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seals.'
    'Bollocks.'
    Lydia let out a soft snort of contempt. 'Don't say I didn't warn you, Leo. Didn't I tell you I wasn't prepared to stand by while you wrote me out of your life like some cheap playwright editing a character out of his script?' She pounded his chest with two feeble fists. 'Dammit, I'm entitled to something, you bastard.'
    'This isn't the—' he began, but at that point, Lydia's heel caught on a peach and, skirts flapping wildly, she tumbled backwards in an inelegant heap, landing on the low dining table and sending everything flying. Nikias gallantly lent a hand hauling her upright.
    'Lydia !'
    This was the first time Silvia had spoken since the visitor had burst in, and her voice was imperiously cold. She made no attempt to disguise her revulsion at the combination of bad language, bad behaviour and the food mashed into Lydia's clothes.
    'Lydia, you're tired, you're obviously overwrought and . . . and it doesn't appear you've been eating properly,' she added in venomous euphemism.
    'And since when have you been interested in my welfare, you self-centred cow?' Lydia snarled, ungraciously shaking off Nikias's arm. 'You bugger off without a word, you don't write, the family have no idea whether you're dead or alive, and suddenly wham! Up you turn, four years later, out of the blue. And where do you set up camp, you snobby bitch? With me, your darling long-lost sister? Or with Leo, because his house is grand and comfy?'
    Claudia wondered whether anyone, above this furious interchange, had heard her gasp of astonishment. Silvia and Lydia were sisters? She knew, of course, that Leo was Silvia's brother-in-law, but she had blithely assumed the connection was on Leo's side. But yes, now you looked closer, you could see the family resemblance. Even though Lydia was ten years older and a brunette, the nose and high forehead were the same, as were the hands.
    'Well, you've made your bed, baby sister, you can bloody well lie in it,' Lydia sneered. 'I just hope what you're giving him in it is worth it.'
    'Right!'
    Leo's tolerance finally snapped and grabbing Lydia roughly by the upper arm, he dragged her through the wide double doors on to the terrace.
    'Qus!' he bawled, and his tall Ethiopian bailiff came running. 'Qus, will you please escort my lady wife home.' He closed the double doors firmly on Lydia's profanities. 'Messy things, family feuds,' he said to Claudia. 'I'm really sorry you had to be party to that ugly scene.'
    'What did she mean,' she asked innocently, 'about only life and death being able to break a contract?'
    That Leo had behaved so abominably was bad enough. That Claudia hadn't realized he was capable of such callous behaviour was unforgivable.
    Silvia, her lips white, patted her immaculate ringlets and ran a finger over each elegantly plucked eyebrow. 'Vitriol always flows when my sister takes to the wineskin,' she said. 'Take no notice of Lydia.'
    That, thought Claudia, wasn't the question. And you weren't the one I was asking. She glanced at Leo, his head tilted on one side, and wondered why Silvia had answered for him. And why he had let her. There was an undercurrent running between them. She had noticed it several times since her arrival. An undercurrent which was anything but sexual.
    'For heaven's sake,' Leo snapped, 'let's have some music in here!'
    Flautists and harpists launched into a cheerful tune, and an Indian girl clacked castanets as she danced.
    'Come on, Shamshi, Nikias. Clap along,' Leo said, but his voice was strained, his jaw clenched. Why? Because be was embarrassed that his ex-wife had aired the dirty laundry in public? Or had it got to him that Lydia might, just might, be in a position to queer his forthcoming marital pitch?
    Having dropped one stone into the pool and created a few ripples, Claudia tried another wee pebble for size. 'Who was this Magnus character Lydia mentioned?' she asked, adopting just the right air of disinterest.