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perhaps she had just never asked. She had covered her ears and averted her eyes so that she never had to think about or remember Alex Carter, who had made this place his home now too.

‘Sarita.’

‘That’s so pretty. I’d love to meet her while I’m here.’

He glanced back with a smile. ‘You will.’

‘And is your dad around?’

‘No. He’s up at the Lodge.’

The Lodge was the large plantation-style house her father had built high up in the hills, several hours from here – or so she was told. She herself had never visited it; it had been built during her self-imposed exile, but she had seen the plans and photographs, heard it lauded over family dinners . . . The official handing-over ceremony of the park, back to the Costa Rican people, was going to happen on Friday in the nearest town to the Lodge, and a small fiesta had been planned.

‘He’s getting the last bits ready for the launch,’ Jed continued.

‘Ah yes, of course. The launch.’ She rolled her eyes, her fingers tapping lightly against the glass as the spectre of coming face to face with her past ran an icy chill down her spine. ‘How could I have forgotten about that?’ she muttered.

Jed chuckled and shook his head, prodding the eggs with a spatula and watching as they whitened before his eyes. ‘Now that I don’t know.’

The plan was for her and Miles and their group to fly up there on Thursday evening in time for the handover on Friday, and do their duty hobnobbing with the government bigwigs; there would be press and much pressing of the flesh for the Tremain family members. For Miles that was the worst of it, but she had a far more dreadful fate to contemplate – Alex Carter would be on that stage, by her father’s side, and for those few hours there would be no avoiding him. But there was no question of ducking out. This wasn’t just their father’s project, it was his legacy, and for his sake, they had to be there. Besides, she wouldn’t need to speak to Alex. Miles, Holly and (unwittingly) Rory were going to be her defensive wall, she had privately decided, and once the ceremonies were over, their happy group could then spend the rest of the weekend relaxing at the Lodge before they flew home on the Monday. It was far from ideal, but it would be absolutely fine.

She watched as he spooned several large dollops of chilled rice and beans into the pan to warm it through and mix with the egg. He gave the pan a final shake, then slid the contents into a shallow yellow-painted ceramic bowl.

So quick, so good.

He set it down before her and the aroma hit her like a slap. She closed her eyes, feeling her mouth instantly water. ‘Oh my God,’ she moaned. ‘That smells so good. I’m absolutely starving. I’ve not had a proper meal in days.’

‘Why not?’

She shrugged. ‘Work.’

His eyebrows raised to a single point. ‘T-t, if you haven’t got time to eat, then you’re working too hard.’

‘Yeah, probably,’ she said, taking the fork he was holding out for her and beginning to eat. And once she began . . . she felt a sort of desperation wash through her, as though she couldn’t get the food into her body fast enough. She hadn’t realized how much she had neglected herself. It felt so normal back home to – literally – run on empty. No sleep, no food.

He watched in bemused silence as she chased the last grain of rice around the bowl, pushing it onto the fork with her finger, before finally setting down her cutlery and sitting back with a satisfied smile. His gaze went from her face to the licked-clean bowl to her face again. ‘Seriously. Maybe don’t work so hard?’ he repeated, an eyebrow arched.

She laughed and nodded, looking back with affection at that kind face with quietly wise brown eyes and a mouth that knew when to stay shut. It had always been easy talking to Jed. ‘Oh, I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you, T-t. Why did you stay away so long? Surely they give doctors holidays back in England?’

‘Yeah, they do,’ she sighed, looking away and desperately not wanting to bring up Alex’s name. She had never brought him out here, so unless Miles had blabbed, Jed wouldn’t know about her relationship history with the conservation project’s big boss. What was his title – technical director? Something like that. To bring it all up now, to try to explain how devastating his betrayal had been . . . How could she explain that Alex’s presence here had contaminated this place for her? That her place of childhood refuge had become inextricably linked with the man who had destroyed her life? ‘Time just . . . slips past, I guess, when you’re not looking. I’ve been pretty focused on my career.’

Jed nodded. ‘So, the boyfriend . . .’ He picked up a crate of glasses and one by one, began pulling them out and stacking them on the shelves.

‘Rory.’

‘Yes. Rory.’

His guarded tone reminded her of their run-in last night. ‘He’s a good man,’ she said reassuringly. ‘A doctor too.’

Jed nodded, not making eye contact. ‘You been together long?’

‘About a year?’ She didn’t know why she said it as a question. Jed wouldn’t know how long it had been. She ought to know, she just wasn’t big on marking dates. Her hand went to the gold locket at her neck – his gift to her for their first anniversary together. ‘Just over.’

‘It must be serious, then.’

‘I guess. We’re both . . . settled, very happy together. It works well, us both being doctors. He’s a good man.’

‘Yeah, you said that.’ He winked, teasing her lightly. ‘You thinking marriage? Babies?’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Definitely not. My focus is my career for the moment.’

Jed glanced at her, but said nothing. But she knew what lay in that silence; he knew she was thirty years old; he assumed her biological clock was ticking . . .

‘You want a coffee?’

She smiled. She had always loved the way he said it.

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