An insistent March wind blew as we crossed Bayswater Road and entered Hyde Park. We walked necessarily briskly, I with my gloved hands tucked into my coat sleeves, Aidan with his hands in his pockets, both of us with hats pulled down over our foreheads.

The trees along the edge of the park were bare. The sky was white, brightening occasionally, but holding the threat of rain. It reflected my gloomy mood. We walked in silence for a long time, my mind busy. My usual strategy of pretending to be someone else failed me; I thought only of my folly and its consequences. Aidan had been kind, but I could not expect further help from him. And whatever happened, I would have to leave 23 Raleigh Court as soon as possible. Unmarried women did not stay with unmarried men, even under ordinary circumstances. With the threat of public scandal hanging over me, it would be another piece of dirt the press could dig up on me. And, unforgivably, on Aidan.

Horrified by this thought, I must have gasped, because Aidan slowed his pace. “Am I going too fast? Sorry.”

We had come to a bench, so we sat down. I put my chin into the collar of my coat so that he wouldn’t see my agitation. “Aidan,” I began, “I have decided what to do.”

“Hah! Doesn’t involve murder, does it?”

“No, it involves some sensible behaviour, for a change.”

Grimacing, he took out his cigarettes. “Good God, sensible behaviour? How tedious!” He tapped a cigarette on the packet, but didn’t light it. “So what is it?”

“I can’t stay at Raleigh Court any longer. You can’t know how grateful I am to you for putting me up, but tomorrow I’ll be on my way.”

He frowned, the unlit cigarette still between his fingers. “May I ask where you intend to go?”

“Well, David gave me five pounds, and I’ve got money in the bank and in a trust my father opened for me, so I’ll look for a room to rent. David Penn Productions are still paying me, so I’ll be all right.”

“I see. And what will you do?”

“What I should have done in the first place. Go to the police.”