‘Why have you come here with me?’ Andromache said suddenly. Xanthe, standing beside the couch, saw her flinch and pull away from Helen, whose arm was around her shoulders. ‘I have never… I did not…’

‘Don’t speak,’ Helen said. ‘I know that we’ve never been the best friends. Well, that’s my punishment. I would have liked to know you better, but…’

‘I saw how he looked at you,” Andromache whispered. ‘Every man has the same look in his eyes. They are full of desire.’

‘Hector was always very kind to me,’ Helen said. ‘From the very first day. No one else was. Even you wouldn’t speak to me properly. And Cassandra… She actually ran away and hid from me, as though I were a plague carrier. Hector made me welcome. That’s all. Nothing more than that, truly. Also, you forget how much in love I was at that time.’

‘And later? Were you still in love with Paris later?’

‘Yes, of course I was… I am. There is no one but Paris for me. You know the story. That’s how Aphrodite has arranged it. We are all in all to each other.’

Silence fell. Xanthe realized that both Helen and Andromache knew this was not quite true, and yet neither of them was saying a word. The truth was: Paris tried his luck with everyone, and because he was so handsome, many, many women lay down from him. There wasn’t a child in the city who didn’t grow up knowing that. It had been common gossip as long as Xanthe could remember, and Marpessa had told her things… So Helen was lying to comfort Andromache. And if she is lying about that, Xanthe thought, she could be lying about Hector. Hector and Helen… Her mind refused to accept it. But anything was possible. Those arrows, like the one that had struck her when she laid her eyes on Alastor… Those arrows were everywhere, and there was little a person could do to avoid them. Xanthe turned her thoughts to Hector, trying to imagine him alive and with Helen, but the image of his bloodstained corpse sprang into her mind again. Whatever his feeelings for Helen had been, they were no longer of any importance.

‘I loved him,’ Andromache said. ‘If he could be alive again, I wouldn’t even mind him leaving my side and lying with you.’

‘You would,’ said Helen. ‘Of course you’d mind.’

‘Yes,’ Andromache said. ‘I would. I couldn’t bear it.’ She made her hands into fists and ground them into the sockets of her eyes. ‘However I imagine his body, it is a torture to me. I can’t stop seeing him…’

Helen put her arms around Andromache. ‘I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay all night, and all tomorrow, and for as long as you need me. You’ll never be alone.’