 
## FREE AS A BIRD IN A HEALING GARDEN

By

### Patricia Matthew

Copyright 2013 by Patricia Matthew

This e-book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission of the author.

*

The book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.

*

Many thanks to Lisa, who encouraged me to publish this story. Without her help, it would be languishing on my computer.

Thanks also to Julie Armstrong Colton and Robert Graham who encouraged my early attempts at creative writing.

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

### Chapter 1

Summer 1999

It was the same dream. She was encircled by animals. They came closer and closer, their eyes glistening in the moonlight and she could see that each had two heads. The dogs were in charge and with both heads writhing, beckoned her to follow them. They took her along a damp and deserted alleyway where cobwebs brushed against her face. She screamed as a rat scuttled across her feet. At the end of the alleyway they reached an imposing but decrepit house. The door, which badly needed a new coat of paint was studded and there was an iron door knocker. She knew they wanted her to go in. She clasped the door knocker, then screamed as it turned into a hand, a hand with nails like talons. The iron hand clutched hers tightly. She pulled her hand away, stifling sobs and whimpering softly. One of the dogs nudged the door which creaked as it opened. She was met by a stale, unhealthy smell. Encouraged by the dogs, she made her way inside. By a shaft of moonlight through a window she could see a staircase. She went with the animals up the stairs, which seemed to be never ending until they finally reached the attic. In it there was a single piece of furniture. A chest of drawers made from solid oak. Filled with curiosity, although she had dreamed this dream many times, she opened the top drawer. In it was a baby, covered with blood and wrapped in a snow-white shawl. She had no idea if it was alive or dead. She opened the window, picked up the baby and carefully threw it out of the window and watched it fall.......

Kate woke up with a start, sweating profusely. She was curled up on the sofa and could hear Lucy crying upstairs. Glancing at her watch, she saw with alarm that it was almost two o'clock. Lucy needed changing. She was surprised they had not come. They had said they would be back in two days. Kate could not remember which day it was. She looked at the calendar on the wall but it did not tell her anything. Then she looked at the newspaper which had been delivered. It said Wednesday. So, she tore a small piece of paper off the writing pad, picked up a pen and wrote

Today is Wednesday

Yesterday was Tuesday

Tomorrow will be Thursday

She carefully folded the small piece of paper and stuffed it inside her bra for safe keeping. Then, she remembered that she needed to go and buy something for tea.

After changing Lucy, she bundled her in into the ancient Fiesta and drove to Jayne's house.

"Could you please look after Lucy for me for about half an hour?" she asked her friend. "I need to do some shopping and I'm not feeling too great. My brain's fuddled."

"No problem, I'd love to have her. You be as long as you like," Jayne replied.

After driving to the supermarket, Kate parked the car and looked round to make sure they were not following her. She then walked speedily to the entrance.

As she entered she saw the blood. It was everywhere. There were pools on the floor and the walls and shelves were daubed with it. Kate thought it was strange because nobody seemed to be bothered about it. They were just getting on with shopping. But one thing was certain. They were all whispering to each other about her and staring at her. She did her best to ignore them and made for the fruit and vegetables section. She picked up a Cos lettuce. It felt real enough and was nice and cool. A trolley stacked high with sliced loaves clanged as it was pushed past and made her jump.

She could not remember what she had planned to buy for tea so she put the lettuce down and stood stock still while she tried to think. Looking up, she saw that the security guard was staring at her now. What was the matter with everyone, she thought. Have I done something wrong? He was a very young security guard, callow-faced but trying desperately hard to look older than he was. She walked away from him, selected a cheese and onion quiche and put this into her basket, together with three strawberry yoghurts and two litres of milk but all the time she knew he was following her. She could hear his footsteps and heavy breathing. He caught up with her and took hold of her arm. She turned.

"Are you alright, Madam?" he asked. "You seem somewhat disturbed. What's wrong?"

"It's the blood, there's so much blood. Why isn't anyone doing anything about it? It's everywhere," she replied, panic stricken. "I'm so tired. If I go back home they'll be waiting for me. I've got to keep them guessing."

"You're imagining things. There's no blood," he replied, not quite knowing how to deal with the situation. "The mind plays funny tricks sometimes. Who'll be waiting for you?"

"I've got to give them the slip," she sobbed. "I can't sleep because of the dreams."

"Now you mustn't get upset. How about going through the checkout and then we can arrange for a taxi to take you home."

"No thanks. My car's in the car park."

She rushed to the nearest checkout point. A blood-smeared barrier said NO EXIT. I'm trapped, she thought. I'm never going to get out of here. She could see the security guard waiting for her at the other side of the barrier. Her mouth was dry and she had difficulty swallowing. She took her shopping out of the basket and placed it on the conveyor belt. "Peep-peep" said the checkout machine as each item passed over it.

By the time she was about to pay the cashier, her hands were trembling. She dropped her open purse on the floor in front of the kind-faced man waiting patiently behind her. He helped her pick up some coins.

"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm so clumsy."

*

When she reached Jayne's house, Lucy was happily playing with Jayne's children, Will and Millie.

"Thanks for looking after her," said Kate.

"No sweat. It's nice having a baby around sometimes, now my two are at school. Is everything okay, Kate? You look dreadful."

"You've reminded me that I'm late in picking up Jake. The poor lad will think

I've forgotten him," she said, grasping Lucy's hand tightly. "Bye, Jayne. See you tomorrow."

Lucy, sensing Kate's agitated mood, struggled as she was fastened into her seat belt and pushed her mother away.

"No go home!" she said, emphatically.

"Oh, Lucy, please don't be naughty. We're late as it is," she coaxed, near to tears. She drove faster than she should have and when she reached the school gates found Jake staring forlornly at his scuffed shoes.

"Where've you been?" he demanded. "I've been waiting ages, Mum."

"Oh, Jake. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I had to go shopping and then pick up Lucy from Jayne's house. The traffic was hectic."

He frowned as he climbed into the car.

"Are you alright, Mum?"

*

They came for her that evening while she was preparing the meal. Jake opened the door and they walked through to the kitchen.

"Just get your coat and make sure you bring your handbag . We'll arrange about your clothes later," said Mrs Robinson, holding on to Kate's upper arm with a vice-like grip. Lucy was in her high chair. Jake stood and looked at them. Kate struggled but Mrs Robinson's grip tightened even more.

"Don't make a scene," she whispered. "Think of the children."

Out of the corner of her eye Kate could see that Jake was crying.

"I've lost my Daddy and now I'm losing my Mummy as well," he sobbed.

"Everything's going to be okay," said Kate to her son. "I love you, Jake. I love both of you more than you can ever imagine. But, I've got to go with this lady, just for a little while. I'm sorry."

Mrs Robinson ushered her into the waiting car. The other social worker remained with the children.

"Where are you taking me?" asked Kate. "Am I going to prison? Have I done something wrong? I've been so tired lately."

"No, it's nothing like that. You've done nothing wrong. We just feel that you're not well enough to look after the children at the moment. You're very depressed and need a good rest. You've been under great strain recently. You must stop worrying and concentrate on getting better for the sake of the children."

"What will happen to them?"

"We've made arrangements for them to stay together with foster parents until you're well again. They're good people with children of their own. They'll be well looked after."

"I've tried hard to cope for the past few weeks but everything seems to have been closing in. I'm so tired."

"We'll be getting in touch with your parents. Hopefully, they'll be travelling up from Sussex within the next few days. Once they're here, they'll be able to see the children regularly."

"Thank goodness Jake and Lucy are going to be together," whispered Kate as the car drove away.

*

When she came to later that evening, Kate was lying in bed, facing a locker. On it was the name, Mary O'Brien. They've got everything mixed up, she thought. They think I'm someone else. It's all a mistake. I shouldn't be here. I must tell them who I really am.

But, it was impossible to raise her head, let alone call out. There was a hell of a din. Someone was either clanging cymbals or hitting dustbin lids together. At the centre of the ward was a long table. On it were lying what looked like enormous spears. Someone will probably kill me during the night, she thought, as she drifted into oblivion.

*

Through a psychedelic haze a voice was shouting, "Wakey-wakey. Rise and shine, ladies. Show a leg."

Kate had difficulty opening her eyes. Her head felt as if a tiny man with a pickaxe had wormed his way inside and was hacking away.

"Oh, my God! What's happening?" she exclaimed.

"Wake up, Kate," said a calm, soothing voice. "Slip on your dressing gown and come and see Doctor McKinnon."

Kate looked at the middle-aged nurse who was gently easing her out of bed. It was the same nurse who had been on reception when she was brought in.

"I like your face," she said. "It's a clever, mobile face. I'm crazy, aren't I?"

Nurse Ritchie smiled as she took her arm.

### Chapter 2

The nurse took Kate into a small room to meet Luciano McKinnon, the psychiatrist who had been on call the previous evening when she had been admitted. Kate looked at him. She thought he looked very strange. His face was large like a moon. His mouth was not smiling but looked as if it should be. This is how he appeared to Kate but in reality he was uncommonly handsome in a rugged sort of way. It is amazing how drugs can distort ones perception. He had inherited his Italian mother's dark, smouldering eyes and had the kind of face which started off handsome and gained character as it aged. He also gave Kate the impression that he was tired. That makes two of us, she thought. What's your excuse? Overwork or is something not quite right in your life too?

"Good morning, Mrs Hazelton," he said. "Please sit down." He pointed to a large, upholstered chair, all the while continuing to write at great speed. He gave a sigh, put down his pen and surveyed Kate with interest. She wondered why he was staring at her.

"How are you this morning?" he asked. "From all accounts you were very lively when you were brought in yesterday evening."

"I can't remember much about yesterday, except having to empty the contents of my handbag. After that, everything's a big blur and now I've the most excruciating headache."

"That's to be expected. You had to be heavily sedated. Apparently it took four people to hold you down at one point." He smiled. "Now, I'd like to know if anything unusual has happened recently. Have you by any chance had an accident? The nurses say you talked incessantly about blood and a disturbing dream."

Well, about a week ago, I was walking around the house barefoot and decided that I wanted to move the sofa. That was when the accident happened. The nail on my big toe, the right one, had grown rather long. Anyway, somehow or other it got caught underneath the sofa and was almost completely ripped off. There was a lot of blood. I had to leave the children with a friend and I drove myself to the hospital where they removed the nail completely." Kate noticed that he was writing furiously so she went on with her story.

"They bandaged me up but the blood seeped through. It was such a mess. Not long after that I began to have this recurrent dream, well nightmare really. It got so bad I tried to keep busy during the night so that I wouldn't fall asleep," she continued, blowing her nose. "That meant that by the time I'd taken Jake, my son to school next morning and put the baby down for a nap, I'd collapse on the sofa."

"Tell me about the dream."

Kate told him about the deserted house, the animals and the baby which she threw out of the window. He continued to write on his notepad, then looked intently at her and smiled.

"I think that's enough for today, Mrs Hazelton," he said. "Go and rest now."

*

The night following her first day in hospital, Kate was awakened by banging and shouting. She glanced at the wall clock. It was just after two o'clock.

"What on earth is going on?" she said to the woman in the bed next to her, who was also awake and sitting up.

"She was brought in about half an hour ago. I'm amazed that you didn't wake sooner. They've put her in the padded cell. Won't stop trying to hurt herself. High as kite she is. You wait, she'll start singing 'Ave Maria' again soon."

Kate, although very tired, waited patiently. A short time later, a strong, contralto voice gave an amazing rendition of the said song.

"Do you think she's a professional?" asked Kate. "That's some voice."

"Dunno but she is good isn't she?"

They heard the padded cell door open. There was shouting and then everything went quiet.

"They must have given her something," said Kate, before settling down under the covers again. "See you in the morning."

*

The 'singer' introduced herself to Kate after breakfast the following morning.

"Hi, I'm Cassie, short for Cassandra," she said.

Kate looked at her and smiled. The only way she could describe the woman who was standing in front of her would be to say that compared to herself and the rest of the patients she appeared to be in the wrong place. The woman reminded her of a beautiful butterfly which had somehow found itself amongst a group of somewhat dowdy moths. Cassie was wearing a most unusual robe. Wavy swirls of pink, mauve, black, white and maroon, seemed to be competing for attention and the fact that she was in hospital did not seem to deter her for she was wearing an excessive amount of eye makeup. Kate also noticed that she had long, glossy, black hair.

"Hello, I'm Kate," she replied," and if you don't mind me saying so, you have the kind of hair I wish I'd been blessed with. How do you keep it so glossy? What's the secret? Mine's so dry these days."

Cassie grinned. "There's no secret and don't eat your heart out. It's a wig," she replied, tearing it off to display a punk-like crop of spiky, blonde hair underneath. "I always wear it when I'm depressed, which is most of the time these days."

Kate suppressed a smile. Cassie put the wig back on and glanced at Kate's left hand.

"You're married, I see. At least you're wearing a wedding ring but that doesn't necessarily mean that you're still together. Or does it? Do you have a husband who visits you?"

"This is only my second day here and in answer to your question, no he doesn't. He's no idea I'm here. He left me and the kids a few months ago. He works for some centre in Europe but I haven't a clue where." She paused, pulled out a chair and sat down. "I knew he was playing around the moment he started bringing me flowers. Whenever James felt guilty about anything, he always brought me flowers. Most women get them because their blokes love them."

"Men are curious , aren't they?" Cassie replied. "Take mine, for instance. Okay, he was married and we were having an affair but he told me that he loved me and that he would leave his wife 'when the time was right'. The time never was right and now that I'm pregnant he doesn't want to know."

"Are you going to keep the baby?"

"I haven't really got any option. I tried to get rid of it but everything went dreadfully wrong and then I went crazy and I ended up here. If I do decide to keep it how will I manage? Every time I look at it I'll be reminded of him. I don't think I'll be able to cope. I still love him."

"Red roses mean I love you, don't they? I had red roses in my wedding bouquet. Red roses and white carnations. The bridesmaids wore red velvet," said Kate, sadly. "It was a winter wedding you see. Nothing stays the same. Everything changes."

"Come on," said Cassie. "We're both getting morbid. Don't let's hang around here any more. The clatter from the washing up is doing my head in."

Kate looked round the dining room. "We're obviously in the way here anyway," she replied. "I'll show you where the day room is."

### Chapter 3

The pain from Emma Ferguson's bruised right arm woke her as she turned over towards her husband. A quick glance at him confirmed that Bill would not miss her when she slipped out of bed and left the room. He was lying on his back, his mouth wide open, snoring fitfully .Quietly, she put on her robe and shuffled off to the bathroom, splashed her face with cold water and examined the bruise. "Not too bad this time," she muttered to herself, taking note that she would need to wear a long sleeved blouse later that morning.

She made her way downstairs, holding her breath when the sixth stair creaked. She listened and to her relief everything was quiet so she continued down to the kitchen where she made herself a comforting mug of hot chocolate. After swallowing a couple of painkillers, she sat in the rocking chair for a few minutes with her eyes closed, then glanced at the clock. It was almost four. Bathsheba, curled up in her basket in the corner, opened one eye, got up, stretched and walked over to Emma, her tail vibrating. Emma rose from the chair and opened the door, allowing the dog into the garden to sample the early morning air. The scruffy, brown and black pooch, of medium height and uncertain parentage had been rescued by Emma from a nearby sanctuary when eleven weeks old. Bathsheba and five other puppies had been found abandoned in a cardboard box in a supermarket car park. She was now the ripe old age of eight and during those years had turned into a loyal companion and friend to all the family.

Emma followed her into the garden and clutching the mug of hot chocolate, sat down on the bench inside the pergola. Almost immediately she heard the birds begin to sing. She was witnessing the Dawn Chorus. The garden bordered onto a country lane and there was a small wood nearby. After a few minutes there were so many birds singing, it was impossible to identify them. Emma sat and revelled at the incredible sound, thinking that this must be happening all over the world at different times for the chorus moves with the early morning light, like a gigantic wave over the earth.

Bathsheba trundled over and sat at her feet. Emma stroked her from head to tail. The dog looked up and wagged her tail. They sat there companionably until Emma began to feel the cold.

Back in the kitchen, she thought about the day ahead. Things would be busy at the shop. It was Saturday and she had new stock arriving from the Isle of Wight. Knowing that she would be unable to get to sleep again, she settled for doing some much needed ironing, before going up for a bath at around six o'clock.

After a refreshing soak, she dressed, brushed her hair and applied her makeup. Before going downstairs, she knocked on Holly's door and popped her head in to say she was about to prepare breakfast. Holly's response was to pull the duvet over her face. Bill was showering in the bathroom, singing tunelessly as always.

Five minutes later he sat down at the table and Emma decided that this was the moment to talk about something which had been bothering her for some time. If she did not act quickly, the newspaper which the paper boy had just delivered, would be propped in front of the jar of marmalade. Bill would then completely ignore her and all she would get from him would be a grunt.

"Bill, I've been meaning to talk to you about something which has been worrying me for some time now. Who on earth is that young lad Holly's been hanging around with recently?"

"I don't know but I've seen them together quite a lot in the village. Perhaps we should ask her to introduce him to us."

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea. I don't want him coming here. He doesn't look like our sort at all."

"He's probably not that bad though I must admit he does look different. Gothic I think they call it. It's probably just a phase she's going through.," he replied. "She's not so bad as far as fifteen year olds go. At least she's not on drugs or anything horrendous like that. Then we really would have to worry. I reckon she's just experimenting. I'll have a word with her later."

Although she was a source of constant worry, Bill was fond of his younger daughter, who reminded him of himself at the same age. He had been headstrong too. No doubt she was merely making a statement by seeing this new person. In other words she was a typical teenager.

"Umm, the coffee smells good," he said, pouring himself a large mug of it. He reached for some toast spreading it thinly with reduced fat spread and marmalade and took a bite.

"This marmalade's nicer. Where did you get it?"

Emma was about to tell him where she had purchased it and that it was organic marmalade, when Holly, scowling, stormed into the kitchen and sat down at the table. They both stared at the T-shirt which she was wearing.

PARENTS HAVE A LOT

TO ANSWER FOR

"Is that T-shirt for our personal benefit or the world in general?" asked Bill.

"Where's the juice?" she replied.

"Where it usually is, in the fridge," said Emma.

Holly walked over to the other side of the kitchen and Bill and Emma were able to see that on the back of the T-shirt was:

DON'T ASK

"How to make friends and influence people," said Bill. "Do all your friends feel like that?"

Holly remained silent.

"Oh, Holly, please say you're not going down the road wearing that," said Emma, with panic in her voice. "Where on earth did you buy it?"

"Jason, a lad I met at a disco, prints them in a shed at the bottom of his parents' garden. You can have anything you like for a fiver."

Good grief, thought Bill. What will the next one say.?

"What will the neighbours think? " continued Emma. "It's all right for you. You don't have to make conversation with them like I do."

"So what? Who cares about the neighbours anyway. I certainly don't. Most of them are nothing but a bunch of old fogies."

Bill and Emma were silent while she finished her cereal. Then Holly stood up and said:

"I'm off to take Bathsheba for her walk. Come along old girl," she said to the sleeping bundle of fur. Bathsheba opened her eyes and when she saw Holly pick up her lead, wagged her tail and rushed over.

"We'll see you around lunch time. We're going round to Jason's house. I'm getting another T-shirt done, you'll be pleased to know."

The two of them walked along the hallway. The front door slammed. Bill and Emma stared at one another in despair. The phone rang.

"Will you answer that or shall I?" asked Emma.

"Can you? I'm still eating."

Emma was about to say that she was still washing the dishes but thought better of it. After all, he seemed in a reasonably good mood this morning and she had no wish to alter that. She wiped her hands on the towel and walked through to the hallway.

Bill poured himself more coffee and was debating whether his diet would allow him to have the last slice of toast in the rack, when Emma came rushing back.

"That was a call from social services. It was about Kate. Apparently she's had some kind of breakdown and been put in a psychiatric ward," she gasped. "Lucy and Jake are with foster parents. I said we'd be there in a few days. That should give us long enough to make arrangements, don't you think?"

Bill did not reply, just nodded agreement. His eyes filled with tears. Looking at Emma, he said, quietly "Poor Kate. She's been through so much. We must get up there as soon as we can."

Later that morning, to Bill's irritation, Emma was rushing around like a head-less chicken. She was a tense, nervous woman, prone to migraines and never at her best when coping with a crisis.

"For heaven's sake, woman," he said. "How am I supposed to keep a clear head when you're acting like this?"

"But, there's so much to arrange. I don't know where to start. What will people say when we tell them why we're going away?"

"We can just say our daughter's ill. There's no need to give any details. What's it got to do with anyone else anyway?"

"You're right, of course. We'll have to tell Holly the truth though. I hope she doesn't want to come with us. She's too much of an embarrassment right now."

"Yes, I think it's best that she stays here. Then she can look after Bathsheba instead of us having to fork out for boarding kennels."

"We can't leave her on her own, Bill. She's too young for such responsibility and we've no idea how long we'll be away. We'll have to get someone to stay here with her. The only problem is who?"

They both thought about Ginnie.

"I wonder what Ginnie's doing at the moment. She's home from her travels, isn't she? Holly's always got on well with her," replied Bill. "I don't suppose she'd mind."

"Well, you'd better phone and see if it's possible before we make any plans."

Bill went off to phone his sister while Emma sat down and started making more lists of things to be done. She was the kind of woman who was always making lists. It seemed to give her some sort of security or maybe it was the satisfaction of crossing off items once they had been attended to. Bill had always been amused by this list making. Kate did it too.

"Well, that's one less thing to worry about," said Bill, as he came back into the kitchen. "Ginnie's able to help us and is looking forward to seeing Holly again. I wonder why those two get on so well. She'll be arriving on Saturday morning."

*

About half an hour after he had phoned his sister, Bill went off to see a client. A number of jobs had to be dealt with before their departure and this was one of them. Mrs Grayson had been recently widowed. She did not wish to move from a house which held so many memories of her late husband but did not want to have to cope with the extensive garden which accompanied it. Not wishing to incur the expense of employing a gardener each week she had contacted Bill's well established landscape gardening business. She had explained to Bill that she wanted it to have a makeover so that she could maintain it herself without too much difficulty .She was not that keen on gardening and planned to spend no more than a couple of hours each weekend, pottering around doing odd jobs.

"I'd like plenty of gravel, some boulders, a water feature and some interesting specimen plants," she has said to him. "The patio and seating area can stay as it is, oh, and can you get rid of the turf. I don't want to have to spend hours mowing."

She had asked Bill to draw up some plans with an estimate of the cost and get back to her. He had spent the last couple of days getting some ideas together and had these in his brief case, on the passenger seat.

He glanced out of the window and in the wing mirror caught a glimpse of a motor bike trying to overtake the red Mondeo immediately behind him. The road bent sharply but finally Bill himself was overtaken by the motor bike as it buzzed in and out of the traffic like a demented fly. He glanced at the horizon and at the threatening clouds ahead. There would be rain later.

Seeing as he employed three capable and experienced men, who were also very reliable, his business was the kind which would run smoothly without him for a few weeks, providing he was kept up to date on how things were progressing. Visiting Kate was therefore not too much of a problem.

*

Back at the house, Emma was busy making lunch for Bill and Holly. She had prepared sandwiches, some salad and there was cold soup in the fridge if they wanted to heat it up. She left a note under a magnet on the fridge door, telling Bill that he would have to break the news to Holly as she, herself, had a mountain of paperwork to attend to at the shop, which needed to be sorted out before they could leave and travel north.

Holly arrived home with Bathsheba, about ten minutes before Bill and was already helping herself to something to eat, still wearing the offending T-shirt.

"What's this news that you have to break to me?" she asked while munching a sandwich.

"Your sister's ill. It seems she's had some kind of breakdown so we're going up there for a few weeks, or until her condition has improved." He paused before continuing. "I've arranged for Aunt Ginnie to come and stay here with you while we're away so you'll have company." He sat down at the table. "We didn't think you'd want to come with us, things being the way they are," he continued. "Anyway, we knew you wouldn't want Bathsheba to be put into kennels."

"Too right, she'd pine away. I'm glad it's Ginnie whose coming and not someone else. She's cool. When's all this happening?"

"Your aunt's arriving around lunchtime on Saturday. We'll be leaving soon afterwards. As you can imagine your mother and I are almost frantic with worry about Kate. Jake and Lucy have had to be placed with foster parents."

"Poor kids, that's awful. When I last spoke to Kate she seemed to be coping really well after James had left. She told me that she was relieved when he'd finally gone."

"Did she? Well, obviously she was putting on a brave face, something which grownups tend to do. You'll understand when you're older," he added. "There must have been more going on under the surface than anyone realised."

### Chapter 4

In spite of the fact that for most of the night he had been unable to sleep, as Luciano McKinnon prepared his breakfast, there was a spring in his step. He sat down at the breakfast bar and as he sipped his coffee, pondered the situation. He knew he was in love for he had lain awake for most of the night, thinking about Kate Hazelton. The fact that he was due to see her again later on in the morning, filled him with excitement. Up to this point in his life he had always remained sceptical about what others described as 'love at first sight'. Now he knew what they had been talking about for he had actually experienced it himself.

Of course the feeling was not mutual. Not at the moment anyway. Not while she was drugged up to the eyeballs. How could it be? She was his patient. In his more rational moments he wondered what had happened to him. Was it possible to meet someone and know immediately that this was 'the one'? The one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with?

It was a matter of course that he continually encountered disturbed people. That was his job. What then, was so special about Kate? To many she would seem quite ordinary and she was a touch overweight. When he had first met her, she was heavily sedated but even so there was something special about her .Great intelligence gleamed behind her beautiful, grey-green eyes which he found so disturbingly attractive. However, she was ill and his job was to make her well again. He was aware that he had to tread carefully as he was the one in control. It would be unprofessional to take advantage of her vulnerability in such a situation. He knew he had to be patient as far as his feelings were concerned.

Over the past few months, although his hospital colleagues sensed all was not well, his reserved nature had made it impossible for them to pry into his affairs. While eating his toast, he heard mail being pushed through the letter box. Leaving the breakfast bar, he walked speedily along the hallway and picked up what had been delivered. There were the usual bills and a letter addressed in Rachel's scrawl. What did she want now? He tore open the envelope and read:

Dear Luciano,

Why won't you answer my letters? We need to talk about divorce. I mean nothing to you now and Dan and I are very happy together and want to get married......

Filled with exasperation, he tore the letter into shreds and threw it in the waste bin.

"Bitch!" he muttered. "You and your toy-boy. Why do you always have to rub my nose in it?" Then he thought once more about Kate.

*

While Kate was washing her hair in the bathroom, she could hear Cassie retching in the nearby toilet. After a final rinse, she noticed with some concern that the plughole was once again blocked with hairs.

"Great! If this goes on much longer I'll soon be bald," she muttered to herself as she removed the hairs and put them into the waste bin. Wrapping a towel, turban-style round her head, she walked into the corridor. The toilet flushed and an ashen-faced Cassie shuffled out. The starkness of the jet-black wig made her pallor more pronounced. When she saw Kate, she gave the shadow of a grin.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked.

"No, I feel like death."

"Come to the dining room with me and have some breakfast."

"I'll most probably throw up over you."

"That's a risk I'll have to take. Surely a cup of tea won't hurt you," said Kate, trying to be helpful. "You really should try and eat something plain too," she added, remembering her own pregnancies. "How about a piece of toast?"

They sat down and Kate helped herself to cornflakes and milk. "I'm not having sugar any more," she said. "I reckon they're putting poison in it. It could be the salt of course. They're putting it in something. Maybe I should avoid that," she continued. "I'm not sure."

"Good grief. No wonder you're in here," said Cassie. "I thought I had problems. You're completely off yer trolley."

*

The new medication which Doctor McKinnon had prescribed was making Kate cry and later on that morning she could not stop looking at a photograph of Jake and Lucy which she had asked Mrs Robinson to bring her from home. It was no longer in its frame. The nurse had taken that away. Cassie had explained why. They thought she might try to harm herself with the glass. Tears poured down her cheeks as she clutched the studio portrait to her chest and rocked to and fro.

