Chapter 2

So Richard got on with life. He found he could keep his job running on about three days a week. He also found that clients rather enjoyed coming down to the country, having a pub lunch and walking the dogs while they discussed business. He had a good memory and could e-mail them a resume of their discussion and decisions after they had left without having to take notes. He also found that inviting job candidates down relaxed them. He was able to discover much more about them than if he had been interviewing them in his office in London.

All this meant that he still had plenty of time to play golf twice a week, sing with his choral society once a week and spend time with his dogs. He also had time for things like the crossword and Su Dokhu.

He was content but not happy. He still missed Rachel desperately. His friends invited him to drinks parties and dinners and other things such as point-to-points and invariably produced an attractive single woman. It was no good though. He was unable to arouse any interest.

He held various parties in return and found those more fun because he was not paired off with someone. None of the women he met at these parties appealed to him. Sure, some of them were physically very attractive but they bored him quite quickly. They did not have Rachel's spontaneity or quick sense of humour nor, he sensed, her wisdom. Furthermore, he reckoned that most of them had an ulterior motive: land a moneyed widower.

On the anniversary of Rachel's death he visited her grave and left flowers but then he did that every week. He went home afterwards and moped.

He could not bring himself to even glance at the newspaper let alone tackle the crossword. The dogs caught his mood and slunk round the house keeping out of his way but they could not restrain themselves by three o'clock. He was forced to take them for a walk.

The countryside, the fresh air and the dogs' exuberance did much to lift his heart. He actually found the incentive to make himself supper. Nevertheless he took himself to bed with a heavy heart and did not sleep well. He was still lethargic and gloomy the following morning.

That was not allowed to continue.

It was Wednesday and Sharon arrived like a whirlwind: noisy, bustling and garrulous as always. He tried to hide in his study but she was having none of it and, whereas she normally respected his privacy there, she kept popping in.

Finally, in exasperation, he asked: "You're in and out of here like a shuttlecock. What's on your mind, Sharon?"

"You are, Mr H, she answered explosively.