But it was impossible to ignore the shriek of delighted astonishment that Susie let out at the sight of something in the street below. ‘What is it?’ Cat asked, dragging her attention away from Ghasts of Gigha to present company.

‘Look,’ Susie exclaimed. ‘It’s Johnny Thorpe in an amazing red sports car. And your brother and Bella in ...’ She tailed off.

Mr Allen, who had joined her at the window, completed her sentence. ‘A rather clapped-out Triumph Spitfire, unless I’m mistaken.’

‘Oooh! Johnny’s jumped out, he’s coming up!’ Susie clapped her hands over her face. ‘Look at me, I’m wearing rags, I’m hardly made up at all! What will he think?’

‘I don’t imagine it’s you he’s come to see,’ Mr Allen said drily. And now there was a hammering at the door. ‘Bloody boy doesn’t know what a doorbell’s for,’ he grumbled as he went to answer it.

Johnny bounded in, a cheeky grin on his face, tight jeans and a striped shirt on his body. A throat-closing swirl of pungent aftershave hung in the air around him. ‘Well, Cat, here I am. Have you been waiting long? It took your brother longer than he expected to sort out the loan of a set of wheels. Good morning, Mrs Allen, bloody good night last night, wasn’t it? I went back to the tables after you left, made a few hundred at the blackjack table. Splendid night, all told. Come on then, Cat, we’re on a double yellow and we’re all waiting for you.’ He rolled his hand from the wrist, imploring her to get on with it.

‘What do you mean? Where are you all going to?’

He rolled his eyes, which brought home his resemblance to his sister Bella. ‘Going to? What have you got instead of brains, Cat? Have you forgotten our date? A run out to North Berwick for fish and chips? We’re all ready and waiting.’

‘You mentioned it in passing, I don’t remember a firm arrangement being made. You could have texted me or Facebooked me.’

He looked affronted. ‘What, you think I’m the kind of man who just makes idle promises? Cat, I work in the City now, where a man’s word is his bond.’

‘Or not, as has apparently been the case with some of our bankers,’ Mr Allen cut in darkly.

‘Whatever. Text or no text, you’d have kicked off royally if I hadn’t turned up, I bet.’

All Cat wanted from the day was to see Ellie Tilney. And she knew that her new friend had tickets for three events at the Pleasance. The run out to North Berwick couldn’t take that long. She was bound to be back in time to catch Ellie later in the day. And if she dug her heels in and refused to go, it would only cause bad feeling that would spoil the day for her brother and her friend. The only thing that could override John’s insistence and not reflect badly on her would be if Susie vetoed the outing because of pre-existing plans. She cast her a beseeching look and said, ‘Is that OK with you, Susie? It’s not interfering with your plans?’

Susie either failed to notice the entreaty or misread it altogether for she said, ‘Of course, you must go off with James and your friends. You don’t want to be stuck with fuddy duddy me all day, do you?’ And she shooed them out the door like a mother hen, busily telling John how wonderful a young woman Cat was and how he must spoil her as she deserved to be spoiled.

Cat hurried down the stairs in John’s wake, emerging to the sound of Bella whooping with joy at the sight of her. ‘Hey, girlfriend! What kept you?’ Cat ran across the pavement and embraced Bella, who muttered in her ear, ‘I totally need to talk to you about last night, but it’ll have to wait till these guys are done with driving around like Formula One maniacs.’

‘Come on, Cat.’ John was already in the driving seat, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

As she turned away, she heard Bella say to her brother, ‘She’s such a sweetie, Jamie.’ It was a gratifying moment, given how unloved she had felt the previous evening. She let herself down into the low-slung passenger seat and John revved the engine, filling the street with its low boom.

‘I warn you, I’m one hell of a driver,’ John said, slamming the car into gear and shooting forward. The acceleration thrust Cat back into her seat, but she was almost immediately thrown against the seat belt when the next traffic light turned red and they were forced to stop with a screech of brakes.

Hell was right, she thought, as they proceeded east out of the city in a series of sudden leaps and abrupt halts. On a couple of occasions, Cat managed to glance behind at her brother and Bella, who seemed to be keeping up with them despite travelling in a far less violent fashion. Through it all, John maintained a steady monologue, requiring nothing more from Cat than the occasional grunt, which was just as well since she felt beyond speech.