"What've you got there?" asked Nurse Rowlands as she brought in yet another bunch of flowers. Kate showed her.

"That's a really lovely photograph," she said as she arranged the flowers in a vase. "Your children are beautiful. You need to quit crying though and concentrate of getting better so that you can get back to them." She looked thoughtfully at Kate. "Have you remembered that you've another appointment with Doctor McKinnon at eleven fifteen? He won't want to see you in that state. You need to buck yourself up." She walked hurriedly out of the ward.

After a cup of coffee and a chat with Cassie, by the time she was due to see him, Kate was feeling heaps better.

*

"How are you today?" he asked as she walked into the room. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, I had a restful night thank you. The nightmares appear to have stopped but I seem to be crying most of the time now."

"That's most probably due to your medication which we may have to change yet again."

Kate stopped studying her hands and looked up at him. "Tell me, Doctor McKinnon, who looks after _you_ when you're sick?"

"The vet," he replied, mischievously.

Kate could not help blushing when she realised he was flirting with her. He put his pen down and looked deeply into her eyes. They reminded him of deep, dark pools. He wished he could drown in them. She looked away, nervously and her eyes wandered around the room, settling on the watercolour painting on the wall to his right. She rose from the chair and walked over to it.

"This is an original isn't it? I love watercolour paintings. The delicacy of them. What a lovely cottage. Where is it?"

"My father painted that picture. The cottage is where I used to live when I was a child. He was a most successful artist right up until last year when he had a stroke."

"Oh dear, I am sorry. How sad to have such a wonderful talent and then lose it."

"Yes, he's now a shadow of his former self."

"I dabbled in watercolours for a short time but I wasn't much good. Writing is what we do in our family. Both my younger sister and I have written short stories since we were small children." She walked back to the chair and at down again.

"Kate, I need to know as much background information as possible if I'm to help you get better," he said. "What was it that caused your marriage to break down? Was it anything in particular?"

"My husband travelled abroad a great deal, it was part of his work you see. He wasn't keen for us to have a second child. I think he wanted me to get back to nursing but I insisted because I didn't want my son, Jake to be lonely." She pushed away the hair which had fallen across her eyes, uncertain what to say next. "Well, after Lucy was born, he began to be away from home more and more frequently. I hardly saw him. It was tiring for me looking after the children on my own. I loved James but on the occasions when he was home I was too tired to be a proper wife to him. In fact, that part of our marriage ceased to exist at all. He'd always been an incorrigible flirt so I suppose it was inevitable that he would find someone else." She started to cry. He handed her a box of tissues and waited while she blew her nose.

"I blame myself really," she continued. "Maybe I was being paranoid but once I discovered that he was having an affair, I felt that he was doing as much as possible to send me over the edge."

"Can you be more specific?"

"I'll give you an example. One day he told me about an article which he'd read in a magazine colour supplement where it said that if you were in a totally red room you would eventually go mad. I didn't think about it too much at the time but two days later, while I was preparing vegetables for our evening meal, James came home with a wall clock."

"Go on."

"You can guess what colour the clock was, can't you?"

"Red?"

"Yes, although the face and numerals were white the surround was a deep red. He hung it up on a hook directly in front of me so that it was framed by the white net curtain behind." She paused, deep in thought. "This clock had the noisiest tick I had ever heard. It made me constantly look at it. I felt I was going mad and told him I didn't want it there any more. I asked him to take it down. He laughed at me and walked away so I had to remove it myself and hang it on the far wall."

"Umm. What are your feelings about him now that he's gone? Do you still love him, Kate?"

She looked steadily at him before answering.

"Well, you can't sweep years of marriage away under the carpet just like that," she replied. "I suppose part of me still has affection for him because of the children but let me put it this way. I don't like or respect him any more."

Luciano looked out of the window and at the cars and people below. So many people, so many different lives. All with problems no doubt. His problem was what to say next. He turned back and looked at her.

"You're young, Kate," he said finally. "You'll meet someone else in the future whom you'll feel you can really trust."

"From the way I'm feeling at the moment, I very much doubt it. That's the last thing on my mind. Jake and Lucy are all that matter now. I'm going to devote my life to them. I owe it to them. " She paused and looked at him. "Which sign of the Zodiac were you born under, Doctor McKinnon?"

"Scorpio. You don't believe all that rubbish, do you?"

"Sometimes. I think we have character traits according to our birth signs. My sign is Pisces. We're a complicated lot. We fervently believe that love will be a completely spiritual union so if we suffer a love betrayal, we die spiritually. Regeneration is extremely rare, apparently. The original, trusting, believing state of mind is seldom recaptured."

"I see. You certainly do take it seriously, don't you?" he replied, sadly. Thoughts raced through his head. Was it possible to die from unrequited love? He studied her face and then said quietly:

"That's the end of our session for today, Kate. You've been most helpful. I'll review your medication. For the moment, however, rest as much as possible. You won't have much chance of doing that once you're back with the children."

*

Back in the ward, Cassie sat on her bed and opened the letter which Nurse Ritchie had handed her. However much she tried, she could not read it properly. Everything was blurred though she did recognise the slant of the writing enough to realise that it was from John. She wandered off to look for Kate and found her in the day room, sitting in the old wicker chair, reading a newspaper.

"Hey, Kate, could you give me a hand with reading this?" she asked. "The tablets which I've been taking must have done something to my eyes. Everything's blurred. I know it's from my fella but I can't make out what he's written."

"Sure, I hope it's not too personal," Kate replied as Cassie handed the letter to her. "Let me see....he says he's sorry about what's happened....he's coming to see you soon....he loves you."

"I don't think I can cope with this. I don't want to see him. What am I going to do, Kate?"

*

After lunch, while everyone was waiting for their medication, Kate's eyes began to feel heavy. The worn chair in which she was seated was heavily upholstered and so comfortable she had no difficulty dozing off.......

....."The toilet door at the end of the corridor is closed," said Kate. "I think someone might have either collapsed in there or barricaded themselves in."

The nurse rushed out of the ward. The cabinet was unlocked so Kate was able to find what she was looking for and slip it into her pocket. The bathroom across from the ward was vacant. Once inside, she wedged a chair under the door handle. The bathroom suite was white, as were the tiles. A flimsy yellow curtain was draped skimpily across the open window and fluttered in the breeze.

She knew exactly what to do. She plunged the lancet into the left side of her neck, hitting the carotid artery with ease and was prepared for what happened next. Blood burst out in spurts as her heart pumped but she was unprepared for just how much impact it would have on her. She was totally mesmerised.

The blood gushed out, hitting the white tiles and ricocheted back over her face and body in a fine spray. Soon this will stop, she thought. Then there was nothing but blackness. She felt pressure on her shoulders and got the impression that she was sitting on something which moved her through some kind of tunnel at great speed. The environment became misty and beautiful music was cascading everywhere. Kate smiled. The joy and warmth she felt was unbelievable. At the end of the tunnel innumerable figures were beckoning to her. A tiny baby lay in a crib, smiling up at her. She put her hand in the crib. The baby clutched her fingers. As Kate looked down she saw that her hand resembled marble. A white dove flew down, alighting on her thumb. She bent down and kissed its beak. It flew off and settled on the crib.

She walked towards the figures now behind a barrier. A glowing Presence appeared.

"Is this Paradise?" asked Kate.

"Yes. You cannot stay here. You are here before your time. There is no way we can send you back. You must go on a journey with Archangel Gabriel."

"But, I want to stay here in this beautiful garden with all these lovely birds and flowers."

"That is impossible. Come, Gabriel."

Gabriel took her by the hand. They flew up over mountains towards what seemed to Kate like infinity.

"This is to be your new home," said Gabriel. "You will be quite safe here."

Within seconds he had vanished. Kate looked around and found she was not alone. Another figure was trudging towards her through the snow. She climbed over a stile, catching her left hand on a nail. She smiled as a single drop of blood fell onto the snow. She looked up at the approaching figure and to her amazement saw Doctor McKinnon , waving. In the distance someone was shouting....

"Kate, wake up. It's time for your medication."

Kate stirred in the chair in which she was slumped and looked at Cassie who was sitting next to her, poking her in the ribs.

"I've just had the strangest dream," she said. "Well, more of a nightmare really. I dreamed I topped myself and God sent me somewhere other than Heaven. It wasn't Hell, at least I don't think so. It was very cold and guess what? Doctor McKinnon was there too. What do you think it all means, Cassie?"

"You don't fancy him, do you?"

"Well, one of the nurses told me he's half Italian and you must admit, he is rather dishy. I don't know. Maybe subconsciously I do a little," she replied, as Nurse Ritchie gave her the new medication.

### Chapter 5

After an exhausting day at the hospital, Luciano arrived home and enjoyed a couple of stiff drinks while listening to the radio. He closed his eyes and thought about the day's events. Then, hunger got the better of him and he made his way through to the kitchen. It was only then that he noticed that his answer phone was blinking. He pressed the play button and was told that he had two messages. The first was from a work colleague asking if he wanted to join him for a drink later. The second was more worrying. It was from Stuart Carson, an old family friend who also happened to be his father's G.P.

"...Luciano, it's Stuart. I need you to contact me immediately you get this message. Use my mobile number will you as I'm not sure where I'll be. Speak to you later"....

When Stuart answered his call it was obvious that he was in a very crowded place. Probably the pub, he thought.

"...Hi, it's Luciano. Sorry I missed your call. It's been murder at the hospital and I've been rushed off my feet. Why did you call me? Is something wrong?"....

"...Luciano, thank heavens it's you. I didn't want to leave a message on your answering machine. That would have been too impersonal. I'm sorry to be the bringer of bad news but it's your father. He had a second stroke this morning, a massive one this time. They've put him in Intensive Care. How soon can you get here?....

"...Oh, my Lord, I should've been in touch with him more often but I've been so preoccupied since Rachel left. Did you know we'd split up?"....

"...Yes, your father did mention it a few weeks ago. He seemed very upset about it"....

"...I'll have to find out when the trains run. I've had a fair amount to drink so driving is out of the question. As soon as I've arranged for cover at work, I'll be on my way. I'll contact you again and tell you when the train's due to arrive"....

*

A couple of hours later, after boarding the train, Luciano, in between trying to snooze, found his mind wandering back to his childhood. As well as being a popular and successful artist, his father, Andrew, had been passionate about Thomas Hardy novels and the Dorset countryside where Hardy lived and worked. It was for this reason that Andrew had brought Isabella, his new Italian bride to Dorset after their marriage in Venice. They had both fallen in love with the cottage built from Purbeck stone where Luciano was later born.

It was here that Luciano had spent his formative years. The cottage was near a cove and he had attended the village school. He remembered his father taking him out in a rowing boat round the cove and together they had gazed at the sea birds. Andrew was very wise and knew most of their names. All that Luciano could remember now were Black-Headed Gulls but on one memorable occasion, when it was particularly windy they had seen a Black-Browed Albatross.

"Now, there's a rare sight in these parts, Luciano," Andrew had said. "I wonder what it's doing here. There are many different species of albatross but that's just about the only one we're likely to see on these shores."

The albatross settled on an outcrop of rock. It was the most enormous bird Luciano had ever seen. It's wings were so wide. Not only was it capable of powerful flight, it could glide too, soaring with stiffly held wings. How he had loved those special moments with his father and envied the birds and their freedom. He swallowed to remove the lump in his throat as the memories came flooding back.

One morning at school, just after his seventh birthday, his teacher, Miss Prenderghast, had come into the classroom and asked them all a question. She was tall and slim with blonde, curly hair and very pretty. The question had been, "If you could have just one special wish, what would it be?"

Luciano had thought for a moment or two and then because nobody else had, he put his hand up.

"Yes, Luciano?"

"Fly, Miss."

"You want to fly in an aeroplane, do you?"

"No, Miss. My mother's Italian, I go to Venice by plane every summer. I mean fly like the birds."

Glancing out of the window, he calculated that it would be roughly another hour before the train reached its destination. Isabella, his mother, would have to be told about what had happened. He was the only one who knew of her whereabouts so it would be up to him to personally contact her. She had a right to know.

Isabella had never really settled after Andrew brought her to England. She was happy enough at first because she was kept busy redecorating the cottage and tending the garden and Luciano was born a year after their marriage. He was a beautifully placid child whom they both adored but as he grew older she became more and more withdrawn. Andrew thought this would pass and that everything would improve but it was not long before Luciano sensed she was unhappy. She no longer smiled. This made the small boy unhappy too. He wondered if he had done something to upset her but when he questioned her she gave him a massive hug and said that she loved him very much.

Then the rows started each evening after Luciano had gone to bed. He remembered listening at the top of the stairs to their raised voices. On one particular evening, the evening before she left, he had heard his mother crying.

"Mama mia. I want to go home, Andrew. I can't bear it here any longer. I need some warmth and passion in my life or I shall just wither away. I'm going back to Venice."

His father had not replied. Everything went quiet. Luciano had crept back to bed and fallen asleep.

*

The morning after the big row, Isabella had come into Luciano's room, put her arms around him and told him that she was leaving.

"I love you, Luciano," she said. "Always remember that. But, I need to go home to Venice. I miss my Italian family. I need passion."

Luciano had clung to her,sobbing as though his heart would break. "What about Daddy? Don't you love him any more? And, what about the plants in the conservatory? Who will look after them?"

"You must look after them now, Luciano. Promise me you will. The Passifloras will not survive if they are not well cared for."

He nodded wordlessly. She smelled so beautiful when her hair brushed against his cheek as she kissed him. It was a smell he would never forget.

"Be a good boy for your father. I'll write to you every week, Bambino. Ciao."

He heard the taxi arrive and the sound of his mother's voice as she left. After a short time he washed and dressed then went downstairs where his father was preparing breakfast. An appetising smell of toast and freshly brewed coffee was wafting through the cottage. His father was sitting at the large, rectangular, pine table, positioned in the centre of the room. He looked sad and tired.

"Why's Mama gone?" he asked.

Andrew shook his head. "I don't know, Luciano. With her Latin temperament she probably needs a sweeter life than I can give her."

Luciano filled the small watering can and trotted out to the conservatory. His mother had told him all about the Passifloras or Passion Flower plants. How the parts of the flower suggested the instruments of Christ's Passion or Crucifixion. The stigmas suggested the three nails, the corona the crown of thorns and the anthers the five wounds. The hand-shaped leaves were the hands of his persecutors and the tendril, the whip with which he was scourged.

*

Later on that morning, during break time,he stayed behind when the other children went out to play.

"What does passion mean?" he asked Miss Prenderghast.

She looked surprised, then reached into her bookshelf and handed him a dictionary.

"Why don't you look the word up?" she replied. "You know how to use a dictionary, don't you?"

"How do you spell it, Miss?"

She wrote the word on a piece of paper and handed it to him. He systematically thumbed his way through the dictionary just as he had been taught. When he found what he was looking for he read carefully......

......Very strong feeling, especially anger or love......the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ...... He was still confused. Did his mother want to be crucified?

*

Luciano was crying as he wandered across the sand of the cove. The albatross sitting on a large boulder, eyed him gravely.

" _Why are you crying?"_

" _My Mama'_ s gone away to Venice and I want to be with her. She said she _'_ s gone to find passion."

" _I will try and help you find her. My name is Alphonsia. Hop on my back. We will follow a ship."_

Alphonsia grew larger and larger or maybe he grew smaller. Luciano was not sure. He clung on tightly as Alphonsia soared into the air. He snuggled his nose into her plumage. It was warm and had a nice smell.

They flew faster and faster and went higher and higher until they were near the clouds. Before them was a giant peach and as they flew closer, different coloured passion flowers were bobbing all around. He tried to catch them but they were too elusive. The giant peach looked so inviting, he took a bite. It scalded his mouth and fire came out of his lips.

"There _'_ s Venice," said Alphonsia. Luciano looked down and saw the familiar back-to-front S-shaped canal and all the little islands.

"I must leave you now," she said and before his eyes slowly transformed herself into a black and white glider. Luciano found himself clinging to the tapering fuselage. He was on top of the cockpit. He could see the pilot _'_ s seat but it was impossible to get in. The glider nose dived and suddenly Venice looked different. The canals were nothing but blue ribbon and the buildings lego.

" _I want my Mama," he cried, as he fell down, down, down..._

He woke up screaming, on the bedroom floor.

"You've had a nightmare again, Luciano," said his father as he lifted him gently back into bed. "Was it the usual one?"

"Yes, Daddy. It's so scary. When will it go away?"

"It's early days," Andrew replied. "Once you've got used to the fact that Mama isn't coming back, I promise you the nightmares will stop. Now, try and get back to sleep. You've school in the morning."

He gave Luciano a hug, then pulled the duvet up over him and put out the light, weary with the task of looking after a small boy alone.

### Chapter 6

The train arrived five minutes late and Luciano was relieved to see Stuart waiting for him behind the barrier. The two men greeted each other warmly, Stuart relieving him of his suitcase.

"You look shattered, old mate," he said. "Good grief, this case is heavy. What's in it, a body?"

Luciano did not answer immediately. After all, how could he explain why he was carrying what he was. He flushed. "Just books," he said finally.

"My car's in the station car park so we've only a short distance to walk," Stuart continued.

Once in the car, Luciano asked if there had been any developments since the phone call.

"This second stroke is quite different," Stuart explained. "The one which your father had last spring affected his speech and the muscular control of his right limbs." He paused, wondering what to say next so as to ease the blow. "With the stroke this morning, there was a sudden loss of consciousness. It's possible we could lose him within a few hours. I'm so sorry, Luciano. I know how close you've always been."

"I see. I'd no idea it was so serious. If only I'd known sooner."

"Don't blame yourself. It was sudden. No one could predict what has happened."

Once inside the hospital , Stuart gave Luciano's name to the receptionist. They were asked to take a seat but it was only moments before a pleasant-faced, Asian nurse appeared and asked them to follow her.

Everything was eerily quiet and then suddenly they found themselves in a dimly lit labyrinth of corridors. Luciano lost count as they turned left, right and then left again, through heavy, swing doors, past people waiting on black, vinyl seated chairs, their faces devoid of any expression at this unearthly hour.

"Not far now," the nurse replied.

They walked past a Winnie-the-Pooh mural where Eeyore was as usual not having a good day. Luciano felt a momentary warmth inside. He had loved Eeyore so much as a child. Beyond the mural there was a drinks dispensing machine and after passing through two more sets of swing doors, they turned right.

Everything here was silent, except for the sound of their footsteps as they walked into a ward where on a bed Luciano's father was lying.

"I'll go and get us both some coffee," said Stuart, tactfully. "You'll want to be alone with him for a while." He looked round to thank the nurse but she had disappeared

Andrew McKinnon had never been a robust man but as Luciano gazed at his slender frame, he was surprised by his father's frailty. His face was ashen, the skin stretched over his cheekbones like parchment. His lips were bloodless. He seemed to have shrunk into himself.

Luciano lifted a chair which had been placed against one of the walls, to the head of the bed, sat down, took his father's hand, leaned towards him and whispered :

"I'm here, Dad. It's Luciano."

His father's hand was limp and lifeless and he knew Andrew would not be able to hear him. He tried to remember when he had last grasped his father's hand. As a child, his father had grasped his as he clambered into the rowing boat in the cove. It had been a strong, firm grasp and he had always felt safe.

He closed his eyes as tears welled up and slid down his cheeks for he knew he was too late for his father to hear him say 'goodbye'. He leaned forward and kissed the top of his head, being careful not to touch the thin, transparent tube running into his mouth which had been fixed by a strip of plaster. There was a stand on the other side of the bed, which, high up, held a clear bag. From this, a thinner tube ran into his father's arm. He suddenly became aware that Stuart had returned with coffee and quickly composed himself.

"Are you okay?" asked his friend.

"I'd be lying if I said 'yes', he replied. "Thanks for the coffee, Stuart. In fact, thanks for everything. You're a good friend but you can't really do anything more now. Why don't you get yourself home? Elizabeth will wonder what on earth has happened to

you."

"Do you want me to drive you to the cottage?"

"No, thank you. I'd like to stay here with Dad tonight. I can doze in the chair." He rubbed his eyes as tiredness overcame him. "You've done more than enough and you'll have patients to see tomorrow."

Totally exhausted, Luciano slept fitfully and woke some time later when the nurse tapped his shoulder.

"He's gone, Mr McKinnon," she said gently. "Your father passed away a few minutes ago. I'm so sorry. Stay with him for as long as you like. We'll see to everything for you. Do you want me to phone anyone?"

Still half asleep, Luciano shook his head. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost half past five.

"No thank you," he replied. "But, I tell you what you could do for me. I think it might be a good idea if I have a strong cup of coffee from the machine outside in the corridor. My head feels so fuddled. It must be the shock of everything."

She took him by the arm and together they walked out into the corridor where she sat him down on a black, vinyl seat. A few moments later she returned with coffee in a polystyrene cup.

After he had drunk this, Luciano went back to say a final goodbye to his father. Then, he felt in his pocket for some loose change and rang for a taxi, using the nearby payphone.

### Chapter 7

The taxi driver dropped him off a few feet away from the front entrance to Dove Cottage. Luciano paid him then picked up his suitcase and got out of the taxi. The early morning air was decidedly chilly. Soon after they had left the hospital it had begun to drizzle but by now a strong wind was blowing and the drizzle had turned to penetrating rain.

Leaves from the Copper Beech just inside the green gate had fallen onto the underlying path, where they had stuck like soggy cornflakes. The gate, which badly needed a new coat of paint, squeaked as it was opened and the latch was broken. The whole place, which had been his father's pride and joy up to the time of his illness, now looked neglected and the garden was completely over-run. It was with a heavy heart that he groped in his pocket for the keys which Stuart had given him.

Luciano's family home had originally be called Lavender Cottage so named because a row of lavender bushes had once grown in the front garden. These bushes had been planted by his mother, Isabella but after she had left and gone back to Italy, Rebecca, Andrew's second wife, had uprooted them to make way for a cottage garden of mixed flowers. It had been Rebecca who had chosen the new name for the cottage because of its implied serenity.

By the time he had opened the front door, he was soaked to the skin. A stale odour greeted him as he entered the hall and he shivered with cold. A quick look round the downstairs rooms, sitting room, dining room, kitchen and his father's study, showed that everything was in order as there was no clutter. He remembered Stuart telling him that Mrs Perry, a neighbour who after his father's initial stroke, had dropped in daily to see if he needed anything, had been given a spare key. She had obviously been in to tidy up.

Chilled to the bone and needing to change out of his wet clothes, he went to locate the central heating timer switch. The kitchen radiator groaned and cranked as it was forced into unaccustomed activity. Crossing over to the other side of the kitchen, he searched for a mug in one of the wall cupboards. The tea caddy held only a handful of teabags and there was a small amount of instant coffee left in the jar. He made a mental note of things which he needed to get from the corner shop later on when it opened, then filled the kettle from a tap which juddered and whined until just the correct flow of water came out of it.

A look in the fridge confirmed his suspicions. It was empty, having been defrosted so there was no milk. Returning to the wall cupboard, he rifled through again until he found some coffee whitener. Better than nothing, he thought to himself. It would probably taste okay in tea. At least he could make a hot drink and as soon as the radiators were warm enough, he could drape his wet clothes over them.

He removed his soaking wet anorak, threw it in a heap on the tiled floor and undressed down to his boxer shorts. Opening the suitcase, he rummaged around for he had packed speedily and haphazardly. His hands ran over what he had been unable to tell Stuart about. It was at the bottom, wrapped in a towel. Eventually he found what he was looking for and pulled out a thick, warm pullover and a pair of jogging trousers. He dried himself thoroughly, then put on a fresh pair of socks and his slippers.

Feeling much more comfortable, he padded over to the worktop, where he made tea. He ran his hand over the radiator and to his relief found that it was warming up nicely so he draped some of his wet clothes over it and took the rest through to the one in the dining room.

Back in the kitchen, he picked up the mug of tea and wandered through to his father's study. By now the central heating had done its job and the cottage was pleasantly warm. He sat down at his father's desk and picking up a sheet of paper and pen, began to make a list of items to be attended to. There was a Yellow Pages on the shelf below. He looked up funeral parlours, selected what he considered were the three most appropriate and wrote the numbers on the sheet of paper. He would wait until just after nine o'clock before contacting them.

His eyes wandered round the room, resting on Andrew's paintings, which took up most of the space on the far wall. His father's interpretation of the beauty of Dorset had been quite exceptional. The main views were all there. Lulworth Cove, Durdle Door, Corfe Castle, Stinsford Church, Thomas Hardy's cottage and many more, all captured in delicate watercolours.

The other three walls were crammed with books on oak shelves. In a space between Hardy's novels was a framed photograph of his father and Rebecca, which he, himself had taken, just before she moved into the cottage, a year after his mother had left. As he looked closely at the photograph, memories came flooding back. They both looked so happy and he could remember exactly when he had taken it. Three months after he had first been introduced to her.

*

It was undoubtedly loneliness that made Andrew search for someone else with whom to share his life. Luciano had known that something was up when a girl whose name was Anne, started to come and look after him each Saturday evening. He had asked his father where he was going and was always given the same answer.

"I'm just going out for a drink with some friends from the village."

However, it was not long before he noticed his father acting differently. He started to whistle again, something which Luciano had not heard him do in a long while. Then, one warm, summer evening, a young woman called in at the cottage and his father said:

"Luciano, I want you to meet someone very special. This is Rebecca, the lady I've been seeing during the evenings when Anne comes to look after you."

Luciano looked at her and realised that he had seen her before.

"I've seen you in the shop in the village, the one where Daddy buys his art materials," he said.

"Yes, Luciano," she replied. "I've just started working there. That's how I met your Dad."

"What are those things on your nose?"

Rebecca smiled and replied "They're called freckles."

Luciano liked the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Later on that evening, after she had left he said to his father:

"She's nice, Daddy, I like her. She's kind and gentle and she seems to like me. She helped me build some lego. When's she coming again?"

"Oh, she'll most probably be here again quite soon, I think," Andrew smiled.

"You love her don't you? I can tell that you do. Are you going to marry her?"

"Maybe, son. That's if she doesn't get too fed up with us. Anyway, I haven't asked her yet. I can't. I'm still married to your mother."

*

That year, the summer passed quickly and it was not long before the first real days of autumn came round, smelling of things dying down and smoke. Then, just when it seemed that life was returning to normal, Andrew received a letter from Isabella, asking for a divorce. Later on that evening, he decided that it was time to talk to Luciano. He called him down from his bedroom.

"I've some news for you, son," he said. "I received a letter from your mother this morning. In it she tells me she's at last found happiness and has a new man in her life. He's Spanish, and his name is Paco. Now that she's finally settled, she feels that your nightmares might stop if you go and live with her and Paco in Venice. How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know, Daddy," he replied. He was stunned and needed time to think.

Up in his room, he sat on the window seat and gazed out at the cove. Obviously his mother had no idea that the nightmares had stopped and that he was happy again. At least he had been, particularly now that his father and Rebecca were planning to marry as soon as it was possible. If he went to Venice, how did he know that he would like Paco and more importantly, Paco might not like him. He got on so well with Rebecca. And, what would he do without his father? If Mama had really wanted him, why hadn't she taken him with her when she left? His head hurt with so much thinking. Who needed him most, his mother or father and which one of them would he be happiest with?

Lights began to flicker on in the village. It was almost dark. A seagull gave a mournful cry. Luciano knew he would miss the view from this window. He would also miss his room with all his toys and his computer. Could he take everything to Venice? Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Some time later, he made his way downstairs and went into his father's studio. Andrew was working in pastels this evening, on a view of Stinsford Church. He looked up anxiously as Luciano approached, trying to read his expression.

"I've had a good think," said Luciano, quietly. "I want to stay here with you and Rebecca, Daddy. I like Venice but I don't want to live there because I love it here. Can I stay with you please?"

