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her, possessed her, and worshipped her. He was spellbound.
    He drowned in the emerald pools of her eyes, and like mother of pearl, they emitted fractured light and incredible depth of colour and shading, intensifying her mystery and mood. Her skin was opaque, like fine English porcelain, her mouth large, full-lipped and expressive. She tossed her wild hair back from her face, revealing a strong sculptured profile with a long and slightly flat nose, but it was most flattering to him. In this light, he recalled the Pre-Raphaelite portrait of Vanessa Wilding, the creature of Beauty , and thought that this woman who sat before him was born to a different age. He could not paint her, like Waterhouse, nor possess her, as Dante with Beatrice. But from afar, he would adore her. For him, time seemed to stand still in that one indeterminable moment.
    â€˜Are you all right? ’ she asked, leaning forward in her chair.
    â€˜I’m so sorry,’ he answered, slightly embarrassed. Lowering his gaze into his glass of wine, gently swirling the contents with the motion of his hand, he said, ‘This Barola is rather good, but it is not conducive to concentrating the mind. I was daydreaming, I’m afraid. ’
    Lauren lifted the bottle from the flagstone floor, gesturing towards a refill.
    â€˜I’d better not. ’
    â€˜Do you live far? ’ she enquired, refilling both their glasses anyway.
    â€˜Chelsea Harbour. ’
    â€˜I have friends in Battersea. I travel up by train every few weeks. But mostly I try to keep out of the city. London is far too claustrophobic for me. ’ Lauren sipped her wine and lit a cigarette. Exhaling, she added excitedly, ‘I insist you stay for lunch. It’s the very least I can do for you. There is a great deal of material to look through. ’
    Michael declined her offer of a cigarette. He began a futile protest in respect of the first suggestion. ‘I couldn’t possibly…’
    â€˜Nonsense, it’s a simple dish. ’ She laughed, confessing, ‘Leftovers from last night. Just cold salmon, if that’s ok? I’ll add a green salad and French bread and we can wash it down with water, assuming the wine is too overpowering for you. Now, how can you resist such a temptation? ’
    He raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘Well, in the circumstances I can hardly refuse. It sounds delightful. ’ Secretly, he was more than thrilled. He was intoxicated with the scent of her physical presence, which grabbed like an overwhelming sensation of…of…it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
    Lauren rose from her chair and came to sit beside him on the wicker sofa. ‘Michael, I have a tendency to be overbearing in conversation. Since you have arrived, I’ve talked non-stop about my troubles and told you everything about my husband and my difficult circumstances. ’ She edged forward and touched his arm. ‘If I’m honest, I am feeling raw and vulnerable…and a little scared. Can you understand that? ’
    â€˜Of course,’ he muttered, relating privately to his own situation. ‘It’s hard coping on your own. ’ He was happy for her to leave her hand where it was.
    â€˜Michael, you just being here helps. It brings a little normality back into my life. Being lonely, being alone, facing an uncertain future…well, preparing a simple lunch for two is important to my sanity. Please understand. So thank you. ’
    He instinctively reached out and took her hand, marvelling at the touch of her skin. ‘Lauren, I’ll do all I can, within my capabilities. We’ll try and unravel this mess. ’
    â€˜Michael, I need to sell this house, desperately. It’s too big and costly to maintain by myself. ’
    â€˜Hopefully,’ he answered, ‘we will sort out the finances to help you survive and then move on. I will need the details of your solicitor.