Delilah felt obscurely betrayed by the fact that Vanna was here, even though it was all explained very smoothly. She had come to England on holiday and been invited to stay with friends who by chance had rented a country house close to Fort Stirling. She hadn’t intended to visit but being in the vicinity had awakened so many happy memories that she had felt compelled to drop in. And wasn’t it lovely to see John again, and the house, and also get the chance to meet his charming wife? Goodness, the place hadn’t changed a bit, and neither had John! Vanna spoke in a friendly enough way, and smiled and behaved perfectly pleasantly, but Delilah was ill at ease. That’s not surprising, she told herself. How many people would be fine with their husband’s first wife dropping in like this out of the blue? There can’t be many. But besides that she felt on the back foot. Vanna looked so polished and glamorous and she wafted through the rooms of the fort pointing out things she remembered and exclaiming over how things had either altered in some minute way, or stayed the same.