Andrew looked fondly at his son and sighed deeply. Finally he spoke:

"You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that," he replied. "Of course you can stay, this is your home. I couldn't bear to lose you now, not after all we've been through together. But, you must keep regularly in touch with your mother and visit her when you're older."

Luciano nodded and smiled, then picked up a pastel crayon and began to draw.

### Chapter 8

It was Sunday afternoon and visiting time in the day room was almost over. Kate had been worried about her parents' arrival but when the time came, Bill and Emma had rushed breathlessly in, bearing gifts.

They had talked incessantly about everything and everyone 'back home' in Sussex. No doubt, thought Kate, so that they would not have to talk about how embarrassing it was to have their daughter in such a place. Later, when Bill had gone outside for a smoke, Emma said, quietly:

"He cried you know, when the social worker phoned. I was really surprised. He kept on repeating 'not my Kate'. We made arrangements to travel up as soon as possible. Poor Jake and Lucy, they're the ones who are suffering most."

Kate wondered at her mother's insensitivity but said nothing except:

"When you went to see them, how did they seem?"

"You mustn't worry, just concentrate on getting better. They seem well enough under the circumstances. Of course Lucy doesn't understand what's happening. She's too young but it's obvious that she's missing you. Jake has been more affected by the Situation. He didn't talk much when we went to see them yesterday evening. He seems rather withdrawn and much older than the last time we saw him."

"He's a smashing lad. When James left, he told me not to worry and that he would look after me. Now that I'm in here, he probably feels that he's let me down." She looked at her mother. "It's quite a few months since I last saw you, Mum. How are things? Is Dad still knocking you around?"

Emma, embarrassed, looked away.

"It doesn't happen often these days, unless I've done or said something to really upset him. I just have to be careful."

"I don't know how you put up with it. It shouldn't happen at all, he's a bully," replied Kate as her father walked back in through the door. "I'd have left him long ago."

"It's all right for you to say that but how can I? I've got Holly to consider."

Nurse Ritchie appeared and rang a bell.

"Visiting time's over, ladies and gentlemen," she called. "Can you please make sure that the patients go back to the ward before you leave."

*

After Bill and Emma had departed, Kate went in search of Cassie to see how everything had gone during the visiting hour. Her married lover had come to see her just as he had promised. Kate had frequently glanced over while talking to Bill and Emma and at one point noticed that they seemed to be arguing. She found Cassie sitting on the end of her bed, deep in thought. She looked up as Kate approached.

"Hi, Kate," she said. "How did it go with your folks?"

"Okay actually. Better than I expected. It gave me the opportunity to find out about Jake and Lucy. They're going to be able to see them each day and report back to me." She paused. "More to the point, how did things go with you? Did you have a chance to thrash things out with John?"

"Oh yes, we talked and I've made a decision. I've finally realised just how much of a wimp he really is. In spite of everything he says about not being happy with his wife, it's obvious that he hasn't got the guts to leave her. I should've thought about the fact that he's Catholic. It's the guilt, you see. He just hasn't got what it takes, " she said, sadly. "I wonder what his wife's like. I wouldn't mind betting that she's incredibly nice. She'd have to be to have put up with him for so long."

"So, what are you trying to tell me?"

"I've decided he's not worth the bother. I've finished with him. And guess what? I'm going to keep the baby and bring it up on my own. If it's got any sense it won't look like John. It'll look just like me and I'll love it to bits."

"Oh, Cassie. How will you manage on your own?"

"I've decided to do the only sensible thing under the circumstances. I'm going back home to live with my mother until the baby's born. I phoned her just now and explained everything."

"I couldn't go back home and live with my parents," said Kate. "No way," she added, thinking about the frequent rows.

"You haven't met _my_ mum. She's special, a typical earth mother. You'd like her, everyone does. She's almost as nutty as I am."

*

"This really hurts your hands, doesn't it?" said Kate, three days later, as she nursed a scratched finger.

"Imagine doing it for a living, day in, day out," Cassie replied.

The occupational therapy session was just finishing. Today they had been basket weaving.

"Right, laideez, we'll clear away now. Make sure your names are on zee baskets before you leave zem on zee shelf," said Cecile, the French therapist. "Zank you. I'll zee you tomorrow."

"Not if I zee you first," muttered a disgruntled Cassie. "Thank God that's over. That woman gets on my wick. Coffee time. I'm dying for a fag."

Kate smiled. She was always amused by her friend's ardent dislike for anything 'organised'. They both shuffled off to the dining room.

"You really should try to give up smoking, Cass," she said. "It's dangerous to smoke while you're pregnant. You wouldn't want anything to happen to the baby, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't and I intend to give up as soon as I've sorted myself out."

They helped themselves to coffee and digestive biscuits and sat down in front of the large window which overlooked the grounds. Kate watched a squirrel scamper across the lawn.

"Look at that squirrel, Cassie. Isn't it cute?"

Cassie looked up and was just in time to see it climb up the Larch tree and disappear.

"It's so full of purpose," Kate continued.

"That's it, Kate. It's got a purpose. Whereas we're just stuck in here. All I want to do is get out of this damned place and look forward to having my baby."

"Me too. I can't wait to get back to my house and kids."

"Are you planning to go back to work when Lucy's older? Presumably you did work before the children were born."

"Yes, I would like to. I was a nurse. I should be able to get some part time work while the children are at school. That's what I'm hoping. The only problem would be the school holidays."

"Whatever made you choose nursing? The pay's dreadful."

"Right from when I was a small child, I always wanted to be a nurse and the feeling kind of stuck."

"Actually, I can imagine you being very good at it. You've the right qualities. You give the impression of being kind but firm and it's obvious that you care about people. Look, there's that squirrel again."

They both looked out of the window at the small animal digging away amongst the leaves which were by now falling thick and fast.

"When you really love the job you're doing, what you earn isn't that big an issue," Kate continued. "It's about job satisfaction. It's not so bad as long as you've just about got enough money to live on. I made ward sister before I had to pack it all in to have Jake. What do you do for living? Singing?"

"Good heavens no. Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Well, the night you were brought in here, you gave a brilliant rendition of 'Ave Maria'. We all thought you were a professional singer."

"Well, I'm not. How embarrassing. I must have been completely out of it."

She looked thoughtfully out of the window and at the large group of Starlings strutting across the lawn before she continued.

"No, I'm afraid my work is nothing noble like yours but I do make quite a lot of money. After I left school, I went into retailing and worked in a department store for a few years. Eventually, as time went by it all became boring and predictable so I decided to look for something different. Then, one day, I met someone who owned an ethnic gift shop. He asked me if I would like to manage it for him and I agreed to take up the challenge."

"What kind of things did you sell?"

"Lots of interesting stuff, including New Age items. You know the kind of thing, wind chimes, mobiles, crystals, jewellery, clothes, hand-made furniture and ornaments, music to relax to and much more. I learned an incredible amount about other cultures while I was there. It was fascinating."

"I bet you got a load of weirdos coming in."

"Occasionally but some of them were interesting too. Not your common or garden shopper but someone on the lookout for something different." She stirred her coffee. "Anyway, we used to get sent information about weekend workshops that were being organised too. I decided to give one of them a try and I haven't looked back since."

The woman from behind the serving hatch was gesticulating at them and called out:

"Could you leave the dining room now, dears. We need to set the tables for lunch."

*

"Which workshop did you attend?" asked Kate as they made their way back to the day room.

"One where we learned about an ancient American Indian art. The art of cleansing the air and energising the atmosphere. The correct term for it is 'space -cleaning' or 'smudging'."

"Come again? This sounds intriguing."

"We were shown how to perform 'smudging' ceremonies. All you need is this special pack with the correct equipment and an instruction book. You see, some people have difficulty selling their houses even though they are most desirable properties. That's when they need smudging."

"What actually _is_ smudging?"

"Well, putting it simply, sometimes homes have 'bad vibes' and need so to speak, a spiritual scrub-down so that any emotional refuse left behind by the previous unhappy occupants can be replaced with positive energy."

"It all sounds a bit spooky. Does it really work?"

"Oh yes, it must do. I gave up my job at the shop to become a freelance 'smudger', charging around £150 a time for a ceremony. It was amazing how many properties shifted once the negative energy had gone."

Kate thought about the squirrel they had both seen and grinned.

"Changing the subject, do you think that squirrel we were watching had positive or negative energy, Cass?"

"Oh positive most definitely. There won't be any negative vibes in his drey."

*

Sister Dewhurst took her job seriously and never missed a trick. She had been watching Kate's progress with a certain amount of perplexity and looking through her records noted that since her admission, her medication had been changed three times. By now, she should be showing more improvement in her condition than was immediately apparent.

There were a number of factors which puzzled her. Kate seemed to be gaining weight more than the other patients but she ate no more than anyone else. Also, as well as still showing severe signs of depression, she seemed constantly tired and her face showed signs of puffiness.

She waited until late afternoon when Kate and Cassie returned to the ward before she took matters into her own hands.

"Afternoon, ladies," she said. "Kate, will you go and lie on your bed please. I've made arrangements for you to see another doctor. A medical doctor."

Kate looked at Cassie and raised her eyebrows.

"See ya later," she said.

As Cassie sauntered off, Kate did as she had been asked and reclined on the bed. She felt tired again and in order to stop herself from dropping off, thumbed through a magazine which her mother had brought the previous day. She looked impatiently at the clock, wondering why on earth it was necessary for her to see another doctor.

*

About fifteen minutes later, Sister Dewhurst returned, accompanied by a tall, balding, bespectacled man whom Kate deduced was probably in his fifties. He walked over and introduced himself.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Hazelton. I'm Doctor Smethwick. I'd like to examine you please."

Sister Dewhurst pulled the curtains round the bed while he looked at Kate's hands and ankles. After asking her some questions, he turned to his colleague and said:

"You've been most vigilant, Sister. I'm fairly certain that your suspicions are correct but some blood tests must be done before we can make a final diagnosis. Can you see to it right away?" Sister Dewhurst nodded and smiled. "If the results are positive as we think they will be, Mrs Hazelton will be able to go home as soon as we've sorted out her medication."

He smiled, said goodbye to Kate and walked speedily out of the ward.

"I knew there was something funny about that swelling," said Sister Dewhurst, quietly.

"I don't understand," Kate replied. "What's wrong with me?"

"If we're right, it looks like you've been misdiagnosed, my girl. You shouldn't be in here at all."

### Chapter 9

After contacting family members and friends, Luciano made the final arrangements with the funeral parlour. His father's funeral was to take place the following Wednesday and Mrs Perry, who lived nearby and was always popping in, had agreed to organise some refreshments so that the chief mourners could return to the cottage and give him an appropriate send off.

Andrew had always said that he wanted to be cremated, and wanted his ashes to be strewn over 'Homely Bulbarrow', one of Thomas Hardy's favourite heights. Luciano planned to carry out this last request alone. It would be a final way in which he could say goodbye to a father for whom he had felt so much respect and love.

After making sure that all was in order at the cottage, he made two phone calls. The first was to Mrs Perry, to tell her that he was leaving and the second to a local taxi firm so that he could be taken to the station. The firm, Kwik Cars was true to its name and responded by sending a driver within minutes.

The return rail journey seemed quicker than the journey down to Dorset but even so he was determined to drive down for the funeral. He felt lost without his own transport and would need it more that ever after next week's ceremony.

*

He arrived back home at around noon and after grabbing a sandwich, got into his car and drove immediately to the hospital. The information on his desk made him aware of the fact that he was due to see Kate that afternoon. There was a memo from Doctor Smethwick, informing him about her misdiagnosis. He read it thoughtfully and frowned. She was to be discharged tomorrow. This would be the last opportunity he would have of seeing her professionally. Everything was moving too fast and he was uncertain about what to do. Not only was he having to cope with the throes of bereavement, he was about to lose the love of his life as well.

He had assumed that there would be plenty of time after the funeral to work out what he would eventually say to her and how he would say it. One thing was certain. He must say something today. If he remained silent, he could possibly lose her for ever.

He decided to go and see Sister Dewhurst so that she could put him in the picture and afterwards returned to his office where he spent the next hour looking up details of Kate's condition so that he would know exactly what to say to her.

*

She arrived for her appointment five minutes late and whilst waiting for her, Luciano became more and more agitated. After knocking on his door, she waited for his response and then, somewhat flustered entered, saying breathlessly, "I'm so sorry, I'm a bit late. I dozed off in that comfy chair in the day room and nobody remembered to wake me. Where've you been? I had to see another psychiatrist yesterday."

"Sit down and get your breath back," he replied. "I'm sorry you had to see someone else but I haven't been here the last couple of days. I had to travel down to Dorset. My father had another stroke. He died yesterday morning."

Kate stared at him, her thoughts racing, then raised her eyes to the ceiling.

"Doctor McKinnon, I'm so sorry. I'm always putting my foot in it. Are you okay? I hope you don't mind me saying so but you look dreadful."

"I think I'll be all right once everything has properly sunk in. At the moment I'm in a bit of a daze. You see, although my father had been ill and had a previous stroke last year, it was a great shock. One's never prepared for these things. Old age can be very sad, can't it?" Kate nodded. "The funeral's next week so I'll have to go down again for that and then, of course, there's the cottage to sort out too. That's something I'm not looking forward to either."

Kate looked at him, not knowing what to say next for he looked so incredibly sad but he continued talking and said:

"Now to the matter in hand. Doctor Smethwick informs me that tests confirm that you are suffering from hypothyroidism."

Kate did not answer immediately, then said, "So, I've got an under active thyroid gland. That's what Sister Dewhurst wouldn't tell me."

"She couldn't until everything was official."

"I must thank her. My God, she's really on the ball, isn't she? I mean nobody else realised it was that did they?"

"You're a trained nurse, aren't you, Kate, I've read your notes. You'll know that the system is so finely tuned that if anything happens to disturb the delicate balance of the thyroid gland, the repercussions ricochet throughout the rest of the body."

"I should've guessed, shouldn't I?"

Not necessarily. Hypothyroidism tends to sneak up insidiously, producing symptoms that are often confusing, such as depression and tiredness."

"Yes, but now I think about it, I should have realised. I just thought I was putting on weight. I developed coarse skin but put this down to the fact that having just had Lucy, my hands were continually in and out of sterilising solution. I thought that was what had caused it."

Luciano glanced out of the window and at the leaden sky. Another day without sun. No wonder he felt depressed. He sighed and put down his pen.

"If you remember what you learned during your training, the thyroid gland tends to slow down during pregnancy and problems often start after childbirth. Did you notice any changes in your appearance afterwards?"

"Not immediately, apart from those which I've just mentioned. But, recently my hair's become awfully dry and unmanageable. Something else I've noticed is that my rings have been tighter than usual and I wondered why."

"Everything will soon improve. Yours has been a very severe case, Kate. You also had mood changes and a sense of everything being muddled which led on to a more pronounced disturbance. You eventually became out of touch with reality and developed feelings of persecution."

Kate shifted uneasily in her chair, averting her eyes.

"One of the most common features of hypothyroidism is depression," he continued. "As a result, sufferers are occasionally misdiagnosed and referred to a psychiatrist. That is why you were brought here and I have been treating you. It can be difficult to distinguish between the two illnesses because they share so many characteristics."

Kate nodded, thought for a moment and then said:"So now, I suppose, I'll have to take thyroxine tablets for the rest of my life to make sure I keep well."

"That's right and after you're discharged , if you have any problems at all in the future your GP will deal with them."

He stood up and Kate was surprised by his height. So far she had only seen him from behind a desk. He was well over six foot and was hunky with it. He reminded her of Carlo.

"I understand that you're going home tomorrow," he said. "I shall miss you. I've enjoyed our chats but I'm glad you're on the way to recovery. You're a special person, Kate Hazelton."

"So are you.," she replied. "You will take care of yourself, won't you? Is there a Mrs McKinnon to look after you?"

"Not any longer. We split up around six months ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not."

Thoughts raced through his head. He wanted to tell her of his feelings but it was too soon. Too soon for both of them.. Instead he said:

"Kate, I'd very much like to get to know you better. Would you have dinner with me sometime ?" She looked at him with surprise. "Not yet of course. My father's funeral is next week and you'll need time to re-adjust to your new medication and get used to being with your children again." He paused and looked in his desk drawer where he located a business card, which he handed to her. "Perhaps in a few weeks time? Here's my number. When the time is right, contact me. You will, won't you?"

"Yes, I probably will Doctor McKinnon but tell me, do you normally make a point of coming on to your patients?"

"Certainly not. As I said before, I think you're special and after today I'll no longer be your doctor anyway. By the way, my name's Luciano. Yes, I know it's a mouthful. I've my Italian mother to thank for that."

"Goodbye, Luciano," she said, putting the card into her pocket. "Or maybe it should be 'au revoir."

As she smiled and left, he was overcome by a feeling of sadness which was almost unbearable. For the first time in his life he knew he was deeply in love. He was not sure how it had happened but it had. And, to make matters worse, he was fairly sure Kate didn't feel the same way. In fact he could not say for certain that he would ever see her again.

### Chapter 10

During the night, unbeknown to Holly, Bathsheba had left her pet bed in the corner of the bedroom and settled for jumping up onto the comparative luxury of the duvet, where she had snuggled down, her head resting on Holly's hip.

Sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains and shone directly on Holly's face. She momentarily opened her eyes and shifting her position, roused the sleeping pooch, whose tail began to vibrate, causing an unwelcome draught. Bathsheba gazed adoringly at her with soft, brown eyes.

"When did you get up here?" Holly murmured. Bathsheba, happy that she was awake, covered her face with wet, sloppy kisses.

"Go away," said Holly. "It's not time to get up yet."

She groaned when she heard the clattering coming from the kitchen and slid deep down under the covers., hoping to fall back to sleepy oblivion. Her companion thought differently and burrowed under the duvet in an urgent attempt to rouse her. It was then that Holly remembered. Her mother was not responsible for the noise downstairs. It was Aunt Ginnie.

With tousled hair and eyes full of sleep, to Bathsheba's delight she threw back the duvet and sitting on the edge of the bed, pushed her feet into well-worn slippers while enveloping herself in her blue terry robe. It was obvious that the animal needed to get into the garden for she pushed past Holly in her anxiety, making sure she got downstairs first.

Her aunt, having made some coffee, was listening to music on the radio and reading the newspaper. She looked very much at home.

"Morning Aunt Ginnie," she said, walking over to the back door. "Bathsheba needs to be let out. Don't mind me, I'm not properly awake yet."

"Hi, Holly. Maybe some coffee would help. Want some?"

"In a minute, I'm just going to run a bath. Won't be two ticks," she replied, humming as she made her way upstairs.

In the bathroom, she turned on the hot tap just a little so that the bath would take sufficient time to fill while she enjoyed her first drink of the day. She looked at herself in the mirror which was already beginning to steam up and decided that she could get away with not washing her hair. Instead she piled it up on top of her head securely, with a large pair of combs. Then, reaching for a bar of her favourite soap, she put this, together with a fluffy, white towel, on the stool by the bath. She then went downstairs, poured herself a large mug of coffee and sat down in the rocking chair in the corner of the kitchen, her hands clasped around the mug.

"How does it feel being on terra firma again?" she asked her aunt.

"It always seems a little strange at first but one soon acclimatises."

Shortly following her fiftieth birthday, Ginnie, disillusioned with the education system and teaching in general, had packed everything in and opted for early retirement. After quitting her teaching position she had put her house in the hands of an estate agent.

She had then been able to fulfil a life long ambition and had travelled around France, mainly on foot, staying at pensions which she discovered on her way.

Six months later, on arriving back in London, with the proceeds from the sale of her house, which had been sold during her absence, she had purchased a nine metre narrow boat and settled down to write an account of her travels. The book, which was published the following summer had been much acclaimed, after which, Holly, proud of her aunt, had spent a fortnight with her on the boat. On her return she told her parents that she had had a 'whale of a time'.

"The boat's much larger than I thought it would be," Holly had told Bill and Emma. "There are two berths with full standing headroom throughout and it's filled out to a high standard too with most of the creature comforts people expect in their own homes. There's a full size cooker and fridge. It's also got central heating, continuous hot water, a shower and a flush toilet."

Having relieved herself, Bathsheba barked and scratched at the back door. As Holly let her in, she looked out into the garden. Although sunny, it was a cool morning for late August. She shivered, drawing the robe closely round her slender frame. The dew on the grass glistened. She watched a Blackbird tugging at a reluctant worm. Sparrows twittered from the top of the Weeping Pear tree, the way sparrows always do. A pair of Collared Doves alighted on the conifers at the far end of the garden and disappeared deep inside the tallest.

She closed the door and fetched Bathsheba's towel so that she could dry her feet and legs. As she did so she placed her arms around the dog's neck and hugged her.

"How you adore that dog," said Ginnie.

"Of course I do. She's my baby and I'll do anything to prevent her getting arthritis when she's older which apparently can happen if dogs are left wet."

"The bath will be overflowing if you don't get upstairs soon," Ginnie replied as she began to wash the dishes.

Holly liked the school holidays, when, instead of having a hurried shower, she could enjoy the blissfulness of immersing herself into the warmth and security of the bathtub. She had often wondered if there was something psychological about this - like the security of returning to the womb, perhaps.

She soaped herself all over and sank deep down into the soothing water, closed her eyes and pondered the situation. Why was it that she had always got on so well with her aunt but was at continual loggerheads with her mother? She had never been close to Emma and at times felt that her mother even resented her. One thing was certain. Kate had always been her mother's favourite and no doubt always would be. There was nothing she could do about that. But, with her aunt it was different. She had always felt a special warmth towards her and knew this was reciprocated.

She could hear pans being clattered downstairs. What was Ginnie up to now?

Releasing the bath plug, she stood up, stepped out of the bath and dried herself vigorously, wondering if Ginnie had remembered to bring what she had promised.

She brushed her teeth and walked through to the bedroom. After putting on underwear, she pulled on black Levi's and decided to wear the new T-shirt which she hoped would amuse her aunt. A pair of blue sneakers completed her outfit. After brushing her hair, she skilfully knotted it into a pony tail high up on her head. A thin layer of tinted moisturiser and a smidgen of rose-pink lipstick was sufficient to give her complexion a healthy glow and having surveyed her petite, elfin frame in the cheval mirror, she felt ready to face the world.

Making her way downstairs, she was greeted by Bathsheba. She walked through to the dining room where her aunt had set the breakfast table.

"Oh, you're down," Ginnie called from the kitchen. "Would you like some scrambled eggs or something else cooked or are you going to make do with cereal?" she continued, reflecting on the fact that her niece looked as if she could do with a square meal."

"Cereal and juice will do me just fine," she replied, walking over to the cupboard where her mother kept the breakfast cereals. She deliberated for a moment before choosing honey and nut bite size shredded wheat.

"Love the T-shirt," said Ginnie. "Most appropriate." Today's said:

POLITICIANS DO IT WITH

THEIR EYES CLOSED

Holly grinned."I'm glad you like it," she replied. "Aunt Ginnie, changing the subject, have you remembered to bring your button box with you just like you promised?"

She sat down, tipped out the cereal and after pouring milk over, took a gulp of juice and began to crunch the shredded wheat.

"Yes, I have. I'll get it for you in a moment. I want to read Jonathan's. letter again. The one which came yesterday."

*

After gaining his degree, Ginnie's son, had surprised everyone by making the decision to work in Africa as a community worker for Oxfam. His mother had initially been upset that he was going to be so far away. However once she got used to the idea and came round to his way of thinking she became secretly very proud of what he was doing.

"He moves around quite a lot, doesn't he?" said Holly, thinking of her lanky, black haired cousin. "Where is he at the moment?"

"He's in Azerbaijan now, showing the locals that it's possible to achieve things for themselves. In this letter he explains that he and the group he's working with, are helping them to organise their own community work. It's a way of helping them to not only develop confidence but have dignity as well. The people, he writes, are given practical information about how to grow more food, learn new skills and as a result, earn more money."

"It must be wonderful to be involved in such rewarding work."

"Yes, indeed. I'm very proud of him. He goes on to say that as a community, they work together to improve standards of living in their village." She paused, sipping her tea.

"They've set up a cereal bank apparently, so that they can store food for times when there may be a shortage. They've built a school and started classes in adult literacy too."

Ginnie folded the letter and looked up at Holly. "Now, enough of that. Let me go and get those buttons and give you the present which I've brought."

"Present?" echoed Holly. "I didn't know you were bringing me a present."

"Well, you do happen to be my favourite god-daughter."

Ginnie disappeared, returning moments later with a small box filled with buttons, which Holly, like a vulture, pounced on.

"Oh, these are wicked," she exclaimed. "Did you know that applique has made a big come back?"

Ginnie shook her head as her niece rummaged through the spare beads and pearls which she had also brought.

"These will look really cool on my winter woollies. I can decorate the neckline and edges of my lovely new sweater. Gathered in clusters they'll look stunning. Thanks a bunch, Aunt Ginnie. Jason will be most impressed."

"Who's Jason?"

"A very good friend. He's the one who printed this T-shirt for me. He's done quite a few and only charges me a fiver each time. He's got printing equipment in a shed at the bottom of his parents' garden."

"He sounds like a most enterprising young man. Why don't you bring him here this evening for dinner? I'd like to meet him."

"Would you? I think he'd like that. He's never been here before, you see. Mum and Dad seem to think he's a bad influence. They don't approve of him."

"Why ever not?" asked Ginnie, suddenly becoming interested.

Holly shrugged her shoulders.

"Changing the subject, did you say you had a present for me? You know how much I always love the presents you give me. It's always so much fun when you visit," she replied, with excitement in her voice.

Ginnie looked pleased then handed her the small package which she had been concealing under her arm.

"I thought you'd like this," she said. "It's not much but it's really you."

Holly opened the small parcel. Inside was a Body Art kit . She was beside herself with excitement when she saw that there were intricate designs for hands, feet and shoulders.

"Oh, it's wonderful," she enthused. "I so hate tattoos but this is cool."

"I though you'd enjoy creating your own designs with the stencils which should last for anything up to three weeks. They'll have disappeared by the time you return to school."

"The designs are beautiful. I think I'll have a swirl across the back of my left hand which goes all the way along my arm, towards my elbow and this design for the foot looks like an elaborate ankle chain."

"Why don't you go and try it out now? Unless of course, you want to come with me to the supermarket."

"No thanks, I think I'll give that a miss."

"Well, at least phone Jason and see if he'd like to come for a meal this evening."

*

As Holly set to work decorating her body, she thought about what her mother had told her when she was ten years old. She had asked Emma if Ginnie was divorced.

"No, she's not," Emma had replied. "She could never quite bring herself to go through with that. Not long after they were married, before Jonathan was born, her husband, Alan left her." She paused. "It was all very strange at the time. None of us have any idea what happened to him. He just disappeared."

Ginnie Ferguson and Alan Sanders met when they found themselves working at the same school. For Ginnie, it was her first job, teaching English. Alan was head of Science and to many of their colleagues, the romance which ensued was an attraction of opposites.

Six months into the relationship, Alan, captivated by her titian hair and grey-green eyes, asked Ginnie to marry him. A year later they tied the knot and settled down to domesticity but because they had no plans to start a family, Ginnie continued to work.

However, fate, as it so often does, took a hand and to her amazement and delight Ginnie discovered that she was pregnant. Alan was over the moon about the coming baby and decided that once the child was born, he would start looking for a deputy headship. But there were problems at work and he became increasingly stressed. He paid a visit to their GP who put him on medication but there was little improvement.

One night, Ginnie woke around three and found Alan's side of the bed empty.

Thinking he would be in his study, she crept downstairs to make herself a cup of tea. She found him sitting at the kitchen table, in front of a half empty bottle of wine. Some moments passed before he was aware of her presence. He looked up and said:

"I couldn't sleep. Everything keeps going round inside my head."