‘I love having the top down. The wind in your hair, the sun on your face, the feeling of freedom.’

The traffic fumes and the dust in your eyes, Cat thought.

‘Wait till we hit the A1, then I’ll show you what she can do. Your brother will never keep up in that old rustbucket he borrowed.’ And so on, and so forth.

As they turned into London Road, John abruptly changed the subject. ‘Old Allen – is he Jewish?’

Catherine had no idea what prompted the question and it made her slightly uneasy. ‘Mr Allen? He’s not that old. And I don’t think he’s Jewish. They come to church at Christmas. Why does it matter? Why are you bothered?’

‘Just curious.’ He gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘He’s got all the financial acumen of a Jew. They’re still top of the tree in the finance business, you know. And he’s definitely made plenty of money over the years, no?’

‘I suppose so. They have a lovely house in the village and a flat in Holland Park. And they’re always taking exotic holidays.’ There was no envy in Cat’s words, merely a statement of fact.

‘They’ve no kids of their own, right?’

‘That’s right. Susie says she never wanted kids, but sometimes I wonder.’

‘But they’re your godparents, right?’

Cat frowned and grabbed the side of the car as they lurched round a milk float at speed. ‘No, they’re just family friends.’

‘But you’re special to them, right? Or else why would they bring you to Edinburgh with them for a whole month?’

‘Mr Allen thought I would be company for Susie while he’s working.’

‘You sure it’s her you’re here to keep amused and not him?’

When Cat understood his meaning, she was so annoyed she would likely have jumped out of the car if they’d been stationary. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say,’ she told him. ‘You make him sound like some dirty old pervert. And he’s nothing like that at all. That’s a revolting idea. He doesn’t even tell smutty jokes. He’s a genuinely nice man, I don’t know how you dare to suggest otherwise.’

John grunted, as if dissatisfied with her response. ‘I heard he’s got health problems.’

‘He had a minor heart attack in the spring, he’s supposed to take things a bit easier. That’s why Susie’s here for the whole month this time – she wanted to keep an eye on him.’

‘But he’s still knocking back the Scotch, right? I saw him the other night at a whisky tasting and he was giving it some welly for a man who’s supposed to be looking after his heart.’

‘I think that’s his business, don’t you?’

‘I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,’ John said. ‘Living in this country is so bloody depressing you need something to cheer you up.’

‘Yes, I hear you students apparently needed a lot of cheering up. My dad says it’s shocking how much you lot drink compared with what it was like in his day.’ This was as close to waspishness as Cat was capable of.

John laughed loudly. ‘This new lot are all lightweights when it comes to drinking, trust me. When I was a fresher, we’d think nothing of knocking back two or three bottles of wine each on a good night, with a few brandy chasers. But I hear this year’s lot were falling over their feet after a single bottle.’

‘Maybe they weren’t as well off as your crowd,’ Cat said. ‘Maybe they’d been preloading on the cheap vodka. James told me that’s what people do in Newcastle.’

He shook his head, pityingly. ‘Then they need to find a way to earn enough money to drink properly.’

‘You don’t have to be a big drinker to get on, though. James hardly drinks at all.’

John snorted like a pig. But whatever he said was lost in the growl of a massive articulated lorry sitting next to them at the lights. Cat remained unenlightened as to the true extent of her brother’s indulgence in the Oxford high life.

Once they could hear each other speak again, John launched into a detailed explanation of precisely how rubbish her brother’s borrowed car was. ‘I bet it hasn’t even got an MOT,’ he shouted as they turned on to the dual carriageway of the A1 and he stamped on the accelerator. Cat narrowed her eyes against the scourging wind and held her hair in a tight ponytail to prevent it whipping painfully against her face. She could barely make out the speedo, but she managed to discern that they had left the speed limit in the dust.

By the time they reached North Berwick, she was freezing and nauseous. She had never been happier to see a car park. ‘It’ll be ages before Jamie and Bella get here. We can get a head start on the drinks,’ he announced, making for the entrance of the gastropub he claimed produced the best fish and chips in East Lothian, according to his boss in London.

Cat caught up with him by the door and grabbed his sleeve. ‘I’m not going back with you if you have a drink,’ she said mutinously.

His lip curled in a sneer. ‘Then how will you get back?’

‘I’ll go with James. He doesn’t drink and drive. And neither should you.’