it was a business meeting, not a date. Having the print to concentrate on helped to distract her, but she couldn’t help checking the clock several times during the day. Rachel was unusually prompt collecting Charlie and Alice from the bus that afternoon. Back at the house, she went upstairs to change out of her work gear ready for her evening out. When she came downstairs her daughter stared at her in silence. “You’re wearing your best dress,” said Alice, a furrow forming across her usually smooth brow. “I’ve got a meeting with Monsieur Callot, and I want to look respectable.” Rachel looked down at the red velvet frock she had chosen. “Don’t you like it?” “It looks like you’re going to a ball or something.” “Does it?” This was not the effect Rachel had intended at all.