"We can't have this, Alan, " she replied. "Drinking's not going to solve anything. Whatever's worrying you will still be there in the morning. Don't you think you'd better go and see the doctor again?"

"What good would that do? He'll only give me more pills."

They talked for about half an hour and then, both exhausted, returned to bed where they fell asleep in each other's arms.

*

Ginnie had forgotten to set the alarm. It was some time after seven when she finally stirred and when she did she found that she was once more alone. Hurriedly putting on her dressing gown, she called out to Alan but when there was no reply she ran downstairs. There was no sign of him so she ran out to the garage. It was empty. He had left without her and without saying goodbye. As she walked back into the house she wondered how she was going to get to school. It was then that she found the envelope , propped up in front of the toast rack on the kitchen table. Her knees were shaking as she tore it open and pulled out the note which was inside.. As she read it, her eyes filled with tears.

Darling Ginnie,

It's not you , it's not your fault. You've done nothing wrong. You are a continual support to me and always have been. It's me. I can't cope with things any more. With the baby coming, you'll be better off without me. I will never stop loving you,

Alan.

"Poor Aunt Ginnie. What did she do, go to the police?" asked Holly as she listened gravely to the story.

"Oh yes, she did that and he was put on a 'Missing Persons' list and there were posters saying 'Have you seen this man?' There were the usual sightings of course there always are in these situations but they didn't amount to anything, " Emma continued. "It was all very strange because he'd taken nothing with him. No wallet or passport, just the car keys and he didn't withdraw any money from their joint bank account. The car was eventually found abandoned about a hundred miles away and the keys were in the ignition so at least once it was returned, Ginnie had some form of transport."

"It sounds to me as if it was a 'spur of the moment' decision which wasn't planned at all," said Holly. "What happened next?"

"There wasn't really anything that Ginnie could do. They were all naturally sympathetic at the school so she decided to carry on teaching until a short time before the baby was born. She certainly needed the money." Emma paused before continuing as she strived to recollect what had happened. "A week before she was due to give birth to Jonathan, the phone rang and when Ginnie answered it, she told us there was a muffled silence. The caller was obviously in a crowded place, like a pub but a couple of words were spoken, one sounding like Ginnie. The receiver was then put down."

"Was it him?"

"We don't know for sure but Ginnie was convinced it was. It was all very sad because she told us that after the call she had fantasised about Alan turning up in time for the birth but of course he didn't. She was all alone when the midwife handed her Jonathan."

*

Holly completed the design on her shoulder then went downstairs and made herself a cup of tea. As she sat in the rocking chair she remembered what her aunt had said about Jason. She walked along the passageway, picked up the phone and dialled his number.

"Hi, Jason," she said. "Did I tell you that my parents have gone up north to visit my sister and that my Aunt Ginnie is staying here while they're away?"

"She's the one who lives on a boat, isn't she? Yes, you did tell me."

"I've been telling her about you and she seems keen to meet you. Can you come for a meal tonight at about eight o'clock? You'll like my aunt. She's cool."

"I'd love to, Babe. It's about time I came to your house considering the amount of time you spend at mine."

### Chapter 11

In order to show that she respected her views, Ginnie, while staying with Holly, had decided to cook only vegetarian meals. Although she had recently given up eating red meat, she still ate chicken and fish but being adventurous, was looking forward to the challenge of using meat free recipes.

When she arrived at the supermarket she was relieved to find that it was relatively quiet and having made a list of what she wanted, was able to complete the shopping in record time.

Back at the house, she decided to make the main dish straight away and then freeze individual portions which she could defrost in the microwave just before they were due to eat. She looked round admiringly at Emma's kitchen while she made a pot of coffee. It had recently been refurbished in limed oak.

As a meat replacement, Ginnie was using a micoprotein called Quorn which Holly had informed her was very healthy as it contained less than five percent fat.

"It's like chicken in texture," her niece had said. "By itself it's quite bland but spiced up it's delicious."

Ginnie had decided on a recipe with tomatoes and paprika and to serve the dish with a crisp, mixed salad and plain boiled rice rather than new potatoes. She could hear Holly upstairs, singing noisily as she tried out the body art kit and smiled as she tipped out the quorn chunks onto a plate. Most of them were quite large so she cut these in half. After quartering eight ounces of closed cap mushrooms, she poured two tablespoons of olive oil into the largest pan she could find and tipped the quorn and mushrooms in, coating everything evenly with the oil.

After turning the gas ring onto a low setting, she placed the pan with its contents on top, then opened a large tin of chopped, Italian tomatoes, crushed a garlic clove and waited until the quorn was nicely browned and the mushrooms soft before she added a tablespoon of ground paprika with the garlic. She left the contents of the pan simmering for about two minutes making sure that everything was evenly coated with the paprika. Finally, she tipped in the chopped tomatoes and let everything simmer once more before adding two tablespoons of fresh, chopped basil and three tablespoons of crème fraiche.

She divided the contents of the pan between three foil dishes, which she sealed and left on the worktop to cool down before placing them in the freezer. The remaining crème fraiche would be poured on top just before serving.

Ginnie then prepared a large bowl of four different types of lettuce which she had bought ready packed at the supermarket. She halved some cherry tomatoes, sliced a red onion, cut the cucumber into sizeable chunks and then added these together with some cress and broccoli florets to the bowl.

Feeling pleased that she had prepared everything early and that there was only the rice to boil later, she made herself a well deserved cup of tea and went through to the sitting room to sit in the sun in the chair by the window and read more of her novel.

*

Ginnie had had a preconceived idea of what Justin would be like but when he arrived just before eight, she found she had been wrong on all counts. As he stood in the porch, the first thing that immediately caught her attention was the fact that everything he was wearing, from his silk shirt, unbuttoned almost to the waist, tailored jeans, socks, trainers, right down to his heavily studded bomber jacket, was black.

"Hello. Mrs Sanders," he said. He spoke carefully and she was surprised that his voice was so cultured. "It's most kind of you to invite me here. I don't mean to be rude but what are you staring at?"

Ginnie was suddenly aware of the fact that she was standing with her mouth wide open. She shut it immediately.

"I'm sorry, Jason It's just that you're....that you're....not at all like I thought you'd be."

"You mean I'm different and a bit weird. I'll take that as a compliment. Who wants to be normal? I can't think of anything worse."

"No, I certainly don't find you weird. Unusual perhaps. You're not of Rastafarian descent so why do you wear your hair in dreadlocks?"

"Because I can," he replied, giving her the most disarming smile.

After shaking him by the hand at the front door and showing him through to the sitting room, it ran through her mind that he might be a Satanist. As well as his bomber jacket being heavily studded, there must have been at least half a dozen heavy chains around his neck, one of which, to Ginnie's relief, sported a large crucifix.

"Please sit down, Jason," she said . "I can't imagine why Holly's taking so long getting ready. I thought we'd eat around eight. Would you like a beer while we're waiting for her?"

"Do you by any chance have any flavoured spring water? I'm rather into that at the moment, Mrs Sanders. I rarely drink alcohol."

"I'll see what we've got. Oh, by-the-way, please call me Ginnie. Every time you say Mrs Sanders, it makes me feel I'm back teaching."

As she went away to find some flavoured water, she reflected on the fact that she could see why Holly was so smitten with him. The black dreadlocks almost reached his shoulders. He had a tanned complexion and flashing eyes which were dark brown. There must be some Spanish or Italian there, she thought. He was around six feet and although of slim build, looked strong and healthy. He came, she decided, from good stock. However, it was the body piercing in his earlobes, nostril and upper lip which she found so disturbing in such an attractive young man. She wondered about him having it elsewhere and shuddered at the prospect.

She returned with some pear and blackberry flavoured water.

"Will this do?" she asked. "Holly bought it yesterday, now I know why."

He nodded and as he did, Holly, a vision in turquoise, came into the room. She was wearing a sarong style skirt, strappy sandals and the boob tube given to her by Ginnie the previous Christmas. The body art kit had been used to good advantage. There were intricate designs around her belly button, along her left arm and those on her feet looked impressively like ankle chains. Ginnie saw Jason's face light up.

"Hi, Babe," he said. "You look fabulous. Love the body art. It must have taken you ages."

"Yeah, it did take a fair amount of time. I knew you'd be impressed. I've Aunt Ginnie to thank for all of this. She bought me the kit." she turned to Ginnie. "When are we eating? I'm so hungry, my navel's tickling my backbone."

"Is it now? Then why don't you take Jason through to the dining room? Everything's ready, it's just got to be heated through." She looked at Jason. "I hope you like healthy food, Jason," she said. "You're not a pie and chips man are you?"

He shook his head. "Good heavens, no. My mother always cooks with fresh food."

*

To Ginnie's relief, the meal was a great success. Even the extra salad was wolfed away. She had placed a large bowl of floating candles at the centre of the table and hoping that Jason would not object too strongly to classical music, had decided to have some Mozart playing softly in the background.

"You've gone to a lot of trouble for us, Ginnie," said Jason. "It's much appreciated, isn't it Holly?"

"Yes, the candles are lovely and it's the first time I've eaten a meal with paprika. Thanks Aunt Ginnie." She began to gather up their empty plates. "What are we having for dessert?"

"Strawberry trifle which I bought at the supermarket."

"Lovely, my favourite."

After they had consumed the trifle, Ginnie said that she would go and make some coffee, which they could drink in the sitting room.

"I must feed Bathsheba first," said Holly, "and let her into the garden."

The hungry pooch made short work of her dinner, lapped down a few gulps of water and ambled out into the now by cooling air. It was almost nine o'clock. Jason and Holly followed her and sat on the bench inside the pergola, talking quietly. The air was sweet with the fragrance of honeysuckle and lavender. Ginnie watched them from the kitchen window as she made a start with loading dishes into the dishwasher.

I see what you mean about your aunt," said Jason. "She's cool. How long has she been on her own?"

"For ever, as far as I can remember. Her husband disappeared years ago when she was expecting their son, my cousin, Jonathan."

`"That's tough. And she's never considered remarrying?"

"She's never even filed for divorce. He was listed as a missing person so she doesn't even know if he's still alive. It's a shame she hasn't anyone else in her life. She's just about the most romantic person I know but she's convinced that one day Alan will return, though if he were to do that I doubt if she'd recognise him after all this time."

"Coffee's ready," Ginnie called from the kitchen door.

"Coming!" shouted Holly.

They walked slowly back, accompanied by Bathsheba who rarely left Holly's side and made for the sitting room. Ginnie joined them with the coffee and some After Eight mints.

Throughout the meal, Ginnie had been wondering how old Jason was and if he was still receiving education for surely he could not be at the same school as Holly. They would not allow the dreadlocks or body piercing. She broached the subject tactfully, fervently hoping that Jason would not think she was a sticky beak. She began by asking him how old he was, stressing the fact that he seemed very mature.

"I'll be eighteen next month," he told her.

"And what are your plans for the future? Are you still studying?

"I've just received my A Level results and I did okay. I've done well enough to get into university but my mother and stepfather have said that I can have a gap year before I do any more studying."

"And, what do you plan to do during this gap year?"

"Well, with the money I've saved from my weekend job stacking shelves at the local supermarket, together with that which I've made printing and selling T-shirts, I've enough to fly out to Spain and survive for a few weeks while I look for some work."

He looked at Ginnie and as she seemed interested, continued.

"I don't know if Holly's told you but I play classical guitar music. I've done some flamenco too so I thought I could try and get work playing in holiday bars." He frowned. "Failing that, I can always work just as a bar tender. There's bound to be something available. I wouldn't even mind washing dishes. I just want to experience living in Spain for a while."

"Why Spain?" asked Ginnie.

"Because there's Spanish blood in his veins," piped up Holly. "Isn't there, Jason?"

"Yes, my biological father is Spanish. He left me and my mother when I was quite small. The only contact I have with him now is when he sends cards and cheques at Christmas and on my birthday. I have this burning desire to catch up with him and find out just what makes him tick. There are so many questions I need to ask him."

Ginnie thought about Jonathan and how she had brought him up alone.

"Can you remember much about him?"

"Not really. He never had much time for me to tell the truth. I'm not sure he even liked me very much. All I can remember is that he was always working. " He looked sadly at Ginnie. "During the autumn following my ninth birthday, he told me he was going on a long business trip. It turned out to be some business trip. That was the last I ever saw of him."

"How did your mother manage?"

"At first not too well. We were dreadfully skint. At the time we lived in a somewhat isolated country cottage at the end of a dirt track. That was okay when my Dad was around because we had two vehicles for transport. After he left, Mum still continued to drive the five miles to my school but that winter the weather was dreadful and one morning, the car wouldn't start. It was an old banger, a Metro. There was no way that we could afford to get it repaired so I couldn't go to school." Jason paused as he sipped his coffee. "It was at that point that my mother decided to teach me herself at home. She okayed it with the local authority of course. She's been an educational psychologist before she married Dad and always thought they hadn't been stretching me enough at school and that my progress wasn't as great as it could have been."

Ginnie stood up and walked over to the window. Shafts of moonlight were flickering through the trees.

"Your mother must be a very clever woman," she said.

She pulled the curtains and was about to sit down again when the phone rang. She walked along the hallway to answer it then after a few minutes returned to the room.

"That was your father, Holly. The call was about Kate. Apparently she's being discharged from hospital tomorrow, which is good news, isn't it?"

Holly nodded.

"He mentioned something about there having been a misdiagnosis. I wonder what he meant."

Jason rose to his feet.

"I should be going anyway," he said. "I'll leave the two of you to have a family chat. It's been a lovely evening, Ginnie. I really enjoyed the meal." He turned to Holly. "Would you like to do something tomorrow evening?" he asked. "Perhaps we could go to the cinema."

"I'd love that, I'll phone you in the morning."

"You mntioned that you had a step father," said Ginnie as they were seeing Jason out. "Do you both get on?"

"Yes, he's great. A good bloke who respects my individuality without question. He's a G.P. and his name's Paul." He grinned. "Oh, and I've got a baby sister too. She's four going on five and her name's Saffron. Now, I really must go. I promised I'd baby sit as soon as I got back . Mum and Dad want to go out.

They watched him as he got on his bike and cycled along the lane.

"I'm most impressed, Holly," said he aunt as they went back indoors. "What a lovely young man and so polite. As far as I'm concerned, he can come here any time while I'm staying with you."

### Chapter 12

The day following Kate's final appointment with Luciano McKinnon, her parents arrived at the hospital to take her home. Cassie became tearful when it was time to say goodbye.

"How on earth am I going to survive in this place without you?" she said. "It's you who's kept me going. Now I'll have nobody to talk to or have a laugh with."

"You'll be okay," Kate replied. "I wouldn't think you'll be here much longer anyway. Why don't you get someone to buy you a notebook? Then you'll be able to write down what you've experienced since your arrival. You could even write about me," she grinned. "You never know, it could make interesting reading and writing's extremely therapeutic. You might even get it published one day."

"Yeah, yeah," said Cassie, "and pigs might fly."

They exchanged addresses and telephone numbers and as Kate picked up her handbag, she called out "Remember to keep in touch. I want to know the minute your baby arrives if it's a boy or girl."

Bill picked up her luggage and as they were walking out of the ward muttered "You don't want to keep in touch with anyone from in here."

"Dad, I can't believe you actually said that. How could you? You should be ashamed of yourself . Cassie's a lovely person and she's been a wonderful friend to me while I've been here. I most definitely will be keeping in touch with her," Kate replied. "As far as I'm concerned there are more sane people right here in this ward than there are in the outside world. They're just people who for one reason or another have found it difficult to cope. You want to consider yourself lucky not to have been afflicted with mental illness, though I suppose you see it as some form of weakness," she added. "Life's so stressful these days, anyone could have a breakdown. It's not considered a stigma any more. Not everyone has a relaxing job like landscape gardening," she seethed.

*

The journey to Kate's house took about half an hour. Nobody said much on the way. Bill and Emma had both been surprised by Kate's outburst.

"I can't wait to see the children, I've missed them dreadfully. When are we picking them up?" asked Kate, breaking the silence.

"You'll not be seeing them until tomorrow," Emma replied. "And, we won't be picking them up. Mrs Robinson, the social worker will be collecting them from the foster family and bringing them home. We all thought it would be a good idea for you to have a day without the children so you could get used to being at home first."

The following morning, while she ate the breakfast which Emma had prepared for her, Kate wondered how the children would react to seeing her again.

At around eleven, they arrived with Mrs Robinson, who brought back everything they had used in a suitcase. As Kate looked out of the front window she could see Lucy toddling up the path, clutching a very small shopping basket. She swallowed to get rid of the lump in her throat and brushed away a tear. Lucy hammered on the door and when Kate opened it, flung herself round her mother's knees.

"Mama home!" she shouted.

"Yes, I'm back. Hello darling," said Kate, scooping her up in her arms. "What've you got in there?" she asked, pointing at the basket.

"Sweeties," Lucy replied as she handed the basket to her. While all of this had been going on, Jake had been waiting quietly behind his sister.

"Hi, Mum," he said. "It's great to have you back."

Kate looked fondly at him before saying, "It's great to be back. I've missed you both so much." she gave him a hug and as he clung to her said "now, come and fill me in on what you've been doing while I was away. I want to know everything."

They walked through to the living room where Bill and Emma were waiting.

*

Kate slowly settled back into her old routine, the routine which she had had before her illness. As Jake was still on his school holiday, each afternoon, Emma and Bill took the children to the local park and she was able to rest. Tiredness was still a problem and Kate felt the need to go to bed each evening soon after the children themselves had been put to bed. However, everything would be easier by the beginning of September when Jake returned to school.

Two weeks later, the week before the start of the new school year, Emma and Bill announced that they would be returning south the following weekend.

"It's up to you now," said her mother. "Just take one day at a time. Things will soon improve now you're taking the thyroxine and you'll be back to normal before you know it."

Kate nodded, feeling a mixture of elation as well as trepidation. The prospect of being on her own again with the children and in control of her life once more was wonderful. But, she could not help wondering if she would be able to cope, having been pampered so much since her return from hospital.

*

Bill and Emma left on the Sunday morning and as they drove away, Jake took Kate's hand.

"I know they're my Nana and Grandpa, and I shouldn't say this," he said, "but I'm glad they're going home. It'll be nice to be on our own again, Mum."

"I know what you mean, Jake," she replied. "Now, go and fetch Lucy will you. I think we should celebrate and go out for the day, don't you?"

*

As well as taking the thyroxine tablets, Kate began to exercise daily and put herself on a healthy diet. By the end of six weeks, she had lost a stone in weight and felt revitalised.

During September they experienced an Indian summer and spent as much of their free time out of doors as was possible for the nights were beginning to draw in. Then came October and everything changed. By now autumn was well advanced and the days grew colder. And, it rained for days on end, making everyone feel miserable at the approach of winter.

On a particularly dark and depressing Saturday morning, Kate was sitting in Anna's kitchen, drinking coffee while Lucy balanced bricks on the floor. . There was a pile of unwashed dishes in the sink and a heap of dirty clothes in the corner. Kate looked at her friend.

"What we need is a girls' night out," she remarked. "The sort of night out we had when we were young and fancy free."

Anna looked at her tearfully. She was, as one might say, 'between blokes', having recently broken up with her partner of five years, whom people now had to refer to as 'the bastard'. Phil had done a runner with his secretary a few weeks previously and Anna, heartbroken, was having a hard time coming to terms with the situation. Seeing as Anna was a good mate, Kate felt it was her duty to try and cheer her up.

"Oh, I don't know, Kate," she replied. "It would be such an effort having to get ready and I haven't a thing to wear."

"Don't be daft! We won't go anywhere posh. There's a new bar manager at 'Applejacks'. Everyone's talking about him. Come on, we haven't been out for ages. It'll be a laugh. The new owners have really done the place up apparently and I'm dying to see the result."

Kate looked at Anna. It was almost noon and she was still wearing her decidedly grubby dressing gown, a sure sign of depression.

"I'll not take 'no' for an answer," she continued. "It's all settled then. All I've got to do now is arrange about a babysitter. You've plenty of time to look through your wardrobe and get your glad rags on. I'll arrange for a taxi for around nine."

She picked up her coat. "Must dash. Come on Lucy, we need to do some shopping.

*

They arrived at 'Applejacks' at around nine thirty. Anna looked stunning but then she was the kind of girl who could look stunning in just a shirt and jeans, which was what she had opted to wear. Admittedly the shirt was made of silk and the jeans were designer wear. However it was her hair that people noticed first. Naturally blonde tresses cascaded about her shoulders, framing an impressive pair of eyes, set in a perfectly oval face. In fact, everything about her was perfect, except perhaps her taste in men.

The only way that Kate could describe Anna's eyes was to say that they reminded her of bluebottle flies in the sun. They were greenish blue. Kate knew that she paled into insignifcance beside her, being, in her own words, 'the plain but clever one'. She reckoned that if people liked her at all it was for her mind. Anna was beautiful.

The new bar manager's name was Luke and he was American, a New Englander to be precise. Word had gone round the village that he could toss bottles and glasses around in much the same way as Tom Cruise in 'Cocktail'. Like many others there, Kate and Anna had come along to judge for themselves and see if he would break anything during his routine.

"How old do you reckon he is?" asked Kate.

"He's probably in his late thirties or early forties. It's difficult to judge. I've always been hopeless where age is concerned."

"His hair isn't natural," replied Kate and grinned when she saw the look of surprise on Anna's face.

"How can you tell?"

"Because it doesn't look natural under the harshness of the bar lighting."

"So what? It doesn't matter. Maybe he is a bit vain. I still think he's very attractive. I'm glad we came."

"He's not tall enough for me," Kate remarked. "I like a man I can look up to."

But one thing was certain. In spite of his apparent shortcomings, Luke was suave, sophisticated and had an easy way with women. Looking and listening to what was going on around her, it was obvious to Kate that women found his slow, American drawl, dark hair, and handsome, tanned features, irresistible.

Earlier, when he had entered the bar, Kate noticed many women of all ages, turn expectantly in his direction, waiting for the entertainment to begin. Like Tom Cruise he was short in stature but this seemed to do nothing to detract from his charisma. As the saying goes 'size isn't important, it's what you do with it'. Luke the bar manager was undoubtedly good for business 'Applejacks' was on to a good thing.

He had an air of confidence which many men found irritating, particularly when he homed in on their partners. Kate, unlike Anna , was not taken in by such a man. She was sure it was all an act and that deep down he was most probably trying to hide sadness and feelings of inadequacy with all the patter.

So that they could get a good look at him, Kate and Anna opted for parking themselves on a couple of bar stools, instead of sitting at a table.

"Haven't they done this place up brilliantly?" said Kate. "I'm most impressed." Anna nodded. The bar itself was circular and enormous. There must have been about twenty bartenders but they continually kept on disappearing round the other side so it was easy to lose count of just how many there actually were.

The bottle and glass tossing began. Quite a few of the bartenders had a go but nobody was a patch on Luke. He was magnificent. In between serving drinks, he rang his own special ship's bell as an indication that he had just received a tip.

It was not long before Anna was chatting to one of the bartenders. She did not fancy _him_ but probed him on information about Luke.

"Is he married?" she asked.

"Yes and no," he replied. "Hey, Luke, come over here. These two ladies would like to talk to you."

"Hi there," said Luke, sauntering over. "This must be my lucky night." He looked at both of them. Kate blushed and giggled. But, it was obvious that she was not being addressed. It was Anna.

"Go for it," she whispered, thinking that he was probably a tosser in more ways than one but it would do Anna good to have some fun.

Luke could tell the most illuminating stories but Kate doubted if they were true. They discovered that he had married a dancer a few years back and left the States to come to England because it was easier for his wife to find work here. The relationship had proved to be childless, which was probably a blessing for according to another bartender, Luke was now in the throes of a very messy divorce.

Anna, captivated by his charms, found to her delight that they had something in common. Both were vegetarian. He was, in her eyes, the ideal man.

"I can't believe it, he's gorgeous," she said excitedly, as Luke went round to the other side of the bar. "Did you notice his body language and the way he looked at me?"

Kate, a naturally cynical person, had seen it all before and was hard to convince. Luke flirted mercilessly with Anna all evening, giving her free drinks, while other women were clamouring for his attention.

"I'm in love," said Anna, as Luke disappeared once again.

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't know anything about him. You've only known him five minutes," replied Kate, certain that it would all end in tears. She had this gut reaction which refused to go away, that he was bad news. After all, he was here every evening, probably with the same line of patter. It was part of his job. He must surely try it on with every woman he fancied. But, on the other hand, maybe there was something special about the way he drawled:

"Here you are, Princess. Drink this. On the house."

By now, Kate was more than slightly tiddly from drinks which she had had to pay for. She found herself giggling at more or less everything. Tired of playing gooseberry, she made her excuses to Anna and went off to phone for a taxi.

*

During the week, whenever Kate met up with her, Anna talked incessantly about Luke. Kate promised to arrange about a babysitter again for the following Saturday, so that they could return to 'Applejacks'.

Anna indulged herself with an expensive new hair style and did what she always did when she fancied a new bloke. She blew about half of her salary on high heeled, strappy shoes and a sexy, low-cut dress.

To Kate's relief, the weekend finally arrived. Although she had promised Anna that she would go with her, Kate was not really relishing the thought of a night out. But, being a true friend she was not going to let Anna down.

"Let's sit at the bar again," said Anna. "I've more chance of talking to him there."

A blond, fresh-faced youth served them. Kate thought he looked far too young to be a bartender and suddenly felt very old.

"Where's Luke?" asked Anna.

"It's his night off but if you want to talk to him, he's over there with his girl friend," he replied.

Kate and Anna both looked over to the far end of the bar and there, indeed, sat Luke cosily at a table in the corner. When he turned and saw the two of them looking at him, his embarrassment had to be seen to be believed. After a few moments, he came over to where they were sitting.

"Hallo, Princess," he said to Anna. Kate could not help but notice the bead of perspiration on his upper lip. She turned away.

"I need a drink," she said, turning her back on them. "Bartender!" she called to the young, blond fellow they had spoken to previously. "Rum and blackcurrant, please. It looks like it's going to be one of those nights."

Luke talked to Anna for a few minutes and then went back to his seat.

"What's with the girl friend?" asked Kate.

"Her name's Olivia. They're getting engaged soon and in the process of moving into the flat above this place. You were right, Kate. I should have listened to you. He was just toying with me," she said, close to tears. "Why does it always happen to me? Why am I so gullible?"

"You tend to trust people you don't know. Just chalk it up as experience. And, for goodness sake don't let the tosser see you crying," Kate replied. "I could see through him all the time. I've met men like him before. He's most probably a misogynist. Probably deep down, although he would never admit it, he hates women and gets his kicks by wounding them by rejection. You were easy prey.," she continued. "He no doubt realised that you were fed up and turned on the charm to get you hooked. He's probably got a buzz out of hurting you emotionally."

"Blame it on his mother. It's probably something to do with the relationship which he had with her. She most probably emotionally abused him as a child," she added. "I've read about such things. Just be thankful that you're not Olivia. Imagine what kind of life she'll have."

The bottle and glass throwing began but it was nowhere as good as the week before.

"Can we go?" said Anna.

"Certainly not. We both need to get drunk first, then we'll go home."

Kate finished her rum and blackcurrant and as she turned to ask Anna what she wanted, she saw him looking at her in the large mirror on the far wall. It was a face she immediately recognised. A handsome though somewhat grave face, topped by a mop of unruly, black hair. He smiled at her. It was Luciano McKinnon.

### Chapter 13

When a parent dies, there is often a degree of guilt as well as a sense of loss. There are feelings that one should have been kinder, more considerate, listened longer and said nicer things.

Luciano somehow managed to get through the days leading up to the funeral. His mother, Isabella, had decided not to attend but on the day sent some beautiful flowers, inscribed with a couple of lines from Shakespeare which Andrew had been fond of. What an enigma she was, thought Luciano. She must never really have stopped loving him. She also sent her son a letter, expressing her deepest sympathy, telling him that she would like to see him over in Venice whenever he could get away. She did not think it would be appropriate for her to attend the funeral but she would be thinking of him.

