The next evening, Bianca sat, wearing a deep green oversized sweater and figure-hugging jeans, listening to her Masters.

They had turned up that evening, O’Grady looking as ruggedly handsome as ever, although he was also looking tired. St Just, as cool as ever, but with a piercing look in his eyes, as though he was searching for a way to tell her something she would not like to hear.

Her knees drawn up to her chin, she hugged herself silently and watched them as they circled like wary fighters.

She had asked them when she could resume her work and the strained silence that followed had alerted her to something...