Back at Lamprey Manse -

When Sonia opened the front door and walked slightly unsteadily into the hall, she dropped her bag and keys on the central circular table and was aware of a singular lack of greeting from Jupiter. This was because he was still asleep. She bent down and looked closely to ensure that he was still breathing, having to prop herself against the wall, then meandered upstairs to refresh herself and change into a rather more casual outfit before commencing upon preparations for the evening meal. Trevor normally arrived home at about 7.30 p.m. and as Sonia never really had become sufficiently acquainted with the vagaries of her state of the art range cooker, she always had to give herself plenty of culinary latitude (accompanied by several generous glasses of wine, naturally - it was the only way to cook and lent a certain panache to her otherwise unadventurous cuisine).

Unable to think up a convincing explanation for her fire damaged footwear, Sonia deposited the mule in the bin beneath several layers of household waste then went again to the spice drawer in order to roll herself a soothing cigarette, which she was able to light easily this time with matches retrieved from the bar at Mal de Mer. She opened the kitchen door, strolled across the terrace and sat half way down the steps, leaning her elbows on her knees and soaking up the tranquility as she gazed across the sunlit garden, blowing curls of smoke into the still air. Jupiter appeared sleepily at the top and lay down, apparently not sure-footed enough to tackle the steps.

Sonia took a last drag on her cigarette, ground it out beneath her sandalled foot then buried the remains in the loose earth beside her. She returned serenely to the kitchen, followed by Jupiter who now had the energy to wag his tail, uncorked a bottle of white wine which had been chilling in the ‘fridge, filled herself a large glass and assembled some vegetables in preparation for the evening meal.

Trevor arrived at about 8.00 p.m. and received a slightly less than usually enthusiastic welcome from Jupiter, however he was sufficiently preoccupied not to give it much thought. He dropped his keys on the kitchen surface, kissed Sonia on the cheek as she was trying to crush the lumps out of the sauce with a fork and said, “I say darling, heard from Dick Neville-Lazenby today, you know, well-connected merchant banker, had Christmas drinks with him on his boat, and he said, strictly hush-hush, heard it from a minister, that old Lamington-Krill and his set-up might be heading for a bit of an investigation. Tried to head it off apparently, him donating so much to the party and all that, but now the Germans have got involved, it’s going to be difficult. Looks like he’s taken the piss once too often. Can’t say anything, obviously, but a bit close to home isn’t it?”
“You’re in the clear aren’t you?”
“Oh yes, not actually done any deals with him since helping finance that estate of his, you know, Buttercups, Bodewells, ah, Bullrushes, that’s it. Never touched anything foreign, in fact haven’t been in touch for some time. Best left that way for now if poss m’dear, under the circumstances.”
Sonia, exasperated with her efforts, tipped the contents of the pan down the sink, rinsed it, then tipped in a jar of ready-prepared sauce from the cupboard and stirred it absent-mindedly.

“Mmm, come to think of it, Isobel wasn’t at the lunch today, but she never knows what he’s up to anyway. Gin and tonic darling?”
“Excellent. Large one please. Oh, and do remind me that I need to get the Aston serviced in the next week or so, old girl not running quite as smoothly as she should.”
“Do you want me to arrange it?”
“That would be marvellous darling, thank you.”