A small, select gathering of mourners congregated for the service. Jordan Simpson, the brother of Andrew's second wife, Rebecca, was there with his wife, Diana and although they were estranged, Rachel, Luciano's wife also unexpectedly turned up to give him moral support. She had been very fond of Andrew and could not let the day pass without paying her respects.

Mourners who were not family, numbered about twenty. Family friends Doctor Stuart Carson and his wife Elizabeth, were joined by one or two local artists and a group of former students whom Andrew had taught at evening classes. There were also members from the local branch of the RSPB of which Andrew had been an active member prior to having his first stroke.

With the exception of the students whom Andrew had taught, the rest of the party returned to Dove Cottage for some refreshment. Mrs Perry, bustling around like a mother hen, had put on a good spread and Luciano circulated amongst the mourners, some of whom he was meeting for the first time.

As people began to slowly drift away, Rachel cornered him in the kitchen.

"We need to talk," she said. "Why haven't you answered my letters? I want a divorce because I want to get married again. Oh, and we'll have to make arrangements about selling the house and splitting the proceeds."

She saw his dazed expression as he looked incredulously at her but this did not deter her from continuing. "I know you're grieving and that this is a bad time but surely you too could do with a fresh start, away from all the memories."

"You know, you're something else. You're right. It is a bad time. In fact it's a bloody awful time to be thinking about such things. Have you no sense of decency?" He put his hands up to his face and rubbed his eyes. "My father has just been cremated and I haven't even scattered his ashes. And, here you are talking about divorce and everything else that it entails."

"I'm sorry, Luciano. It's just that you haven't answered my letters. Surely you don't want us to remain married, do you?" She took a sip of her drink. "Not after the way I treated you?"

"No, I certainly don't but there's a time and place for everything. Look, we can't talk now. Why don't you stay here for tonight. You can sleep in the back bedroom. We'll talk later when everyone's gone."

"Well, I had planned to check in at the local hotel. Are you sure you don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind in the least. In fact, you'd be doing me a favour. To tell you the truth I could do with some help." He started to walk towards the door. "I'd like some advice about what to do with the cottage now Dad's gone. Apart from his paintings and any other personal effects which I'll keep for sentimental reasons, I'll have to make arrangements for the disposal of everything else."

Rachel finished her drink. "We'll talk about this later," she said. "Once everyone's left. Now, don't you think you should be getting back to your guests?"

*

An hour later, everyone else had departed. Rachel made them both some strong coffee and after drinking this, they walked to the nearest convenience store where they purchased more booze and some large packs of bin bags.

"I've got to decide whether to sell the cottage or hold on to it and turn it into a holiday home which I could let out when I'm not personally using it.," he told her as they walked back. "What would you do if you were me?"

"If you're feeling sentimental about the place, it's probably best to hold on to it. You could always sell it at a later date. The holiday home idea is a good one as it would create a more or less continuous flow of income." She paused. "I can imagine people even wanting to come here during the depths of winter. Dorset's such a lovely county."

"If I do that, I'll need a substantial bank loan in order to get improvements done," he replied, "and I can see me having to spend every spare moment I have overseeing everything."

The first thing they did when they got back was to make a start with Andrew's study, where there were a number of cupboards as well as his bureau to sort out.

"I think it's probably best to divide everything in the cottage into three groups," said Luciano. "Things which I'm keeping, those which are to go to Oxfam, clothes for example and anything else can be thrown out with the rubbish."

"How long do you think this is all going to take?"

"I would imagine that a couple of days should be enough. I told the department that I would need a few days to sort everything out and there were no objections so there's no real rush as far as I'm concerned. Naturally I will do most of it on my own but thanks for helping out this evening."

"What do you plan to do with his paintings?" asked Rachel as she took one off the wall. "I've always loved this one." It was a particularly impressive scene of the lighthouse at Anvil Point.

"If that's your favourite, it's yours," he replied. "Dad would have wanted you to have it, had he known you liked it so much."

"Are you being serious? You are, aren't you? It's probably quite valuable. Thank you, Luciano. I'm most touched. I'll treasure it always."

"I'm keeping the others. At least, until I can decide what to do with them. I've a strong feeling there'll be more in the attic. I mustn't forget to have a look after I've finished down here."

They started to rummage through drawers, marvelling at the way elderly people hoard so much which to many younger people would be considered as junk. Luciano sifted through newspaper cuttings, magazines, journals and letters. He was surprised that his father had kept all the letters which he had written to him while he was at medical school. They were in a bundle, secured by a couple of elastic bands. Birth, marriage and death certificates were neatly filed away in a large, brown foolscap envelope. He placed all of these into a box which he would later put into the car and then, at the back of a drawer, discovered his father's binoculars. A feeling of deep sadness overcame him as he thought about the boat trips with him and Andrew's increased interest in wild birds, after his retirement, when he became a member of the RSPB.

"I'm keeping these binoculars," she said quietly. "Maybe I too should take up bird watching. It's a healthy pursuit with all that fresh air and it would be good to have a hobby. Not many people seem to have hobbies these days, do they?"

"No. I suppose everyone's too concerned with work and making money. I think that's a positive idea, Luciano. You need to be positive right now. I should develop a hobby too. All I seem to do when I have free time is go to the gym and it's so boring. I hardly feel like making the effort sometimes."

Luciano had found the drawer containing photo albums. There was one devoted entirely to himself from when he was the tiniest baby, right through school and up to his graduation. Snapshots of him and Rachel when they had just become engaged were there too, together with a studio portrait of their wedding.

"I'd no idea this album even existed. He's kept a record of everything. Look, even my school reports are here. I suppose it might be nice to show them to any children I might have one day."

"You love the idea of children, don't you? I was a shame that I didn't feel the same way," she replied, looking over his shoulder.

In another album there were photographs of him with Andrew and Rebecca, his father's second wife from the time when she moved into the cottage to look after them. He looked at the wedding photographs and at Rebecca's smiling face. His father had never totally recovered from the shock of the tragedy. Rachel, still looking over his shoulder said:

"That's the first time I've seen these photographs. She looks as though she was a nice person. Poor Andrew."

"She was and we both loved her. Of course she could never have replaced my mother but she did make Dad happy for the short time they were together."

"How did she die?"

"It was around a month before Christmas, the end of November. She'd gone with a friend from work to do some Christmas shopping in London. It was a coach trip that had been arranged, a sort of package deal I think, where they would do shopping, see a West End show, then stay overnight in a hotel before travelling back the following day."

"What happened? Did the coach crash?"

"No, it was nothing like that. They must have gone into a newsagents to buy a street guide. Neither she nor Sarah knew London very well. Rebecca had the guide in her hand when they eventually found her body. Apparently there had been an explosion. A bomb went off. No group admitted responsibility but it was generally thought to be the work of some separatist organisation."

"How dreadful."

"When she didn't return I remember Dad being distraught. He'd seen on the news that there had been a bomb blast. It was two days before the police knocked at the door to say that both of their bodies had been found under a pile of rubble. Rebecca had been six months pregnant."

"Oh, my Lord. No wonder Andrew never spoke about her while I was around. "

"As you can imagine he took it very badly. He told me that from then on it would be just the two of us. He would never, ever, get himself into a relationship again. I was ten years old."

They both looked at their own wedding photograph again.

"You looked so beautiful," he whispered. "When and why did it all go wrong?"

"You looked pretty good yourself."

They gazed at each other as the years slipped away. Suddenly they were caught up in a passionate embrace, kissing fervently. Then Luciano pulled away from her.

"How on earth did that happen?" he asked.

"It must have been a combination of too much booze and nostalgia. Don't be so uptight, Luciano. We haven't done anything wrong. After all we are still married."

"Yes but we don't love each other any more. You've got Dan and I'm in love with someone else. That should never have happened. We both need to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning before you leave."

*

Following a restless night, when he finally surfaced and opened the curtains, the sky was dark and threatening. Rachel had already left, making her feelings quite plain as to how she felt about the previous evening.

He had the most dreadful hangover so, after making a strong cup of coffee, returned to bed to sleep it off, stirring again at around noon. A quick look out of the window confirmed what he had expected. The heavens had opened, the sky was leaden and it looked as though the rain, which was torrential, would last for some time.

Having finally sorted out his father's study, he went upstairs to deal with the sad task of deciding which of his clothes should be thrown out and which could be used by Oxfam. He phoned the nearest branch and asked if it would be possible for someone to collect those items which would be of use to them.

He decided that he would deal with the furniture during his next visit but packed up all of the books which lined the study walls into cardboard boxes. They weighed a ton as books always do so he decided to take only three boxes with him on this particular occasion. All the paintings from the study he packed carefully into the boot of his car, before going up to inspect the attic.

He had been right to assume that there would be more paintings there. Most of them were of Venetian scenes and quite probably had been painted before he was born, during the time when his parents had got together. There were too many to take with him. Perhaps his mother would like some? This again was something he would have to deal with later.

By late evening, probably because he was alone, depression had well and truly set in. He decided to go back to work the following day. However, there was one last deed he had to do before his departure.

In the morning he rose early and after eating breakfast, said a final goodbye to his father by scattering his ashes. Back at the cottage, he phoned Mrs Perry.

"I'm leaving today," he told her. "The car's all packed up and I'll be off in around ten minutes. If I compensate you for your trouble, do you think you could help me by popping into the cottage each day to make sure everything is in order?" he asked. "I'm worried about leaving it unattended and I'm not sure when I'll be able to come down again but I'll let you know."

"I'd be delighted to do that," she replied, "and I'll give the place an airing once in a while so that when you do return everything will be nice and fresh. There's no need for any compensation. I was very fond of your father."

"That's very kind of you. Oh, before I forget. Do you by any chance know any reputable decorators?"

"My brother in law's a retired decorator but he still does work sometimes."

"Oh, that's excellent. I'd be most grateful if he could paint the entire inside of the place with white emulsion to make everything look brighter for when I decide to either sell or let it. Tell him he doesn't have to rush. He can take as long as he likes." He paused as a wave of nausea overcame him. "You have my address so perhaps he could give me an estimate of the cost of materials. I'll send a cheque to cover this and the labour of course. Thank you, Mrs Perry."

"Good luck, Luciano. Take care of yourself and try not to worry too much."

*

During the weeks that followed, Luciano arranged for the house which he had shared with Rachel, to go on the market. He also contacted a solicitor and started divorce proceedings. While all of this was going on he immersed himself in work to take his mind off Kate. Each night he would return to an empty house and drink himself into oblivion, only to wake the following morning for the pattern to be repeated.

He could not get the vision of her out of his mind and wondered why she had not phoned. He found himself looking at horoscopes for the first time in his life just to see what it said about Pisces. He tried to imagine what she would be doing with her children, how she would be spending her days.

Then, one Saturday, he woke and found it difficult to visualise her face clearly. Surely the memory of her could not be fading already? This made him panic. He was in a mess.

It was in such a state, that a colleague, fellow psychiatrist, Craig Thomas, found him later that morning, in the hospital canteen, staring moodily into his coffee.

"Now there's a man who looks like he hasn't taken his Prozac," he joked, as he limped over and sat down beside him. "What's wrong?"

Tall, sandy haired and slim, Craig had been involved in a car crash a few years back which had left him with one leg slightly shorter than the other.

"If you must know, I'm going through just about the worst time in my life. My marriage has just gone down the plug hole, my father, to whom I was very close died last week and the woman I'm in love with, hasn't got in touch even though she's got my number." He drained his coffee cup. "I mean, I ask you how much worse can my life get?"

"We were all very sorry to hear about your father. Regarding the situation in general about how life could get worse. You could develop a terminal illness, I suppose, though under the circumstances that probably wouldn't worry you, in fact you'd probably welcome it." He grinned as he stared down at Luciano's ankles. "Got dressed in a hurry, did you?"

Luciano looked down to see what he was referring to and found that he was wearing one navy and one dark red sock. He grinned, sheepishly.

"Do you know something?" he replied. "I'm pretty certain I've another pair like that in my sock drawer."

"Well, at least you've not completely lost your sense of humour, mate. Look, you seriously need cheering up. It's Jenny's birthday today, you know, the girl I've been seeing recently, the one who works in A and E. She's organised a get together at a place called "Applejacks" and told me to take other members of the department along. She's got a thing about psychiatrists. How do you fancy it?"

"I hate parties."

"Come on. It'll do you good to start socialising again."

"No it won't. I hate the thought of having to talk to someone I've never seen before in my life about something in which I'm not the slightest bit interested."

"You can't go on like this, Luciano. Everyone's worried about you. You've got to make some kind of effort. You never know. It might turn out to be a right laugh. I'll be round at yours at nine."

### Chapter 14

It was Luciano's first visit to Applejacks and he was surprised that the place was so large. Typically American, he thought, as he settled down to drink the night away.

"How's it going, mate?" asked Craig as he brought their drinks over. "Now, let me see. If someone you don't know tries to make conversation with you, the best way to put them at their ease, is to make them feel superior. You could try admitting that you're stupid, sad or unlucky, which shouldn't be too difficult as the last two are true."

Luciano looked at his colleague with narrowed eyes. "Thanks a bunch, Craig. Now, considering that it was you who brought me to this establishment, why don't you get back to Jenny and let me enjoy this beer in peace."

Craig, having given him up as a lost cause, did as he was told and limped off to find her. Luciano looked towards the large, circular bar where three bartenders were tossing bottles and glasses into the air. Who do they think they are, he thought. Tom Cruise?

Two women were sitting at the bar on a couple of stools. They had their backs to him and he could not help noticing them because they were so different. The brunette wore her hair in a shoulder length bob. The blonde had curly tresses reaching right down her back.

She was hunched over and seemed distressed. Her dark haired companion appeared to be trying to comfort her and as the companion turned in his direction, although thinner in the face than he remembered and with a different hair style, Luciano realised that the woman was Kate.

His heart started to race with the rush of adrenaline. The two women were reflected in the enormous bar mirror. As Kate glanced over, he was aware of a flicker of recognition passing over her face. He smiled at her. His mouth was dry and his legs felt like jelly as he rose from the table where he was sitting and walked towards the bar.

Kate whispered something to Anna and rose to meet him.

"Hello, Kate," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Hello, Luciano," she replied. "Can you give me five minutes? Just go back to your table. I'll be with you shortly."

She went back to Anna. Luciano returned to his seat and his beer. He watched them chatting for a few moments. The blonde girl looked at her watch and then together they left the bar.

Moodily staring into his glass, Luciano thought he had once more blown it. She had no idea how desperate he was. She might even have done a runner.

After what seemed to him like eternity but was probably no more than a few minutes, Kate returned. She walked over to his table and sat down beside him. He was very conscious of her nearness and the effect she had on him.

"Sorry about that," she said. "I had to ring for a taxi. My friend isn't well and needed to go home." She paused as he gazed at her. "In answer to your question, I don't come here regularly. I came with Anna because she thought she had a thing going with the bar manager but as things turned out, she didn't. He turned out to be a complete tosser. But, I do like the atmosphere here. It's a great place to come to if you feel like a really good night out."

Luciano grinned. "A tosser in more ways than one," he said, glancing towards the bar. "It's a first for me. How wonderful it is to see you again, Kate. I've waited and waited for you to ring. Why didn't you get in touch?"

"I've been busy with the children. I've needed to give them a lot of quality time since I returned home. Thank heavens things are at last getting back to normal."

He gazed at her and nodded. "That's good but changing the subject, what have you done to yourself?" he asked. "You look fabulous. You've lost weight, haven't you? And, I love the new hair style. It really suits you ."

"Thank you," she smiled. "Yes, I've made a big effort to get fit again and I think it's paid off. How are you? You seemed very down the last time I saw you. How have you been coping since your father's funeral?"

"I'm ashamed to say I've not been coping well at all. I wouldn't have come out tonight if a mate hadn't dragged me along." He finished his beer. "Have you eaten? Let's go for a meal somewhere. For the first time in days I actually feel hungry. There's a nice little Italian place not far from here."

He seemed so desperately anxious for her company that although she had already eaten, Kate nodded. He went away and phoned for a taxi.

*

The restaurant was quiet and exclusive and was a welcome change from the noisy atmosphere of Applejacks. As they looked at the menu, Kate explained that she was not really hungry and chose something light. However, Luciano gave the impression that he was eating for England and eagerly devoured what was put in front of him. Kate looked approvingly at him.

"I like a man who enjoys his food," she said.

During the meal, they talked as though they had known each other for years. Luciano found himself telling Kate about his childhood, his mother, Isabella and how she had left him and his father. He told her too about his father's subsequent loss when Rebecca died in the bomb blast and Andrew's continued loneliness from that point onwards in his life.

"Tell me about your wife," said Kate. "When we last spoke you said you were in the process of getting a divorce. Why didn't the marriage work? Was there any particular reason or did you just drift further and further apart like so many couples?"

"Rachel said I was married to my work and didn't pay her enough attention. What she didn't seem to realise was that I deliberately worked long hours just so as I wouldn't have to go home." He paused. "It wasn't always like that of course. Things were okay for the first couple of years or so before the rot set in. It's difficult to analyse these things but suddenly it seemed as if I couldn't do a thing right. She was continually nagging me about more or less everything." He took a sip of his wine. "I guess there's a limit to just how much one can take, which is the reason why I threw myself wholeheartedly into my work. It was better than going home to a nagging wife."

"Did anything specific happen to cause the final split?"

"Oh, yes. I went home unexpectedly one afternoon and found her in our bed with some bloke I'd never seen before in my life."

"Oh, my God."

"I later discovered that his name was Dan and that she had met him at the gym." He grinned, ruefully. "He did me a favour in a way because he finally brought everything to a head. What gutted me was that he was twelve years my junior and a right cocky little so and so."

"Poor you."

He looked into her eyes, took both of her hands in his and said, quietly, "You do realise that I'm completely and hopelessly in love with you, don't you?"

Kate returned his gaze thoughtfully and sighed.

"I wonder if you'd still love me if you knew the truth. The real reason why James left me. Oh yes, he was having an affair. He was always having affairs, that was the kind of man he was. But, that wasn't the reason why he finally left. I didn't tell you everything when we had our sessions at the hospital."

Luciano looked puzzled.

"Look, it's getting late, " she said. "You need to know what happened eight years ago. Why don't you sleep at my place tonight? Both of the children are staying with friends so you can use Jake's room. I'll explain everything over a cup of coffee."

*

Artemis, goddess of wild nature and childbirth, was elusive and continually disappearing into the distance so when the all powerful Zeus, King of the gods summoned his messenger, Hermes to bring his daughter to him, Hermes knew it would be a difficult task. She could be hovering over meadows and lakes or her bright spirit might be found wafting in the solitude of forests of mountains. Her feet were so light, she could only run or dance and when Hermes eventually found her, she was dancing with her virgin nymphs in the forest, near Mount Olympus, from where Zeus ruled.

As he approached her, Hermes saw Artemis take an arrow from the quiver which she carried and slot it into her bow. She took aim and fired. The arrow struck Callisto , one of her nymphs, painlessly through the heart. Extinguished, Callisto fell to the ground, the smile of life upon her lips.

" _Why did you kill her?" asked Hermes._

" _You know I am a virgin goddess and demand that all my followers dedicate themselves to purity. Callisto has lain with my father, Zeus and carries his child."_

" _But, Zeus has had many love affairs with both goddesses and mortal women."_

" _Callisto was weak. She should have resisted him."_

"So be it. I come as a messenger. Your father wishes to see you immediately."

*

The baby's constant kicking woke her up. The dream had been beautiful and she was reluctant to leave it. She had been floating through a field of cornflowers. There was the sound of the sea and the distant cry of seagulls.

Stretching as much as was possible in her heavily pregnant state, Kate pulled the duvet over her face in a vain attempt to block out the sun which was streaming through a gap in the curtains. It was mid June. The weather was hot and oppressive. From all accounts, if you could believe the forecast, today was going to be as much of a scorcher as yesterday. Kate, feeling like a beached whale, was convinced she would be pregnant for ever.

She was vaguely aware of activity downstairs. James must be getting ready to leave for Milan. There would be time for her to have another snooze, baby permitting. However, James had other ideas as he plodded upstairs.

"Tea for my lady," he said, putting her early morning cuppa on the bedside table. "I'll have to make tracks soon, if I'm going to catch that flight. Here's the telephone number of the hotel. I'll put it on top of your novel."

"Good morning to you too," she replied. "Let's hope junior doesn't make an appearance while you're gone."

"This Italian trip was arranged weeks ago. It's not likely that the baby will come while I'm away. It's not due for another week and anyway, according to the books, most first babies are late."

He bent over and kissed the top of her head.

"Take care," he whispered. "I'll be in touch later this evening."

*

About half an hour later, when she realised James had gone, Morag, their West Highland Terrier pup, scrambled up onto the bed and licked Kate's face.

"Okay, I know you need a walk," she said. "Let me have a bath and a bite to eat first."

She walked through to the bathroom and turned on both taps so that the water would be cool and after a refreshing soak, slipped on the flimsiest garment which she could find. A blue, voluminous, tent-like affair. After pushing her feet into a pair of espadrilles, she made her way clumsily downstairs and into the kitchen. She let Morag into the garden and left the door wide open as the heat was already almost unbearable.

After selecting a banana and pear from the fruit bowl, she went over to the fridge and poured herself an ice-cold tumbler of milk which she enjoyed while sitting at the kitchen table.

"That's better," she said as she looked at the pup lying at her feet. "It'll just have to be round the block this morning." She reached for Morag's lead. "I'm knackered and my back's killing me."

As she left the house, she called in to see Chrissie, next door.

"I'm okay," she said. "James has just left for Milan."

Chrissie, with three children of her own, who had been looking out for her during the pregnancy, smiled and nodded. Kate had made arrangements to leave a key with her should she suddenly go into labour so that Chrissie could look after Morag, should James not be around.

She must have been only about twenty yards from home when she felt the first twinge of pain.

"Oh, my God," she gasped. "I can't be starting. Not now. Not when I'm on my own." The pain subsided and she carried on walking but half way round the block, the same feeling once more overwhelmed her.

Come on, Morag. We're going back," she said to the surprised pup as she doubled over with pain.

Back at the house, she tried not to panic and made a cup of tea. As she sat down she experienced another pain which was more intense than the previous two. This is it, she thought. I really have started but I've got to keep calm. In Africa, women have babies while leaning against a tree.

She reached for the telephone and accidentally knocked over the cup of tea. The hot fluid dripped down into her lap. She felt a burning sensation. Her dress was soaked.

"Ouch! Shit!" she exclaimed getting up from the chair.

After changing into a clean dress, she contacted the hospital and was asked how far apart the contractions were.

"About ten minutes, I think," said Kate.

"It may be a false alarm but you'd better come in straight away in case the contractions become more frequent," said the midwife.

Kate left Morag and her front door key with Chrissie and phoned for a taxi. She put her suitcase, which had been packed for almost a month 'just in case' at the front door, after checking that she had the phone number of the hotel in Milan and her writer's journal. Over the past ten weeks, to ease the burden and boredom of pregnancy, she had been researching Greek Mythology. Kate wrote in her spare time, mainly for children and was preparing a collection of stories which she had been commissioned to write for a children's anthology. The work was almost complete and in some ways she was annoyed that the baby might be coming earlier than expected because everything would have to be put on hold for a few weeks.

*

As Artemis approached her father, she was conscious of the charisma of this majestic, bearded man.

" _You wanted to see me father?"_

" _Yes, Artemis. You will be needed on earth shortly. Make sure you stay close so that you will know when that moment has arrived."_

" _Am I to know the name of the woman, father?"_

" _Her name is Kate. She is due to give birth soon but there will be problems. We must think of the child."_

*

Ten minutes later, Kate arrived at the hospital and made her way to reception. When she experienced another contraction, a nurse brought a wheelchair and speedily whisked her off to the maternity unit. She was left in the hands of a midwife who was introduced as Nurse Johnson. When Kate looked at her she inwardly cringed. Just my luck, she thought, to end up with an old battleaxe.

Nurse Johnson had deep set eyes which were as cold as ice. Her steel grey hair was severely scraped back into a bun at the nape of her neck and accentuated her finely chiselled features. She had a prominent nose which was red at the tip.

"How strong are your contractions?" she asked.

"Quite strong but I'm sure they'll get worse."

"Have you had a bath this morning?"

Kate nodded.

"Just lie down here then. Try and relax and breathe deeply at the start of each contraction. That way you'll rise above the pain. Doctor will see you very soon."

Kate concentrated on trying to breathe properly, just like she had been shown at the anti natal classes. After what seemed like eternity, the door opened and a female doctor entered.

"Hello, Kate," she said quietly. Her voice was deep and cultured. "I'm Doctor Bilvamangal, I've come to examine you.."

"I hope you don't mind me saying so, but your name's a bit of a mouthful, " replied Kate. "Is it okay if I just call you Doctor Bil?"

Doctor Bilvamangal, in her mid twenties, Indian and very beautiful, smiled and replied, "Of course."

Kate noticed that under her white hospital coat, she was wearing a brightly coloured sari.

"Are you the doctor who's going to deliver my baby?"

"Yes, Kate," she replied, "but there's something you need to know. A week ago your baby was in the correct position for birth, with its head to one side. Unfortunately, due to its constant kicking, it's now in what we call posterior position and facing forwards. We'll have to see how things go during the next hour or so. Your progress is being closely monitored."

"Does this mean that the birth won't be straightforward?" asked Kate, sensing that Doctor Bilvamangal was keeping something from her.

"It's possible but it's a little early to say at the moment. Try and relax, Kate.

She walked out of the room as Kate had another contraction.

"Try and relax, try and relax! That's what everyone keeps on saying to me," muttered Kate. "It's all right for them They're not stuck here like I am."

*

Some time later, she was suddenly conscious of the fact that she was being given an injection and assumed that it was to help with the pain which by now was becoming unbearable. Out of a misty haze she heard Doctor Bilvamangal's voice.

"We're taking you through to the delivery room now."

### Chapter 15

"As you feel a contraction coming on, breathe the gas and air," said Nurse Johnson, handing her the mask.

Kate took a deep breath and felt deliciously relaxed. She closed her eyes as her mind drifted back to Venice and the first evening she had spent with Carlo......beautiful, tall, dark, sensitive Carlo.

It had been a month before she was due to marry James and she should have been at home helping her parents with the wedding preparations. Instead she was boarding an excursion steamer, bound for the islands of Murano, Burano and Torcello.

Three weeks previously, her life-long friend, Jayne, had been killed in an horrendously tragic accident on the M1. The steering wheel had gone right through her. Jayne was to have been her chief bridesmaid and Kate, devastated, had wanted to call the wedding off. Her. Father, Bill, fearing that she was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, had arranged for her to have a week's break in Venice, a city she had always wanted to visit.

"We can't cancel the wedding now," he had said. "Everything's been arranged for weeks. It will do you good to get away and see new places and perhaps do some writing if you feel up to it. I'm sure James will understand. It's near the end of the holiday season so it shouldn't be too busy. The break will do you good."

Kate had been too depressed to argue. She needed to grieve alone, away from the family.

Carlo had been their guide. He had taken her hand and looked deeply into her eyes, perhaps sensing the sorrow there, as he helped her onto the excursion steamer. Kate was aware of a rush of electricity shooting up her arm and at that moment knew why fate had brought her to this city. She was experiencing something which she had always been cynical about. Love at first sight.

The trip had taken around four hours and Kate had been particularly enamoured with Burano. Exquisite Burano, with its gaily painted pastel coloured houses, looking like jewels set against the backdrop of the Venetian sun.

Later that day, Carlo surprised her by calling at her hotel. She had not resisted his invitation to spend the evening exploring parts of Venice which she had not already seen. They wined and dined and danced and after a trip in a gondola, Carlo took her back to the apartment which he had leased for the season.

