The following morning my hands had to contend with the knowledge that Fiona had successfully forgotten them, having an appointment in London that also required the creative juices of Tanta. “Oh dear, Serena, what shall we do without them?” I asked with the broadest of smiles on my face.
Breakfast, and other gratifying things, seemed to take forever that morning before we could indulge ourselves elsewhere, in the final day"s racing pleasures. We left Ascot around three pm, having successfully avoided any sightings of Grace or Tony. George had left a message about John Williams, the policeman, and was eager to see me to discuss it, but all Serena was interested in was my previous relationship with Grace and the delights of searching Portuguese delicatessens. Without warning she widened the
