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THE transformation of the house for the dinner dance was breathtaking— considering that the place was rather breathtakingly beautiful even in normal mode.

Once again the vast, stone-flagged terrace was the main venue, but this time, instead of two long tables, many smaller round tables were grouped around an imported wooden dance floor.

There were flowers everywhere, on the tables and in standard wrought-iron vases. A canopy of magenta ribbons was looped above the dance floor and electric candles in tall sconces shed soft light.

A cascade of tiny flickering lights pricked the night as they outlined the jetty.

The band, more accurately a string quartet, its four members dressed in dinner suits with magenta velvet bow ties, was tuning up softly.

Alex gave Nicky a tour, then they sat on the staircase for a while, where they could look through the hall to the terrace.

‘It looks like an enchanted castle,’ Nicky said. ‘Will my dad be here tonight?’

‘Indeed he will, but I’m not sure w