She said nothing about her forthcoming marriage as they drank wine, while making love by candlelight, looking out of the window at the Venetian sky. Carlo had been so romantic, loving and tender. There was not one inch of her which he had not caressed with either his lips or fingertips and she had willingly surrendered herself to him........

Blasted out of her reverie, Kate felt another contraction coming and an indescribable urge to bear down.

"No, Kate, don't push. Breathe the gas and air," said Nurse Johnson.

"But I want to push," she cried. "Why won't you let me? I've been told not to push for ages. Why's it taking so long?"

"You're young and healthy and the baby's just fine but each time you push, although its head is in the birth canal, the rest of it gets wedged. We want to see if your contractions will be strong enough to turn it into the correct position," said Doctor Bilvamangal. Kate was conscious of the start of another contraction.

"Just another little prick," said a youthful, male voice.

"Yes, you certainly are!" said Kate, between clenched teeth. "Who the hell are you anyway? I don't want any blokes here except my husband. Where is he?"

"Stephen Price, midwife," was the reply. "Your husband's on his way back from Milan. We'll let you know the moment he arrives."

Kate put the mask over her face again as she felt the needle being pushed into a vein and breathed deeply.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and a voice say, "You _'_ re going to be all right, Kate."

She opened her eyes and blinked. Everything was hazy. Green and hazy. A strange figure was bending over her. A beautiful woman, dressed in a flowing, green robe with long tresses of titian hair, stood by her. She carried a bow and a quiver of arrows over her shoulder.

" _Who are you?" asked Kate._

" _Artemis, Goddess of Chastity."_

"Of course, now I recognise you. I _'_ ve seen pictures. You _'_ re the helper of women in childbirth and protector of the newly born. Women used to pray to you to ease their labour pains."

" _Yes, Kate. And you can do the same. I will protect your newly born son, for yes, it is a son that you are about to give birth to. Your time is very close. Take my hand."_

" _But, how do I know I can trust you? You don'_ t always protect. You have been known to kill children."

"True, I did once. But, I was obeying my mother Leto _'_ s orders. Your baby will be quite safe. Leto herself will be here soon. Now, take my hand."

Doctor Bilvamangal looked at the foetal heart monitor printout. The trace showed that Kate's baby was in great difficulty. There was a dip indicating the need for immediate action.

"Give her oxygen. The baby's becoming distressed," she said to her team. "We must deliver it immediately. The head's too far down for a caesarean. It's going to have to be mid-cavity forceps."

Everyone donned caps, gowns and masks. The anaesthetist arrived. Doctor Bilvamangal brandished a pair of steel, jaw-like forceps.

"What's wrong?" murmured Kate, too drowsy to really care what wasgoing on.

"Things have got complicated," the doctor replied. "We need to give you a general anaesthetic and deliver baby immediately."

Kate felt pressure on her chest. She opened her eyes and stared into an unknown face. A brown face. The face of a bird.

" _I am Leto, Kate," said the bird._

"Leto? Of course you _'_ re a quail. Now I remember. When Zeus slept with you, because he didn _'_ t want Hera, his wife to find out, he changed both you and himself into quails. You gave birth to Artemis on Quail Island, with as few birth pains as a mother quail suffers when she lays an egg."

" _That is correct, Kate. Now go to sleep."_

Kate closed her eyes and felt herself floating, floating. Soon she was flying with Leto , over mountains, forests and oceans, until they reached Quail Island. She settled herself down on a rock and while Leto cooed encouragement, gave birth to a single, white egg.

As Kate came round from the anaesthetic, she placed her hand on her stomach. It was flat. She was still lying on the delivery table. A nurse was chivvying round, tidying up.

"Is my baby all right?" she asked.

The nurse nodded. "He's perfect. A little stressed because of the ordeal he's been through but otherwise fine. You'll be able to see him soon. He's being washed and weighed."

Moments later, while Kate was trying to doze, Nurse Johnson brought the baby to her.

"This is the young man who caused all the trouble," she said.

Kate looked at her son for the first time and a lump filled her throat. He was the image of Carlo. He had the same black, curly hair. He opened his eyes and yawned.

"I'm going to call him Jacob," said Kate, "but, he'll be known as Jake."

"That's a lovely name," Nurse Johnson replied. "You both need to rest now. I'm taking Jacob back to the nursery."

She smiled and for the first time, Kate saw softness in her eyes.

*

"So you see, " said Kate, looking at Luciano, "you have something in common with my son . You're both half Italian. Apart from James, you're the only one who knows." She looked steadily at him. "How do you feel about me now?"

"Did you really think you saw Artemis and Leto? That gas and air must be wonderful stuff," he replied, grinning. "In answer to your question, why would my feelings about you change? You've been so honest, I love you even more. It must have taken a lot to tell me.," he replied as he finished his coffee. "Nobody's perfect. Everyone has a skeleton of some kind in the cupboard but what intrigues me is why you waited until Jake was eight before you told James."

"In retrospect, I suppose the illness which later brought me into hospital was probably well advanced. I kind of snapped. Just before he finally left and while he was away in some European city, Brussels, I think, there was a fire in the kitchen."

"And that was the reason for telling him?"

"No, of course not. It was because of his indifference to me when he found out what had happened. At that point I realised that any feelings of love which I might have had for him in the past, had finally turned into feelings of hatred."

"Were both of the children in the house when it happened?"

"Just Lucy. Fortunately Jake was at school. It was around noon. I remember craving egg and chips for my lunch, it was strange because I didn't normally eat egg and chips." She paused, reflectively as a dog barked outside.

"Why's that dog barking?" said Luciano.

She walked over to the window and drew back the curtains.

"It's chasing a cat," she replied, letting the curtain drop and returning to her seat.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes, making egg and chips. Anyway, I put the chip pan on the stove while I cut up the potatoes. As I was doing this I heard Lucy crying. It was obvious that she had just woken up and needed changing. It was late Spring and I'd left the back door open so that the dog could wander in and out."

"Go on."

" More coffee?"

He nodded and Kate refilled his cup as she continued.

"I took Lucy up to the back bedroom, where I kept all the baby stuff. I put her on the changing mat on the bed and looked out of the window, which overlooked the back garden. It was then that I saw black smoke coming out of the kitchen door."

"Thank goodness you'd left the door open."

"If I hadn't I dread to think what might have happened. As it was I quickly put Lucy into the playpen and rushed downstairs. When I reached the kitchen, I saw that the chip pan was on fire and that the back of my electric cooker, where all the dials were, had melted."

"Good grief."

"The flames had travelled up the wall and my lovely pine-cladded ceiling was also on fire. Foolishly, I picked up the pan by the handle and ran with it out into the garden. By now, Chrissie, my next door neighbour, realised what had happened and was dialling 999. I burned my hand very badly."

"You shouldn't have touched that pan."

"I know, one's always wise after the event but fear made me panic."

"You won't make the same mistake again."

"Too right. I no longer possess a chip pan."

"What did you do about a cooker?"

"I had to buy a new one before James returned and of course there was a dreadful mess. There was soot everywhere so it wasn't just the kitchen which needed redecorating. The hall, stairs and landing all had to be done as well."

"How did James react?"

"He marvelled at my stupidity and wasn't the slightest bit sympathetic. By this time he was heavily involved with some floosie abroad and knew I was on to him. He made me feel this big," Kate replied, putting her thumb and finger together. "The following week he flew to Paris and on his return said:

'No fires this time? I hope you'll take better care of my children from now on.' It was then that I realised that I hated him and it must have been a reflex reaction when I blurted out 'actually I've been meaning to tell you for ages. You're not Jake's father.'

I'm sure deep down he probably half suspected it. Jake doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to either of us. He looks just like Carlo."

"So, when did he leave?"

"About a month later. I told him everything and he still agreed to give me money for both of the children. . He was quite decent about that. We were both relieved when he finally left. As you can imagine, things by then had become dreadfully tense. He had this other woman and I wanted him out of my life."

Luciano finished his coffee and sat for a moment deep in thought.

"When can I meet Jake and Lucy?"

We're having a get together here on Bonfire Night. Some of the neighbours will be coming. I'll just introduce you as a friend to start with." She put their cups back on the tray. "Now, it's getting late and I'm dead on my feet. Don't look at me like that, Luciano. I'm not sleeping with you. As I said before, you can use Jake's room. I'll show you where it is."

### Chapter 16

It was such a beautiful, autumn day, that Kate decided to abandon the car and walk with Lucy in the buggy to pick Jake up from school.

In a couple of days it would be November 5th. All the children in the Avenue, together with Jake , had, during the past week been working really hard collecting together a great pile of garden rubbish, which had so far, not been sabotaged by a rival gang. A bonfire of impressive proportions would, in the field behind Kate's house, create a cheerful blaze.

"We've got to write a story at school," Jake informed his mother, as they trudged through the park on their way home. "Mr Postlethwaite's giving a prize for the best one. I can't think of anything to write about."

"What about Bonfire Night?" replied Kate.

"Oh, Mum, that's boring. Lots of others will be writing about that. No, it has to be something unusual and different if I'm going to win."

A strong wind was blowing and leaves were falling thick and fast, displaying a veritable feast of autumnal colour. By the time they reached home, all three had cheeks like russet apples but Kate would not have been in such high spirits had she known what was about to happen.

"Be a good lad, Jake and play with Lucy while I get tea ready," she said as they took off their coats and shoes.

Kate glanced at the clock while peeling potatoes. It was almost half past four. Jake and Lucy were by this time engrossed in Children's T.V and watching Rugrats when there was a forceful hammering on the front door which startled her. Wondering who could possibly be calling at this hour and why on earth they had not used the bell, Kate walked along the hallway calling out, "All right, I'm coming!"

She opened the door and was roughly pushed aside while an identity card was thrust into her face.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she yelled at the red faced man who had forced his way in.

"Mrs Hazelton, after repeated demands for payment, your electricity bill remains unpaid. I've been authorised to cut off your supply. I'm sorry, I'm just doing my job. I don't like this any more than you do."

"No you don't," Kate shouted, struggling with him as he opened the cupboard under the stairs where the meter was. "I've two small children. I can't manage without electricity. There must be some mistake, I'm a single parent now my husband's left but he's supposed to have paid the bill."

Ignoring her plea, the man turned the supply off and left. It was almost pitch black but there was sufficient light coming in through the window from the street lighting outside, for Kate to be able to make out where everything was. Jake came into the kitchen, holding Lucy's hand.

"Who was that at the front door, Mum," he asked. "And why have the lights gone out? We were watching telly."

"Jake, I need you to be very grown up about this," Kate replied. "We've had our electricity supply cut off. Thank heavens we've got gas fires in both of the living rooms. At least we can be warm. I don't know what's going to happen but for Lucy's sake we've got to make a game out of everything. Let me make a phone call first and then I'll decide what's the best thing to do."

She immediately phoned her solicitor.

"It's Mrs Hazelton, from Chinston Avenue," she began. "I urgently need to speak to Mr Canton."

"He's with a client, Mrs Hazelton. Will you hold?"

"No. It's absolutely imperative that I speak to him immediately. It's an emergency!" she yelled. "Tell him I've had my electricity supply cut off."

A few seconds later, Mr Canton was on the other end of the line.

"My secretary's told me what's happened, Mrs Hazelton," he said. I'm afraid there's absolutely nothing I can do now. They'll have all gone home you see. I'll be on to them first thing in the morning." He paused. "This shouldn't have happened. I'm very sorry."

Kate put the receiver down.

"Right, Jake," she said. "It's actions stations."

She knew the quicker she planned, the less problems there would be. She did what she always did when stressed. By the light of a torch, she made a list.

1) Camping cooker and Gaz.

2) Halloween pumpkin.

3) Candles and night lights.

4) Torch batteries.

5) Matches.

Lucy, by now fed up with semi-darkness, wandered over to where Kate was sitting.

"Lucy watch Rugrats!" she said emphatically.

I'm sorry, darling. You can't," Kate replied. "The man came and turned the electricity off."

"Nasty lecci man," she replied, stamping her foot. "Lucy watch Rugrats!"

"Oh, Lucy, please don't have a tantrum. Not now," said Kate. "Come here." She took her small daughter onto her lap and pressing her close said, "I'm sorry you can't watch Rugrats but you just won't believe how much fun we're going to have this evening. It'll be all right, Lucy, I promise you," she said, crossing her fingers.

Kate's brain was working overtime as she tried to plan what to do. She motioned to Jake whom she could see by the light of the torch. He was standing in the doorway.

"There's another torch in that drawer, Jake," she said. "Will you be a love and nip down to the garden shed? The camping cooker's in there. Can you manage to bring it in by yourself? It isn't heavy. We can put it on the kitchen table."

Jake opened the back door and went down to the shed while his mother thought about what to do next.

"I'll get the Halloween pumpkin and the Gaz container," she called as she followed him out into the garden. "Lucy, I want you to stay here please."

Lucy was having none of that and followed her mother. The items were brought into the kitchen, together with jam jars which they had used at the Halloween party. Jake and Kate had painted them different colours. There were red, blue and green ones. Black card still remained wrapped around each, from which windows had been cut. When night lights were lit inside, each gave the appearance of a small lantern. There were twelve of them, four of each colour.

Kate then reached for her handbag and bundled the children into the car. After driving speedily to the local convenience store, she stocked up with the items on her list. Back home, the night lights were placed inside the pumpkin and make-shift lanterns. Kate carefully lit each one. The kitchen took on a rosy glow.

"Jake, use this torch and go up to your bedroom and find some books and games which you think Lucy would enjoy," she said.

"Okay, Mum, he replied. He had recently become very responsible, according to his teacher and had been put in charge of the reading corner at school. He picked out three books and two games and after returning downstairs, read to Lucy while Kate rooted through her cupboards for something to cook on the camping stove.

She reckoned that there would be just enough in the Gaz container to take them through till morning and made a start with the quickest meal she could think of as by now, all three of them had rumbling tummies. She found a large tin of baked beans containing small sausages and tipped the contents into a pan which she heated up while preparing some mashed potato from a packet of instant, which she always had in, in case of emergencies.

In about ten minutes the meal was on the table and the children devoured it ravenously, with some bread and butter. Kate then warmed up a tin of rice pudding which she served with large dollops of strawberry jam.

Once the meal was over the children were warm and happier so Kate was able to make herself a much deserved cup of tea. She then bundled the dishes into the sink muttering, "I'll do those in the morning."

Jake and Lucy were still sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a book. Kate joined them and handing them each a cookie said:

"In the old days, before a very clever man discovered electricity, people had to use candles when it was dark to do everything. Just try and imagine a world without television and electric light. It would have been just like it is for us right now."

"What did people do when there was no television or radio?" asked Jake. "Did they just go to bed early?"

"No, Jake. They did what we're going to do this evening. They spent time with their family and if they were on their own they read."

Then the fun began. First they played 'I-Spy' and Jake remarked, "Doesn't everything look different by candle-light?"

The next game was Snakes and Ladders which Lucy enjoyed. For a very small child just two months away from her third birthday, she recognised numbers and with a little help could count very well. The game went on for some time and Jake finally won.

When they got to Picture Lotto, Lucy had no difficulty identifying the animals. It was their names which sometimes became a problem. Elephant became 'efelunk' and giraffe 'raf' and cheetah for some reason known only to Lucy, was 'teetow'.

"Let's have a sing-song," said Kate.

"We can't," said Jake. "We haven't got a piano."

'Old Macdonald had a farm' was what Kate chose. It proved to be a good choice because it gave the children the opportunity of making really inventive animal noises. There was a fair amount of giggling all round then Kate noticed that Lucy was just about to nod off.

"I think it's about time we went up the wooden hill, don't you?" she said. "We won't bother about a wash tonight. I'll just read you a story. What's it to be?"

"Flopsy Bunnies," Lucy replied, sleepily.

About ten minutes after the children had been put to bed, Kate was enjoying a cup of drinking chocolate when the phone rang. It was Luciano.

"Is everything all right?" he asked. "When I drove past earlier there were no lights on and it was only nine o'clock."

She told him what had happened.

*

The following morning, Kate woke up around the usual time. Using a torch, she crept quietly downstairs so as not to wake the children, lit some more night lights and made a start with setting the table for breakfast.

Later, after she had taken Jake to school, the doorbell rang. It was someone from the electricity board..

"Your solicitor phoned through after you'd been cut off yesterday," he said. "There was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. We're arranging for you to have a card operated meter fitted later on today. With it you'll be able to pay off the debt at the same time as you pay for the electricity you use."

He turned on the supply. The lights came on in the kitchen as well as the living room.

*

A week later, Jake told Kate that he had won the story competition at school.

"Well done, love," she said. "What did you decide to write about in the end?"

"You'll see when you come on Parents' Evening," was all he would say.

Kate was used to going to Jake's school without James so this time was no different. Jake's newly appointed head teacher, Mr Postlethwaite, from all accounts recently widowed, was extraordinarily nice to her. He looked deeply into her eyes as he spoke. He was a good looking man and Kate's heart skipped a beat.

"I'd like you to come with me," he said. "I expect Jake's told you he won the story competition. He'll be receiving a £20 book token and we're all very proud of him. You'll no doubt be wondering what he wrote about."

Kate followed him along the corridor to where the winning entries were displayed. As she looked up at Jake's childish script, a lump filled her throat. Suddenly all the pain and unhappiness of the past few months melted away.

THE LECCI-MAN

Two weeks ago, we had the best time ever.

The man from the electricity board came and turned off the electricity. Lucy, my baby sister called him The Lecci-Man.

My Mum was great. She didn't cry and was very brave. She cooked our tea by candle-light on the camping cooker we used when we went camping last summer. Then we played games, told stories and sang together, just like they did in the 'Old Days' before electricity.

We don't have a Dad anymore but we've the best Mum in the world. I hope the Lecci-Man comes again one day.

### Chapter 17

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your bonfire celebrations, Kate but I was with Mark," said Anna as they sat down at the kitchen table.

Kate poured out two cups of coffee from the pot and handed one to Anna.

"You're seeing a lot of this new guy, aren't you? Good for you but you missed a good night," Kate replied, handing her the box of biscuits.

It was the Saturday following Bonfire Night and as always on a Saturday morning, Kate was spending time with her friend. Jake and Lucy were both with a neighbour who also had small children so Kate was making the most of having the freedom to catch up with Anna's news.

Following her dreadful experience with Luke, the bar manager at Applejacks, Anna had become very wary of men and realising that a bar was no place in which she was going to find her soul mate, had enrolled in an evening course in Conversational French. There she had met Mark, a professional photographer whom she had been seeing regularly since the first session.

"He's nice and uncomplicated," she told Kate. "We're planning a holiday in the South of France next summer."

"That sounds great," Kate replied. "Luciano came to the bonfire party you know and met the children for the first time."

"And?"

"They seemed to like him very much, which naturally pleased me as I've always believed that children are a good judge of character. Jake thought he was 'cool' but that was probably because he brought an enormous box of fireworks with him." She smiled. "Why is it that men always revert to being little boys when it comes to fireworks? I couldn't make out who was more excited, Jake or Luciano."

"I guess it's a 'bloke' thing we women wouldn't understand. Did Lucy enjoy it too?"

"Yes, she was very excited and was very taken with Luciano. She spent most of the time sitting on his shoulders. It's obvious that he's good with children. He's a complete natural."

"Remind me again, what's the situation with his wife?"

"They're separated and in the process of divorcing. She didn't want children apparently so in that way they weren't suited. I wonder why people don't discuss these things _before_ they marry," Kate replied.

"You'll have to introduce me to him. Maybe the four of us could go out for a meal sometime."

"That would be nice. I'll see what he says. Believe it or not, although he's a psychiatrist, he's dreadfully shy when it comes to meeting people socially. I get the impression his wife's given his ego a pretty severe knocking."

"In that case you'll probably be good for him. Nobody in their right mind could call you shy." She thought for a moment. "Kate, I've never really asked you before but how serious are things between you?"

"I like him a lot and he says he loves me but I come with an awful lot of baggage, don't I? The children will always come first no matter what happens." Kate paused. "Anna, I've got a problem and I'm not sure how to cope with it. Perhaps you could give me some advice."

"Go on then. A problem shared is a problem halved."

"It's Jake's head teacher, John Postlethwaite. You remember, I told you about him? Well, the problem is that he's asked me if I'll go out to dinner with him on Friday and then go to the theatre later on in the evening. He's bought the tickets already, apparently, so I'm in a bit of a quandary."

"What about Luciano? Don't you usually spend Friday evenings with him?"

"Yes, that's just it. I don't know what to do."

"Well, it's not as if you're engaged or living with him. If I were you, I'd give it a go. You've nothing to lose and you're best to keep you options open at the moment. How nice to be asked to the theatre. I haven't been for ages."

*

While Kate was spending time with her friend, Holly, her sister, as always on a Saturday morning, was staying in bed as long as possible. She glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes to ten.

She could hear raised voices downstairs and wondered why her father had not yet gone to work. Ever since she had seen him in the local coffee shop with the new woman he seemed to be spending time with, Holly had been embarrassed about being in his presence. She wondered if her mother knew about this latest infatuation. Even if she did, would she be bothered about it? It had been obvious for as long as Holly could remember that there was no love lost between her parents. Why did her mother put up with such treatment? Why was she so weak?

The shouting intensified. Holly heard the sound of smashing crockery, followed by a dull thud. She then heard her mother cry out.

"Please don't, Bill. I'm sorry your blue shirt isn't ironed."

"You stupid, lazy bitch," he shouted. "Call yourself a wife? You're worse than useless."

There was another crash as a chair was kicked over.

"Get up off the floor and wash those dishes!" he yelled.

Holly cringed and covered her ears, sliding down under the duvet. She heard the front door slam and knowing that it was safe to go downstairs, went down into the kitchen where she found Emma sitting on a chair, clutching her left arm. It was obvious she was in considerable pain for she was holding her injured arm in an unnatural position and her head was tilted towards it.

"What's he done to you this time?" she asked.

"It's nothing."

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"I fell awkwardly. I think there's something wrong with my shoulder."

Holly felt her mother's arm. Emma screamed with pain and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"I'm phoning for an ambulance, Mum. You need to get checked out. It looks to me as though you've broken a collar bone."

*

Holly's diagnosis was correct. At the hospital, Emma was strapped up in the way people are when a collar bone has been fractured and told to take things easy.

Once home, Emma asked Holly to help her make up the bed in the spare bedroom. It was a lovely little room, overlooking the back garden. Now at least Emma would no longer have to endure Bill's snoring and as he was seeing more and more of his latest conquest, Helen Grayson, that side of things was thankfully taken care of too. She breathed a sigh of relief as Holly chivvied round, hanging a picture here and placing a bowl of fruit there.

"You know, Mum, I can help you make this room really nice. If you'd like to choose the colour, I'll put fresh emulsion on the walls for you next weekend. Perhaps you'd like to buy some new curtains too."

"That's kind of you. Powder blue would be nice and restful. I think I'll have a lock put on the door while your father's at work too. Then I can really have some peace and quiet. I'll have somewhere to come where I can read and sew without being disturbed."

"Don't you think you should consider leaving him after what's happened?"

"I've often thought about doing so but now is not the right time."

"Will the time ever be right?"

*

Bill had his own way of coping with the hostility which he received from both his wife and his daughter. The following weekend, a couple of gardeners whom he employed, turned up to help him make and erect the ultimate male accessory. A large garden room was built at the bottom of the garden, replacing the broken-down structure which they had inherited from the previous owners. Bill felt it would double as an office or retreat, whenever he wanted to get away from the family. He could talk to Helen at any time he wanted using his mobile phone and if someone was coming out to him and he wanted to be alone, he would see them walking down the path and could pick up the phone and pretend to be talking to a client.

Where Bill was concerned, what you saw was most definitely not what you got. Successful in business and outwardly charming to everyone, including his wife, he gave the impression of being the perfect husband. In reality he was a man who was seriously sick in mind. A bitter and violent man who craved marital respectability and everything that went with it, together with the excitement of continual affairs.

Emma had ended up with a broken collar bone because she had questioned him about the amount of time he was spending sorting out Helen Grayson's garden. He had detested being rumbled. However, what Bill was unaware of was that Holly had seen both he and Helen frequently, together in deep conversation, heads touching, in the local coffee shop. But, being an astute young woman, Holly had decided to keep this information to herself. After all, there was a time and place for everything and now most certainly was not the right time to let her father know that she was aware of what was going on.

### Chapter 18

It was Emma's fiftieth birthday and she started the day by making a decision. She would finally take hold of the reins of her life and stop being a victim. She reckoned that women on the whole were good at making the best of things and that it must be something to do with self-preservation. However, if her life was to change it would have to happen gradually. There would not be one great leap but a series of small steps.

After a birthday soak in the bath, using the aromatherapy lavender bath essence which Kate had sent her, she draped a large towel around herself, pushed her feet into her slippers and plodded through to her sanctuary. She stood in front of the cheval mirror and let the towel drop to the floor.

"Not bad for fifty," she said softly to herself. "Not nubile but I still look pretty good after three children." From now on if she could, she would conceal her age. After all, men rarely acted theirs.

Her body was still firm and well moulded. Her breasts had not sagged. All her life Emma had taken care of herself and it showed. She had always been careful not to eat too much, had given up smoking around twenty years previously and each evening enjoyed just one glass of red wine while relaxing either in front of the television or while reading a novel. She was a woman who believed in moderation in all things. It helped to control her life. Anything else she considered to be a form of weakness.

She went swimming when she could, barring the occasions when her body was bruised as a result of being used as a punch bag for Bill's frustrations.

Getting older sucks, she decided. There were more and more things you were never going to be able to do. People were right when they said you should live each day as if it were your last.

She dressed and went downstairs. Bill had made himself toast and coffee and was sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper propped up in front of the jar of marmalade. He looked up as she entered and grunted. No words were exchanged. Thirty three years in a loveless marriage was too long, thought Emma. If I don't do something soon, I'll probably end up killing him. How different her life might have been if England had not won the World Cup.

*

On the afternoon of August 31st 1966, England became football champions of the world by defeating West Germany 4-2 at Wembley. It was at a time when the sexual age was dawning and hemlines rose to questionable limits with the mini-skirt.

Later that evening, up in her bedroom, sixteen year old Emma had another reason to be excited. Unbeknown to her parents, she was going on her first proper date with a boy called Bill Ferguson. Bill was Head Boy at the neighbouring boys Grammar School and Emma had met him at the local youth club the previous week.

She looked at her reflection in the dressing table mirror and at Carol, the friend with whom she was supposed to be spending the evening. Carol had helped her style her hair into a fashionable 'beehive'.

"It's the biggest it's ever been, Carol," she said and giggled. "I hope Bill will be impressed. Now, all I've got to do is get changed."

She slipped on a pale blue, shift dress and instead of wearing her usual cherry red, kinky boots, pushed her feet into strappy, dancing sandals. Then, opening her dressing table drawer, she looked thoughtfully at her three mohair stoles. She chose the dark blue one and after draping it round her shoulders, picked up her clutch bag and smiled at her friend.

"What would I do without you? " she said. "I look okay, don't I?"

"You look stunning. Bill won't be able to take his eyes off you."

They went downstairs to the sitting room where Emma's parents were watching television. Her father was already celebrating England's win with a jar of ale.

"Right, we're off," said Emma. "I should be home around midnight but don't wait up for me."

Once round the corner, they parted company.

"Have a good time," said Carol. "And, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That'll give me plenty of scope," she giggled as she hurried off to the bus stop. "I'll phone you tomorrow and let you know how things went."

The bus for the town centre arrived a couple of minutes early and she almost missed it. She had arranged to meet Bill outside Boots the Chemist at around seven o'clock and was relieved to find him waiting there as the bus pulled in on the opposite side of the road. He gave her a wave.

"I've borrowed Dad's car," he said as he kissed her. "It's parked just round the corner. You look lovely. I love the hair."

Emma giggled when she saw the E-type Jaguar.

"I hope you're not going to drive too fast," she said as he opened the door for her.

"I thought we'd go to Brighton," he said. "It won't take long in this."

*

"We'll look for somewhere to eat first," said Bill as he parked the car. "I'm sure we'll find something not too expensive. What time did you tell your folks you'd be back?"

"I'm supposed to be at dance," she replied. "I promised I'd be home by midnight Mum and Dad have no idea I'm out on a date. Dad would have kittens if he knew," she continued thinking about her father's Victorian values.

"That should give us plenty of time."

They walked until they found a small, cosy restaurant where the food seemed reasonably priced.

"This place looks nice," said Bill, opening the door for her. They looked around and saw that there were a couple of free tables. The waiter approached and looked admiringly at Emma, who went a delicate shade of pink.

"A table for two, please," said Bill.

The waiter ushered them over to the far end of the restaurant and as they took their seats, gave each of them a menu. Bill, however, was more interested in the wine list.

"A bottle of your house wine, please," he said. "We're celebrating. Well, I am. Did you see the match this afternoon?"

"I sure did. You're celebrating? I'm celebrating. They did us so proud, everybody's celebrating."

He went away to let them peruse the menus. After a few minutes he returned to take their order and opened the wine. He had brought two glasses to the table and Emma raised her eyebrows as she looked at Bill.

"You do realise I'm under age, don't you?" she said.

"The waiter obviously doesn't think so. The way you're done up tonight, you look at least twenty."

Emma glowed with pleasure.

Do you really think so? Well, okay then. I'll just have half a glass to see what it's like." She looked at him. "I hope you're not going to drink too much, Bill. Remember you've got to drive your father's car back."

"I'll just have a couple of glasses. That should be all right. Don't worry, I'll get you safely home."

The way Bill conducted himself made Emma feel so proud to be with him. He was so mature, which was probably the reason why he had been elected as Head Boy. Emma knew that he was due to start a college course in horticulture in the autumn. She looked at him admiringly and to her alarm found that she felt quite light headed after just half a glass of wine.

"This wine's strong," she said. "I feel quite tiddly."

"In that case I'll order us both coffee," he replied. "That'll make you feel better." He finished his chocolate gateau. "That was absolutely delicious. How was your apple pie?"

"Lovely. The entire meal was delicious. I haven't enjoyed myself so much for ages."

He looked very pleased. They finished their coffee and after paying the bill, left the restaurant and wandered down to the sea front where they could stroll along the promenade. By now the light was fading and lights began to flicker on all over the town.

"I've only ever seen Brighton during the day time," said Emma. "Everything looks so much nicer. The lights are lovely. Just look at the Palace Pier. Let's walk along to it."

"Take your shoes off and we can walk along the beach."

"I can't. It's a shingle beach. I'd like to see you try."

"Okay then, you'll have to keep them on," he said, looking down with amusement at her strappy sandals.

"I'm supposed to be at a dance with my friend," she said.

The tide was out as they walked along the shingle. They soon reached the pier structure where Bill removed his jacket and laid it on the ground, motioning for her to sit down.

"That's very gallant of you, Sir," she said.

They lay there, looking at the darkening sky.

"This is so romantic, isn't it?" said Emma, smiling at him.

"Yes, it is," he replied as hormones surged through him. He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Emma, still feeling a little light headed, tried to resist him but the kisses became more and more urgent.

"You're so beautiful, Emma," he murmured. "Please let me love you properly."

"I'm frightened, Bill. I've never done this before."

"There's absolutely nothing to worry about," he whispered. "I'll be very gentle."

And so it was that on the evening of the day when England became football champions of the World, Emma and Bill's son Benjamin, was conceived on the beach near Brighton Palace Pier, while Emma looked up at the ever darkening sky.

*

Bill drove carefully back, stopping off in a lay by, a few hundred yards away from Emma's house so that she could replenish her make up and try to sort out the 'beehive' which looked a little the worse for wear.

She looked in the car mirror and giggled.

"What do I look like?" she said. "As if I've been drawn through a hedge backwards. It's obvious I've been with someone."

Bill turned on the car radio. They were playing Eleanor Rigby. Emma sang along.

"It's a very catchy tune," she said. "One of the best that the Beatles have produced, don't you reckon?"

Bill nodded agreement.

"Here, you'd better suck a mint," he said. "We don't want your folks knowing that you've been drinking."

He dropped her off a short distance from her house at ten minutes to midnight. As she put her key in the door she was not surprised to see that in spite of the late hour, both her mother and father were still up, apparently waiting for her to return. She was an only child and she knew they worried about her.

"Did you have a good time?" asked her mother.

Emma nodded. "Lovely, thank you but dancing's so tiring. I think I'll go straight to bed. See you in the morning," she replied.

*

Emma heard Bill leave for work and as she washed the dishes she thought about that fateful evening. Bill had worn no protection and a few weeks later she knew for certain that she was pregnant. Not knowing what to do, she ended up confiding in Carol.

"Are you sure?" was Carol's response. "I mean you're not just late are you?"

"No, I'm positive and I don't know what to do. Can you imagine how my Dad will react when he finds out?"

Emma told her mother first, who, once she had got over the initial shock was quite supportive. Telling her father was a different matter altogether. Having extremely Victorian values, he hit the roof.

"Well, it's a fine mess you've got yourself into, girl. You've brought shame on the family," he said. "Who's the father? He's got to take responsibility for what's happened."

When Emma told him that it was Bill and that she had lied about where she had been on that day in August, he stormed out, slamming the door and drove speedily round to the Ferguson's house.

*

Later on, Bill told Emma that the two men had nearly come to blows. Ginnie, Bill's sister, home from teachers' training college, who was sitting in the living room, made a hasty retreat to her bedroom.

Mr Ferguson gave Bill a good dressing down.

"You've blown it, lad," he said. "Can't go to college now. You'll have to get a job immediately and save to provide a home for your wife and child."

"But, Dad, I want to take up horticulture, not get any old job," replied Bill miserably.

"Tough! You should've thought about that before you took advantage of that young girl."

"Excuse me," said Emma's father. "That young girl as you put it, happens to be my daughter and her name's Emma." He looked at Ron Ferguson. "We'll have to make arrangements for them to marry as soon as is decently possible, before she begins to show."He turned to Bill. "Now, lad. You must love Emma for things to have gone as far as they have. You've no objection to marrying her, have you?"

Bill was about to mumble quietly, 'No', when his father cut in:

"He's got no option as far as I can see. He's going to have to do the decent thing."

*

Emma let the water drain out of the sink and wiped her hands on the towel, thinking about how much things had changed. Young girls nowadays were rarely forced into marriage because they were pregnant. Her father and Mr Ferguson should never have forced the issue. Bill had resented her from the word go because she had thwarted his plans of going to college. They did not love each other and never ever really had. The only time when things had been normal between them was after Ben had died. Tragedy had brought them together and the only way they could deal with it was to cling to each other. Kate had been born at a time when they had been reasonably close. Emma sighed deeply.

The phone rang. It was Kate.

"Hello, Mum. Happy Birthday," she said. "Did you like my presents?"

"Kate, how lovely of you to ring. I was just thinking about you and wondering how you all are and yes, I loved the gifts and cards. Thank you very much. How are things?"

"We're all fine. Now, the reason I'm phoning is not just because it's your birthday. It won't be long before it's Christmas and I'm already making plans." She paused. "Holly rang and told me how things are with you. I'm so sorry, Mum. He's an insufferable bully, even though he's my father and you deserve better. I want you and Holly to come and spend Christmas with us. The children would love it. Dad can make his own arrangements and from all accounts probably will. So, what do you say?"

"Oh, Kate, that would be lovely. It'll be something to look forward to. A break away is just what I need and it will give us a chance to get better acquainted with Luciano. Take care of yourself, Kate and we'll see you soon. Give my love to Jake and Lucy," said Emma as she put the telephone receiver down.

### Chapter 19

On the morning of the first Saturday in December, Anna asked Kate how her evening with John Postlethwaite had gone.

"The meal was nice and the play which we saw was thought provoking but I won't be seeing him again," Kate answered. "After a short time it became obvious that all he was looking for was a substitute mother for his children. Halfway through the meal, I almost burst out laughing when I thought about the irony of the situation. I had paid a baby sitter to look after Jake and Lucy and all John did was talk about how wonderful his wife had been and how much he missed her." She grinned. "And to think that I could have been spending the evening with Luciano instead. It's your fault for making me go."

"I only suggested that it was good to keep your options open. You're a free agent, aren't you? You didn't have to go. Never mind, perhaps you can make it up to Luciano by cooking him a really special meal."

"You know, that's a good idea. Perhaps next weekend, if he can make it. That'll give me time to think about what I'm going to cook for him. After that I want to start preparing for Christmas. I want it to be really special for the children this year now that Lucy's old enough to enjoy it." She thought for a moment before continuing. "You can't imagine how little I looked forward to the festive season when I was a child."

Anna raised her eyebrows and looked puzzled.

"Oh, I got presents like everyone else but the atmosphere in the house was dreadful. Nobody spoke much and there wasn't even a Christmas tree. Can you imagine that? No Christmas tree? I used to go round to friends' houses and feel so envious when I saw theirs. Something else was weird too. I wondered why my parents never exchanged gifts. It wasn't until I was around ten years old that I found out why Christmas was such a bleak time in our house."

"Are you going to explain all this or leave me totally baffled?"

"Of course I'm going to tell you, I'm just leading up to it. I'll tell you what happened. One day, having nothing better to do and being the naturally inquisitive person I've always been, I was rummaging through a drawer. I found this piece of paper, pushed inside a photo album. I opened it and discovered a birth certificate. The date was 1967 and the name on the certificate was Benjamin Richard Ferguson. I had found out accidentally that my parents had had another child. Just as I was trying to get over the shock, my mother appeared. She asked me where I had found the birth certificate and seemed very upset. She told me that my father would be very annoyed if he knew because they never talked about what had happened to my brother."

"What did happen?"

"Mum told me that Ben would have been three years older than me had he lived.

She and my father had gone for a walk in the snow. They were very young and weren't away long. A neighbour who was spending the day with them was looking after Ben." Kate paused and drained her coffee cup. "And, this is the awful bit. When they got back they found that Ben had stopped breathing. They couldn't revive him at the hospital . Apparently after the inquest, it was diagnosed as what would now be classed as cot death. Ben died on Christmas Day and was only seven months old."

Anna was lost for words so Kate continued.

"Because he hadn't been christened, he had to be buried in unconsecrated ground. Mum told me that she's never forgiven herself for that."

"How dreadful. So that's why they don't celebrate Christmas."

"Yes. They don't give presents to each other because it would be a reminder of the fact that they had lost the most precious gift of all. He was a really beautiful baby and apparently used to get very excited when they put him near the Christmas tree lights, which explains why there was no tree when I was a child."

"It would have been too painful a reminder for them."

Kate waited until the first morning of the final week on the lead up to Christmas before decorating the tree for by then Jake had finished school and could be involved. Even Lucy was allowed to put baubles on the lower branches but when the postman pushed mail through the letter box , she ran excitedly to the front door to pick everything up.

Putting the bills aside, Kate opened the Christmas cards. There were three from old school friends and a couple from girls she had trained with. The postmark on the final one was blurred and she did not recognise the handwriting which was in Italic. She tore open the envelope. Inside was an ethnic-style card from Cassie with an accompanying letter. Cassie had written at length and because Kate knew it would take some time to read the letter, she left the decorating of the tree and sat down. Cassie had written:

Dear Kate,

I think of you often and how I miss our little chats. I posted a parcel to you a few days ago- just a little something which I thought you might like and a couple of toys for the children. Let me know if it arrives safely. Perhaps you could give me a ring if you still have my number.

I'd love to meet up with you, Kate. Would it be possible for me to come and stay for a few days? Don't worry, I'm completely responsible now and can't wait for my baby to arrive. And, you'll be pleased to know that I no longer smoke. My baby's due sometime near the end of March.

I thought you might be interested to know that my circumstances have changed. I'm now a woman of property. My maiden aunt, Mary, died a few weeks ago. She'd always had a soft spot for me and I often stayed with her as a child. Anyway, she's left me the country cottage she'd lived in for over thirty years, together with a substantial sum of money. She'd always been well off, never having married and had children. I went and had a look at the cottage last weekend. It needs to be modernised but that's something I can do over time. The main thing is that it's habitable so I've decided I'll move in as soon as the baby's born and give my mother Rose, who has also been left a small inheritance, some breathing space. She's got the moving bug too and has her eye on a horse-drawn, gipsy caravan, which she'll use during the summer. Did I tell you that she has Romany ancestors?

I'm still performing the odd smudging ceremony. It provides me with sufficient cash for buying the baby's layette and essential equipment. I never realised babies needed so much. When I look at the tiny cardigans my mother's knitted, I get very excited.

I still see John occasionally. He's very mixed up but then aren't most men? He still says he loves me and has given me money to help with buying things. Heaven knows what his wife would say if she knew but no doubt it salves his conscience.

Write and tell me all your news. I'd love to hear from you. I hope you and your family have a lovely Christmas. Maybe I can come and see you all in the New Year?

Much love,

Cassie.

Kate smiled as she finished reading the letter. Jake and Lucy between them had almost completed decorating the tree. Eyes bright, faces smiling, they were the picture of happiness. Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without children, she thought. That's what it's all about.

### Chapter 20

Luciano was on call on Christmas Day and unable to join Kate and her family but on Boxing Day he turned up bearing gifts for everyone.

Emma of course had met him previously when Kate was in hospital and had immediately taken to him. For Holly, it was a first meeting and when Luciano arrived and she was introduced to him, it was obvious that she fancied him for she went pink and became over excited, talking incessantly and giggling a lot. Later, in the kitchen when she had a moment, she cornered Kate.

"Kate, you lucky old thing. He's gorgeous and I'm green with envy. If you ever get fed up with him, let me know."

"He's much too old for you," Kate laughed. "Anyway, you've got a boy friend, haven't you? Aunt Ginnie wrote about him in her Christmas card and seemed very taken with him. Jason, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, he's nice but he's just a friend really. It's nothing heavy and anyway he'll be off to Spain soon."

"Could you please carry this tray of food through for me and I'll bring the other one. I've got an announcement to make to everyone," Kate replied.

They both walked through to the sitting room where Luciano was in contortions playing 'Twister'. Jake and Lucy were giggling uncontrollably.

The two sisters arranged the savoury bites on the table together with the rest of the buffet. It was a tradition that Kate always prepared an ongoing buffet on Boxing Day which everyone could return to again and again.

"You've done us proud, Kate," said Luciano. "What an amazing spread."

"Just take a plate everyone and help yourselves to whatever you want. Drinks are in the kitchen," she replied.

When they had all piled a mixture of sweet and savoury items onto their plates, they sat down, Jake and Lucy lounged on oversized cushions on the floor.

"Now that you're all eating," said Kate, "I'd like to make an announcement."

They all looked expectantly at her, wondering what was coming next.

"I've made a decision," she continued. "As soon as the Christmas and New Year festivities are over I'm going to put this house on the market and buy something smaller."

"Where will you move to? Have you seen another place that you like?" asked Emma.

"Yes. There's a cottage-type property in Lilac Avenue that I've had my eye on for some time," Kate replied . "As far as I can make out it's empty so there would be no problem in being involved in a chain of properties. We don't really need a four bed roomed house," she added. "A smaller property with three would be fine, providing it's got lots of character. It would be cheaper and easier to run. Things have got a bit tight financially since James left."

"That seems a sensible idea," said Luciano, "and it would be a fresh start for you wouldn't it?"

"My thoughts exactly."

*

On Twelfth Night, Kate took down the decorations, removed clutter and gave the house a thorough clean. She then visited a reputable estate agent in the High Street where she asked the manager to come and have a look round and give her a valuation. The price they finally agreed on, was according the estate agent , a fair one.

"The house is well maintained and the garden attractively laid out for ease of maintenance," he said. "But, there's no point in having an asking price well over the odds, particularly if you've seen another property which you're interested in and which is empty. What we're looking for is a quick sale. There shouldn't be a problem,"

Four days later, Kate gave her first viewing. The following day three more couples also gave the house a once over. By the weekend, after two families had traipsed wordlessly through, Kate rang the estate agent.

"Can you give me any feedback on the viewings?" she asked.

"We always follow up viewings," the girl replied. "They all said it was a nice house but not quite what they were looking for," she continued. "I suppose people just know when a property is right for them. They get this gut feeling."

Kate put the receiver down and sat for a minute, thinking. Then she dialled Cassie's mother's number, hoping that someone was in.

It was Rosa Trelawney who answered the phone. Kate explained that she needed to speak to Cassie.

"I'll just get her for you. She's in the garden," said Rosa. A short time later, Cassie was on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Cassie, it's Kate, " she said. "How are you? Remember what you wrote in your letter about wanting to visit? I'm wondering if you'd like to come and stay for a week. You can sleep in the spare bedroom."

"I'd love that, Kate. It's always a bit flat after the festive season."

"Yes, and it'll give you a chance to get used to being around children."

"You'll have to give me directions for getting to you."

Kate paused, thinking carefully about what to say next.

"I don't just want to see you, Cassie. I need your help. I've put my house up for sale. Six lots of people have viewed it since it was put on the market and not one of them has shown the slightest bit of interest."

"Okay, I'll drive over on Thursday and presumably you'll want me to bring all my gear."

"Please. I'll phone again on Wednesday. You'll need to know the quickest way to get here. I'll write everything down and read out directions so you can make a note of everything."

*

When Cassie arrived, Kate hardly recognised her. Gone was the jet black wig and heavy eye makeup. Her naturally blonde hair was brushed into a feathery, upswept style, making her look considerably younger. Being tall and slender, she carried her baby with pride. Kate noticed approvingly that she was wearing low heeled shoes.

"You look amazing," she said. "Come inside. Let me take your suitcase."

Lucy came toddling along the hallway. Kate scooped her up and said "Lucy, I'd like you to meet Aunt Cassie."

"Hello, you're pretty. Would you like to come and see my teddies? " Lucy replied. "We're having a tea party."

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry, Cass and you've only just arrived," replied Kate.

"No sweat, she's so sweet. Doesn't she look like you?"

"Do you think so? You're the first person to say that. Go through and I'll make us some coffee," said Kate, pointing to the living room.

When Kate brought coffee and biscuits through on a tray a short time later, she found Cassie looking at a framed snapshot of herself and Luciano.

"Are my eyes deceiving me or is this really Doctor McKinnon?" asked her friend.

"No, your eyes are fine. Luciano and I have been seeing each other weekly since October," Kate replied, offering her some biscuits. Cassie took a Hobnob. "We bumped into each other one evening quite accidentally when we were both having an evening out at the same bar."

"You dark horse. You didn't mention this when I phoned."

"It's early days. I guess I just didn't want to tempt fate."

"And, how serious is it? Are you, you know..."

"Having sex?" Kate replied. "No, we're not. That's what I love most about him. There's never been any pressure. He knows I need to be quite sure before properly entering into a new relationship because of the children. "

"Aren't you afraid you'll lose him? He is gorgeous. Lots of women must have their eyes on him."

"Well, if I do, it'll prove he doesn't really love me but is only after one thing."

Cassie raised an eyebrow and sipped her coffee.

"After lunch, a neighbour has agreed to look after Lucy," said Kate. "I thought it would be best if we were on our own while you smudge the house."

*

"Is what you're about to do something like Feng Shui?" asked Kate later that afternoon as Cassie took her equipment out of the box.

"No. Feng Shui involves moving furniture and changing your décor," Cassie replied. "Smudging doesn't. Instead it's to do with colour, light, incense and sound. I'd like to have a general look around the house before I do anything."

"You might as well start with the bedrooms," Kate suggested. "Let me show you the way."

"You see," Cassie continued, as they walked upstairs, "Feng Shui can't reach the negative energy in bricks and mortar. It's blocked energy that creates a bad atmosphere in a house."

Cassie systematically progressed wordlessly through all four bedrooms before making her way downstairs to the ground floor rooms. Kate followed her, wondering what on earth was going on in Cassie's mind and when she would break the silence. They ended up back in the kitchen and Cassie said:

"There are good vibes in most of the house, except in the master bedroom and the spare bedroom at the front. Things don't seem right there. I get a feeling of unhappiness."

"That figures. The marital bedroom and the room James slept in before he left us."

"The first thing I'm going to do is make an altar in the centre of the house, where everybody tends to accumulate," Cassie explained. "That would appear to be the kitchen. I'll set it up here."

"Okay, but I'm interested in what's going on so can you explain why you're doing particular things?" said Kate. "I think I'll follow you round and watch everything. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all."

Cassie took the items from the box and placed them together on the circular, pine kitchen table.

"These items are symbols of the four elements," she explained. "The rose quartz crystal promotes love and peace. It symbolises the earth."

She placed a candle in a coloured glass, picked up the box of matches and lit the candle.

"This represents fire," she said. "The feather symbolises air and the fourth element, water, is in the glass."

"Isn't the quartz crystal beautiful," said Kate.

"Yes, it is. What I'm going to do now is stir up any blocked energy in the rooms. It's blocked energy that can create a bad atmosphere, if you remember. Ringing this hand bell, particularly in any recesses, will stir up energy. Once it's been stirred I'll be able to purify it with these lighted bundles of dried sage or 'smudgesticks'."

Cassie burned some incense in a pot and started with the downstairs rooms. Kate found the smell of the burning sage very pleasant but was not really convinced by all the 'mumbo jumbo'. She suppressed a smile as she followed Cassie wordlessly upstairs.

In the bedrooms where Cassie had experienced bad vibes, she spent a long time ringing the bell and then wafted smoke from the sage smudgesticks into every corner to purify the stagnant energy.

"That should do it," she said. "We'll go back down to the kitchen now, where we began."

They sat down at the table and Cassie put everything except the quartz crystal back into the box.

"I want you to have this," she said, handing Kate the pink crystal. "Hopefully it will help maintain harmony once I've gone, by allowing the energy to keep flowing. Keep it in your bedroom."

"Thanks, Cass," Kate replied. "What we both need now is a nice cup of tea."

As Kate went upstairs to put the crystal on her bedside table, she could smell the aroma from the sage which seemed to have pervaded the entire house and was conscious of a deeply calming atmosphere.

"What would I do without you?" said Kate, as she sipped her tea. "Let's hope I get a buyer soon."

"Changing the subject, did you like my Christmas present?" Cassie asked.

"Yes, it was lovely. I'll make good use of it when I move to the new house."

Cassie had sent Kate a book about wildflower gardening and Kate had decided that in her new garden she would devote a small plot to wildflowers so that she could have a little bit of the countryside outside her back door.

"More tea?" she asked. "There's still some in the pot." The doorbell rang.

When she opened the front door, Kate found a young couple waiting in the porch. The man, who was tall and thin, had closely cropped, curly hair which was prematurely grey and a weather-beaten face, indicating that he probably spent much time in the open air. The woman was smaller, paler and had brown, straight hair which reached almost to her shoulders. They both smiled awkwardly and then the woman, who appeared friendly but seemed agitated, spoke.

"Hello, we're Mr and Mrs Shaw," she said. "I hope you'll forgive us for turning up like this but we're only up in the area for today and while we were passing in the car we noticed that your house is on the market." She paused before continuing. "I know we're supposed to approach you through the estate agent but we're pressed for time and have already seen a number of houses..."

"What my wife is trying to say is, would you think it an awful cheek if we asked if we could have a quick look round your property without an appointment?"

"Of course you can have a look round," Kate replied, hardly believing her luck. "Have you travelled far?"

"We live in Buxton in Derbyshire," he replied. "I'm due to start a new job in Manchester next month. We've sold our house and will be moving out next weekend. In the meantime we've sorted out some temporary accommodation but naturally we're most anxious to fine a suitable property as it's not easy living in a rented place with three children under the age of ten."

"Let me show you the garden and ground floor rooms first," said Kate. "Gardens always look a bit bleak at this time of the year don't they but since I've been here I've planted lots of bulbs. It's been so mild recently that the snowdrops and crocuses are emerging already."

Mr and Mrs Shaw seemed pleased with the size and layout of the garden so Kate took them back into the house.

"Take your time," she said. "Have a good look round and if you need to ask any questions, I'll be down here making coffee."

"What's that lovely smell?" asked Mrs Shaw as they made their way upstairs.

"We've been burning some incense," Kate replied. She looked at Cassie and winked.

"This is the moment of truth," she whispered.

"Yeah," Cassie replied, looking vaguely uneasy. They could hear the couple mumbling to each other upstairs and then, after what seemed like hours but was no more than a few minutes, Mr and Mrs Shaw walked slowly down the staircase.

"It's just what we're looking for," said Mr Shaw.

"We like all of the house," continued his wife, "particularly the master bedroom.

There's a wonderful feeling of serenity there."

"You get a good view of the garden from that window," replied Kate. "I often sit on the window seat and have a quiet moment watching the birds visiting the bird table. Come through and join me and my friend for coffee." She ushered them through to the living room.

"Have you anywhere to go when you sell?" enquired Mr Shaw, anxiously. "We want to avoid being in a long chain if possible."

"I've seen a property which is empty. If you really are as interested in my house as you seem to be, I'll be in a position to be able to make an offer for it immediately."

"As soon as we've drunk this delicious coffee which you've been kind enough to make for us, we'll locate your estate agent and make an offer," said Mr Shaw, smiling at Kate. "I had a feeling we might be lucky in finding the right property today," he said to his wife. "I was right."

After thanking Kate again, they left, and as they were driving away, Mrs Shaw called from the car:

"See you soon! We'll need to take some measurements for carpets and curtains."

Kate waved and then looked at Cassie.

"It looks like I owe you one," she said. "Cassie, you're the best."

*

Cassie returned home after the weekend and during the month which followed, Kate was caught up in frenzied activity for Mr and Mrs Shaw's offer was only a fraction below the asking price and had been accepted. She began to pack away into boxes household items and anything else which they would not need on the lead up to removal day. Luciano came round to help whenever he was free and suggested colour coding each box so that on the day the removal men would know where each box was to go.

"It makes sense," he said as he packed up glassware. "With colour coding at least items to go upstairs will not remain with everything else in the living room. It'll give you a head start."

Kate was quite pleased with the way she had handled everything else. Having obtained three quotes for the actual removal costs she was surprised by how much they differed. Naturally she had opted for the most reasonably priced quote and seeing as the new house was only about five minutes walk away, it was not exorbitant.

"You'll need to contact all the services once you have a completion date," said Luciano, a couple of days later. "You know, things like gas, electricity and water and the council, revising your council tax payments, which, considering that your new house is smaller, may be lower."

"It's all in hand," Kate replied. "I've made a list and I'll also contact the post office to arrange for redirection of mail for the first six months."

"Don't forget your landline telephone. Seeing as you're moving locally , you can probably take your existing number with you."

She smiled at him. The look in his eyes and his general concern was sufficient for her to see just how much he loved her. She knew that she would soon have to make a decision about where their relationship, which so far had remained strictly platonic, was going. But, if things did not work out it would be the children who would suffer most. So far Luciano had been patient but Kate realised that sooner or later she would have to make a decision one way or the other.

### Chapter 21

Moving day finally arrived and Kate was woken just before six by Jake and Lucy when they burst into her room and bounced all over her bed.

After they were washed and dressed, she made breakfast and had them ready to leave by eight. Bundling them into the car, she drove to the house of the friend who had offered to look after them for the day. By the time she picked them up later that afternoon, all of the furniture would at last be in place.

The removal van arrived promptly at nine as planned. Fifteen minutes later, Luciano also turned up, hoping fervently that he would not be called into work. While he supervised everything as various items of furniture were loaded into the van, Kate went out into the garden to put food on the bird table for the last time. She felt a momentary pang of sadness as her friend, the blackbird, watched her from the roof of the garden shed.

She put out the usual mixture of food, including sultanas, which she knew he would come down for as soon as she started to walk back to the house. He eyed her with his head on one side before flying down for his breakfast. Then came the sparrows, who speedily pecked at birdseed before being ousted by the spivs of the bird world, the starlings.

Kate trundled back up the path and into the kitchen, where she walked over to the worktop next to the cooker and wrote a note for Mr and Mrs Shaw.

I am leaving you some bird food. As I have been feeding our feathered friends every day for around two years now, they have come to rely on a daily supply. I hope you continue with this so I'm leaving instructions on how to get started. You will get continuous pleasure from watching them as they come and go from the bird table. Hope you will be very happy here.

Kate Hazelton.

There was no bird table at the new house . She would have to get one as soon as they were settled. By half past eleven, everything was loaded into the van. Kate had remembered to keep to hand the kettle, some mugs, spoons, coffee, tea, sugar and milk so both she and Luciano together with the removal men could enjoy a drink before someone came to read the gas and electric meters.

Thirty minutes or so later, after saying goodbye to the house, Kate closed the front door, leaving behind that part of her life for ever and once the van had left, both she and Luciano drove away in their respective cars. Luciano had agreed to drop the keys into the estate agent for the Shaws and as she already had the keys for the new house, Kate followed the removal van straight round.

A week later, Kate put the book about wildflower gardening which Cassie had given her for Christmas, to good use and consulted the list of suppliers of plants at the back of it. She phoned one of them and the girl who answered, promised to send out their most recent catalogue.

Two days later it arrived and over a cup of coffee, she selected a mixture of tall, medium and low growing plants and for speed, telephoned her order to the supplier.

*

The plants arrived during the last week of March. They were carefully packed and on the box was a notice which said 'If circumstances permit, plant out immediately.'

The plot which she had dug over just outside the back door and under the kitchen window, was not large. She had cut turf away in the form of a crescent, roughly measuring one by three meters. With Lucy's help, she planted out a mixture of Meadow Cranesbill, Greater Knapweed, Ox-Eye Daisy, Small Scabious, Harebell, Selfheal, Yarrow, Birds Foot Trefoil, Primrose, Fox and Cubs and Water Avens.

Having given the plants a good soaking, Kate made her way back into the kitchen for a well deserved cup of tea, pleased with the thought that when summer came she would have a little bit of the countryside in her back garden.

As she filled the kettle, the phone rang. It was Cassie's mother, Rosa Trelawney, informing Kate that her daughter had given birth to a son during the night. It had not been an easy birth but both mother and baby were fine. Cassie sent her love. She had decided to name her new little son Zac.

Immediately after receiving this news, Kate fastened Lucy in the car seat and drove to the nearest florist. She ordered a bouquet of mixed spring flowers and made arrangements for them to be sent by Interflora to the maternity unit. She also mailed a card of congratulations saying 'It's a Boy!' and enclosed a short letter saying she would be sending a gift for the baby, once she had chosen something she liked.

Since the move, Kate's evenings had been spent decorating and when Luciano was free, he would come and give her a hand. She had decided that she could live with the décor in her own bedroom and in the living rooms for the next six months or so. It was the children's rooms that needed redecorating first so she had set about beautifying Lucy's small room first. When asked which colour she would like for the walls, Lucy had chosen a dusky pink, being the typically feminine little girl that she was. Kate promised that she would have it all done by Easter, after which she would make a start on Jake's room.

Luciano was giving the final touch to Lucy's decorative border when Kate asked him what he would be doing over the Easter break.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "It's more than likely that I'll have to work but if not I thought I might travel to Venice and visit my mother. Ever since Dad's funeral, I've continually promised that I would spend a few days with her."

"Looks like it'll be just me and the kids on my own then," replied Kate.

However, a few days before the Easter weekend, Luciano phoned Emma and told her that he was on a secret mission.

"Is there any way both you and Holly could arrange to spend Easter at Kate's?" he asked.

"I don't know, I'll have to ask Kate first," she replied.

"No, I don't want Kate knowing that you're going to be there until the very last minute," he explained.

"What are you up to, Luciano? It all sounds very 'cloak and dagger'."

"I'm making arrangements to take Kate away for a short break and wondered if you could both look after the children while we're away. It's to be a surprise. You must promise me you won't mention a word about this," he added. "She thinks I'm going to Venice to see my mother."

"Where are you taking her?"

"That's a surprise too. You won't know that until Kate phones you herself to tell you where we are."

*

Emma's gift shop, 'Temptations', was off a quaint cobbled street in the older part of the town. The premises had formerly been tearooms, was 'Olde Worlde' and had a large, engaging bow window, behind which Emma displayed all manner of original gifts and home accessories, many of which were imported or British and hand made.

The right hand side of the shop was still reserved for serving morning coffee and afternoon teas, which was fine during the winter months, when locals who had previously frequented the tearooms, could still enjoy a drink and a chat in warm, pleasant surroundings. In this special area of the shop, Emma allowed a local artist to exhibit his work. This had proved to be of great interest to locals and visitors alike.

There was a steady trickle of trade during the winter months but due to the very nature of the business, trade was seasonal. Emma's best turnover was at Christmas and during the run up to Valentine's Day, Mothering Sunday and Easter.

During the summer months, trade was generally so busy with holidaymakers visiting the small town, that she found it necessary to put further tables and chairs with sunshades, outside on the pavement , to cater for the holiday rush.

She employed Lizzie, a capable, friendly girl, popular with customers, who managed the shop in her absence. Ruth, a young, single parent, with two children of school age, worked part time in the kitchen.

On the morning of the Wednesday before the Easter weekend, trade was brisk. Emma had planned to depart around noon, leaving Lizzie and Ruth to cope with the flurry of last minute customers on the Maunday Thursday. Having briefed Lizzie about cashing up and locking the shop, Emma drove home to pick up Holly.

"Can we take Bathsheba with us?" asked Holly. "If we leave her with Dad, I doubt if he'll be bothered to exercise her."

"I don't suppose Kate will mind if she comes too but cover the back seat with a rug first," Emma replied as she put their cases in the boot.

### Chapter 22

As Kate and the children were clearing away after lunch, the phone rang. It was Luciano.

"I want you to drop everything you're doing and go and pack a suitcase," he said. "I'm taking you away for the weekend, Kate."

"I can't do that. What about the children? Anyway, I thought you were visiting your mother."

"She isn't expecting me. I used that as an excuse so that you wouldn't suspect I was planning something. Oh, and you needn't worry about Jake and Lucy. It's all in hand. Your mother and sister will be arriving later on today to look after them."

"Luciano! I didn't realise you could be so devious. Where are we going and what do I need to pack? Posh or casual?"

"Casual mainly but take something dressy for the evenings. The hotel we're going to is pretty exclusive."

"Where is it?"

"You'll find out later."

"Presumably you've booked in advance. We'd better have separate rooms or there'll be trouble."

"There's no need to worry. You'll have your own room. Now, go and pack."

*

Emma and Holly arrived as Kate was getting the children ready for bed. After a cup of tea, Emma and Holly took over and read both Jake and Lucy bedtime stories, after which they were soon soundly asleep.

"You'll need to sort out what you're taking with you and possibly do some ironing," said Emma, later on as they finished their meal. "I'm so glad Luciano's taking you away. It'll give you a chance to talk properly and have quality time together without the children."

"I'm nervous about being on my own with him, Mum. I'll be forced into making a decision about moving the relationship on to a higher plane."

"You do love him, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do. He's an absolute sweetie. He's my rock. In fact, I don't know what I'd do without his support."

"Well then?"

"If it were me, I wouldn't hesitate," piped up Holly, faintly blushing. "I think he's gorgeous."

"I've got to be sure he's right, not just for me but for Jake and Lucy too. If things don't work out and everything goes pear-shaped between us, it'll be the children who'll suffer."

"I don't know what you're worrying about," remarked Emma. "It's obvious that he adores them and they're equally mad about him."

As Kate put her suitcase into the boot of Luciano's car the following morning, she asked him where they were going.

"We're heading for London," was all he would say.

Naturally assuming that they would be spending the weekend there and staying in a really swish hotel, Kate stopped asking questions and snuggled down in her seat to listen to the soothing music flowing from the C.D. player.

However, when Luciano parked the car near Waterloo Station, she became really curious and asked, "Why have we parked here?"

"So we can complete the rest of our journey," he replied. "You didn't think we were spending the weekend in London, did you? I've spent ages planning this trip. We're making for the Eurostar terminal. I'm taking you to Paris, Kate."

She looked down at the First Class ticket which he had placed in her hand. He smiled.

"With First Class you're served a three course meal with wine. I hope you're hungry."

"I am now."

"And, by travelling First class, we also get a free River Seine lunch cruise in Paris. We'll take advantage of that tomorrow. Now, let's find the terminal. According to this brochure, checking in takes about twenty minutes.

They soon found the State of the Art terminal with its airport style concourse, including a café, bar and shops.

"Can you give me five minutes?" said Kate. "I must go and phone Mum. She won't believe where we're going."

About three hours later, the eighteen coach Eurostar train pulled into Paris Gard du Nord.

"Here we are," said Luciano, grasping their luggage. "Now, all we need to do is find a taxi to take us to the hotel."

"Do we have to go far?" she asked as they made for the exit.

"The hotel's in the Latin Quarter, Saint Germain des Pres. Look there's a cab. If we're quick, we'll attract the driver's attention."

They climbed into the taxi, Luciano explaining in his very best French, where they wanted to be taken. In order to reach the hotel, they crossed the River Seine and travelled south to the Left Bank and the Latin Quarter.

"It's Seventeenth Century ," said Luciano, as the taxi swept up to the hotel entrance "and apparently belonged to one of Louis X1V's architects."

As she gazed at the building, Kate asked "How did you find out about this?"

"I've put a lot of thought and research into this visit which you'll see as the weekend progresses. We've both been to Paris before so probably like me you've seen all the usual sights. I just want to make this break something which you'll remember for a long time."

"I love you," she whispered.

"Do you? Then maybe I made a mistake when I booked two single rooms as you requested."

"No, it wasn't a mistake. It's perfect. I need some space right at this moment. Let's see how the weekend progresses, shall we?"

"Why don't you go and park yourself on one of those chairs while I go to the check in desk and confirm that our rooms are ready."

Kate watched him as he walked to the reception area and noticed him handing an envelope to the woman behind the desk. The two of them seemed to be having a lengthy conversation and Kate wondered if they were speaking in French.

She sat down on a rattan chair and gazed out through glass walls at the floodlit garden and surrounding area. An elegant, thin-faced woman was seated directly opposite, reading some kind of brochure. She looked up, removed her spectacles and surveyed Kate with interest. Her features were finely chiselled and she had good bone structure. She was not beautiful but had a face which was interesting. Kate did a quick mental calculation and reckoned that she was perhaps about ten years younger than her mother. The woman wore a beautifully cut, silver-grey suit, complemented by a high necked, ivory blouse. After a few seconds, she spoke.

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation as you arrived," she said. "Most of the guests here are French apart from one couple from America and two from Germany. It's nice to meet someone English."

"Pleased to meet you," Kate replied as Luciano arrived with their room keys. "I'm Kate and this is Luciano. We're only here for the Easter weekend."

"Esther Franklin," she replied when Luciano smiled at her. "I seem to have mislaid my husband. He's around somewhere but he can't be in the bar because it closed at eight thirty."

Luciano glanced at his watch.

"Is it that time already? " he remarked. "I could just do with a drink too." He looked at Kate. "Let's get unpacked and see what we can find in the Saint Germain area. Is this where they serve breakfast?" he asked as Esther returned to her brochure.

"Yes, from nine thirty to eleven thirty," she replied. "Maybe I'll see you both in the morning. Enjoy your evening. I'm supposed to be going to the opera."

*

"The café I'm looking for should be somewhere around here," said Luciano, looking down at Kate's feet. "I'm glad you're wearing reasonably sensible shoes. I want us to get a taste of the real Paris and to do that it's best to walk sometimes. Not only is Paris a city for lovers, it's also a city for strollers. There's nothing nicer than rambling through unexpected alleyways."

"I know we're both familiar with the usual city sights but I really would like to visit Montmartre again," said Kate. "We could have our portraits drawn."

"Okay, if that's what you want. We'll do that on our last day," he replied, taking her arm. "Ah, this is what I've been looking for. Café de Flore. I think you'll find it interesting here."

"What is this place?"

"It's a very old literary café. Quaint, isn't it? It dates back to 1865 and gets its name from a statue which once sat outside. A statue to the goddess of flowers which as you can see is no longer here. It's open until 2 a.m so let's go in and see how things go."

They entered and sat down. It was very crowded. Kate took in the Art Deco décor.

""Luciano, have you seen the prices?" she asked. "They're overwhelmingly expensive."

"I know but it's not every evening that you can watch Saint Germain Parisians in such a setting. Picasso used to come here, think of that. And, more importantly as far as you are concerned, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir wrote here on a regular basis, apparently because it was heated.

The price of a café crème was twenty five francs and Luciano had to keep on reminding himself that this café in Paris was far more than a place for drinking coffee.

"Try and make the coffee last as long as possible," he said ruefully, looking at the crowd of mixed locals.

"I've never seen anything like this before," said Kate, taking in the whole of the atmosphere. "Look at that fellow over in the corner. It looks like Steven Spielberg. If it isn't him it's his double. Is it possible he could be here?"

Luciano looked across at the group of people talking animatedly to a bearded gentleman.

"Quite possible. I've a feeling I recognise that fellow over there too. Isn't he on television? Look at them all. Some are just resting like us and generally taking everything in. That bloke over there is reading a novel and a few people give the impression that they're trying to write one."

"The tradition continues," said Kate. "I feel I should have brought a notebook and pen myself."

In spite of the overpriced coffee, the good thing about Café de Flore was that you could sit there as long as you liked. Luciano was not pressured to re-order when they had both finally finished nursing their drinks and absorbing the atmosphere. He looked at his watch.

"Let's just have one glass of wine as a nightcap," he said . "Then we'll make tracks. You look tired, Kate."

"I am. So much has happened today. I'm still trying to get my head round everything."

*

An hour later, they arrived back at the hotel.

"Set your alarm for nine," said Luciano. "I'll meet you for breakfast at nine thirty. Oh, by the way, my room's four doors along from yours at the other end of the corridor, in case you need me during the night."

"I won't be needing you. I can barely keep my eyes open. But, thank you. I've had a lovely evening," she replied, kissing him enthusiastically. "I'll see you in the morning."

### Chapter 23

Luciano was not in the dining area when Kate went down for breakfast. She was about to retrace her steps and go upstairs again to knock on his door, when she noticed a woman waving and beckoning her over.

Esther Franklin was seated at a table immediately overlooking the grounds. With her was a bronze-faced man whom Kate assumed was her husband. She walked over to their table.

"Good morning, Kate. Come and sit with us," said Esther. "Luciano should be back soon. He's had to go out. He didn't explain why but said he wouldn't be long and could we give you the message."

"I wonder why he didn't leave me a note," Kate replied, drawing up a chair and sitting down.

"He'll probably explain everything when he gets back. There's no point waiting around for him though. Have some breakfast. The coffee's very good here, the croissants are freshly baked and the strawberry jam's delicious. This is my husband Bruce, by the way. I should have introduced the two of you earlier."

Kate looked at Bruce, nodded and smiled. He was a man of tall, lean build, with receding, black hair, tinged with silver grey. His jaw line was sharp and smooth and there was strength in the lines of his mouth. His bronze, high-cheeked face accentuated the deep blue of his eyes. Altogether a very masculine man, thought Kate, who no doubt enjoyed much success with the opposite sex. But was his tan genuine? Kate reckoned that considering Esther's pallor, it was probably the result of frequent sun bed sessions.

He took Kate's hand and looking deeply into her eyes murmured:

"Enchante."

"Oh, I didn't realise you were French," she replied, deeply amused.

"He's not," said Esther, "he just fancies himself with the ladies."

Bruce ignored her comment and winked at Kate, who studied her coffee with some deliberation, uncertain what to say next. However, the situation was saved by Luciano, who moments later, came striding towards them beaming.

"Sorry I'm late, Kate," he said, "I had something important to attend to."

"Oh yes, and what was that?"

"All will be revealed," he answered mysteriously as he sat down for breakfast. "You'll find out later today."

*

Around noon, they came across a wine bar.

"Let's stop for a quick drink," said Luciano. "Having consumed so much coffee, it'll be nice to have a glass of wine."

The bartenders were young, long haired and mostly English which made Kate say, "I wonder how Luke from Applejacks would get on in a place like this."

"Luke?" he replied. "Do you mean the one you told me about, the poseur who thought he was Tom Cruise?"

"That's the one."

The bar itself was like an informal club for Brits, Yanks and Aussies. The waitresses were dressed in Laura Ashley garb and apparently there were some three hundred wines to choose from. As they were only having a brief stop while they planned their day, Luciano asked:

"Would a glass of Chardonnay be all right for Madame?"

Kate nodded. He took a map and guidebook from his pocket, studying them for a few minutes, while she took in the atmosphere of her surroundings.

"There's nothing nicer than rambling around the city on foot," he said "and although urban transport is dull by comparison, it's swift when you're in a hurry to reach a destination. So, don't be surprised if we take the odd cab or hop on the METRO."

Kate smiled as she sipped her wine.

"I've ceased being surprised , Luciano McKinnon. When I'm with you, life's a continual surprise."

"Oh yeah? Well you aint seen nothin' yet," he grinned. "Come on, let's take the Metro to the Arc de Triomphe. From there we can enjoy a long walk down the Champs

Elysees and when we get tired, we can stop at a side street café and people watch."

*

For lunch they just had a snack and then Luciano hailed a cab.

"Where are we going?" asked Kate.

"Well, you've got your camera with you and the weather's fine and sunny so I thought we'd visit Montmartre this afternoon, rather than leave it until tomorrow when it might be raining."

*

As they arrived, Kate was once again , like she had been on her previous visit, struck by the complete contrast with the bustle and activity of central Paris.

"You can almost imagine you're in a small town in Normandy here, instead of a 'village' just outside the city centre," she said.

A stroll through cobbled squares and back streets brought them finally to the Place du Tertre, full of artists anxious and willing to draw their portraits.

"Let's get this done later," said Luciano. A stone's throw away was the pure white, Sacre Coeur basilica, gleaming in the sunlight. "How tired are you?"

"I'm okay. After the lunch break and drive in the taxi I seem to have developed a second wind."

"Fancy climbing to the top then?"

She nodded.

The three hundred and thirty steps were exhausting but after the climb, Kate captured some stunning panoramic views of the city on camera. However, she was unprepared for what happened next. Luciano took her hand and as she turned to him she was surprised by the expression on his face.

"What is it, Luciano. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. The truth is I've brought you up here because I want to ask you something," he replied, slightly out of breath. "When I went out this morning before breakfast, I was on a very special mission."

"Why do you always have to be so mysterious?"

"Because I love you so very much. I just want everything to be perfect. You deserve so much to be happy, Kate."

"And I am happy, Luciano. We're having such a wonderful time. What was this special mission before breakfast?"

He reached into his pocket and drew out the small, velvet-covered box he had been carrying all day.

"I had to go to the city centre to get this," he replied, opening the box. Inside was a stunning diamond and sapphire ring. "Kate, I've loved you from the moment I set eyes on you that morning after they brought you into the hospital. Please say you'll do me the honour of becoming my wife as soon as my divorce is finalised. Please say you'll marry me."

Kate gazed at the ring which was beautiful. She looked up into his face, stood on tiptoe and gently kissed him.

"Luciano, this is so sudden. I don't know what to say. If it were just the two of us there would be no problem. There are Jake and Lucy to consider. You must give me some time to think. It's such a big step. Can I give you my answer over dinner tonight?"

"You know how to torture a guy, don't you?"

"I will give you my answer tonight, I promise I will. Now, don't let's waste any more of the afternoon. Before we return to the square, I want to go inside the basilica and look once again at that beautiful ceiling."

*

Later, as they were making their descent, Luciano said:

"I think we'll take advantage of the free River Seine lunch cruise tomorrow. It won't be so bad if it rains as we'll be under cover."

Kate, who was deep in thought, nodded. When they reached the square they were greeted by a lively atmosphere. An accordionist was thumping out Edith Pilaf numbers with gusto. Over a couple of glasses of wine, they listened to amongst others, "I Love Paris", "Milord" and "La Vie En Rose".

They spent the rest of the afternoon admiring artists' work, buying prints and other souvenirs and having their portraits drawn, then made their way back to the city centre via the nearest Metro station.

### Chapter 24

Jake and Lucy had just been bathed and Holly was now reading them a bedtime story. This gave Emma a chance to put finishing touches to the Easter trail which she had prepared for them. While she was doing this, the phone rang. It was Kate.

"Hi, Mum. How is everything? Are the children behaving themselves?"

"They're fine. How's the break going? Are you having a good time?"

"Everything's been perfect so far. Luciano has certainly put a lot of thought into the weekend. He's full of surprises. We visited Montmartre again today, you know how much I love it there."

"Did you get your portraits drawn?"

"Yes, we did, but you'll never guess what's happened. Outside the Sacre Coeur basilica, Luciano asked me to marry him. He produced this beautiful ring and almost got down on one knee."

"Kate, that's wonderful, you know how much I like him. I hope you said 'yes'."

"I'm giving him my answer during dinner tonight. I don't know why I'm dithering. He's such a fantastic guy."

"Say 'yes', Kate. You'll regret it if you don't. Now, go and make yourself look like a million dollars and make the most of the rest of your time in Paris."

"I will, Mum. See you soon. Give my love to Jake and Lucy."

Emma smiled as she put down the phone.

*

When Kate met Luciano down in the hotel bar later that evening, he looked extremely tense. She smiled at him.

"You look lovely," he said, looking down at her spiky-heeled shoes. "But, one thing's certain. You'll have difficulty walking in those." He grinned. "There's a nice little bistro not far from here. I've booked a table. Now you're here, I'll ask reception to arrange about a taxi."

The waiter took Kate's jacket and Luciano ordered a bottle of wine before studying the menu. After they had each decided what they would have, he filled both of their glasses.

"Dutch courage," he said ruefully, taking a sip." How long are you going to keep me in suspenders, Kate?"

Kate had decided that she would be careful not to drink too much. She needed a clear head for what she was going to say. She looked at him.

"It's not fair to keep you waiting any longer,"she said. "I've thought things over and weighed up everything. I even phoned my mother and had a chat with her, though God only knows why." She paused. "I will marry you but there will have to be certain conditions." She took a sip of her wine."You might not be so keen to tie the knot when you hear what they are."

She looked at him. He was so incredibly handsome and at this moment looked almost child-like for an unruly lock of hair had fallen across his forehead. He was smiling and looked far less tense now. Slipping his hand into his inside pocket, he once again took out the small, velvet covered box, opened it and took out the ring. Kate handed him her left hand and he slipped the ring onto her wedding finger. It was a loose fit.

"I can't tell you how happy you've made me," he said. "We'll have to see about getting this adjusted. I believe there are special things you can buy." Kate nodded. "Regarding your conditions. I love you so much, I'll agree to anything."

"The ring's beautiful and so are you," she replied. "Now, let's eat our meal and I'll explain everything over dessert."

They talked about how they wanted to spend their remaining time in Paris.

"I know just how interested you are in gardening," said Luciano. "How would you like to visit Monet's garden in Giverny?"

"I'd love to. We'd be able to see at first hand the colours, plant combinations and inspiration for all his wonderful paintings which I also adore."

She looked at him as the waiter took their main course plates away.

"It really is a brilliant idea," she continued. "Weather permitting, I should get some interesting photos as well."

The waiter brought the dessert, which Luciano had especially ordered.

"What's this?" asked Kate, looking at it suspiciously.

"It's called Mont Blanc. Taste it."

Kate took a small spoonful and slid it into her mouth.

"Umm, it's luscious. But, what am I eating?"

"A creamy puree of sweetened chestnuts."

"I'll have so much to tell everyone when I get home," she said, eating another spoonful. Now, it's time I told you about my conditions."

Luciano was unprepared for what followed and when they had finished their meal, telephoned for a taxi to take them back to the hotel.

*

At reception, Kate was surprised when he asked for a special key.

"Where's my key?" she asked, "and why have you changed rooms?"

"Don't worry about that. I want to show you something."

"What have you cooked up now?"

She followed him silently to a room she had not been aware of before. He said, quietly:

"I think this will amaze you."

The door opened into a spacious guest room. There was a bottle of champagne on ice and four impressive flower arrangements had been placed in various parts of the room. Luciano closed the door behind them.

"This room is always in great demand and is one of the reasons why visitors choose to come to this hotel. Welcome to the Fresco Room, Kate."

She looked up at the artistically painted stucco ceiling.

"It's beautiful," she said. "But, Luciano, I don't understand why we're here."

"Please don't be angry with me. I only booked two separate rooms for the first night. We're both in here for the remainder of our stay. Can you see now why I was so anxious for you to accept my proposal?"

He looked, with some amusement, at her bewildered expression.

"Why don't you have a look round while I open the champagne?"

It became obvious to Kate that the room was meant especially for intimate couples as there was nothing but a simple screen, as opposed to a door, separating the bathroom from the bedroom.

"What do you think of it?" he asked, handing her a glass of bubbly. "If you're really freaked out by the situation, I'll sleep in one of the chairs. I just think the room is so romantic."

"No, I don't want you to do that," she replied, kicking off her shoes. "That's better, I'm glad to get out of these," she added. "My feet have been killing me all evening. The price we women pay for fashion."

He looked relieved.

"Why don't you take advantage of the excellent facilities in the bathroom," he said. "Finish your drink and I'll pour you another which you can enjoy while you're having a soak in the bath. There should be some of your favourite bubble-bath in there somewhere."

When he heard the bath water running, he sat down to recall the conversation which he had had with Kate at the bistro. He had been expecting a set of ground rules and initially had felt somewhat put out by what she was proposing, that after the wedding she wanted them to keep both of their homes and not actually live together, at least not until Jake and Lucy were older.

Maybe it was the effect of the champagne but in retrospect it seemed quite a sensible idea, in spite of the fact that it would be cheaper living together. Kate had been right when she had said that there would be no upheaval as far as the children were concerned. After all they had only just moved to a new house. Kate had argued that they both liked where they were now living so why change things? After all they were both independent people who each, on occasion would need their own space. With such an arrangement they would not be continually in each other's pockets, which was healthy in itself.

She was tidy and orderly while he was not. They would each be responsible for their own washing and ironing and take turns to cook meals for one another. If he wanted to see her, he would phone to ask if he could come over. On these occasions he would most likely stay the night. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to be a good arrangement. It would be a marriage in which they would hopefully keep their love alive as things would not get stale. Other people would no doubt think it was a weird arrangement but the more he thought about it, the more civilised it seemed.

He could hear Kate singing loudly in the bathroom so he stripped down to his boxer shorts and slipped on a terry bathrobe which he found in the closet.

"Would you like a top up?" he called, not expecting to be heard. When there was no reply, he picked up the bottle of champagne and made his way through to her.

She was lying in deep foam with her eyes closed, her head resting against the rim of the bath. She had scooped up her shoulder length hair with some combs so that her neck and shoulders, the only parts of her visible, glistened.

He walked over, knelt down and gently tapped her left shoulder. She opened her eyes with surprise.

"Want some more bubbly?" he asked, brandishing the bottle. She nodded and smiled as he topped up her glass.

"Aren't you going to join me?" she asked provocatively.

He shook his head and put the champagne bottle on the floor so that he could bend down and kiss her shoulder but at that moment, Kate turned her face towards him and instead he gently kissed her moist, pink lips. She was so relaxed that he wanted to join her in the bathtub but decided not to because merely kissing her while she looked so desirable had made him desperately want her. He felt a surge of excitement and not wanting to alarm her, murmured thickly, "Enjoy the rest of your soak. I'll be waiting for you next door."

Minutes later, Kate released the bath plug and dried herself down. She wrapped herself in the large, fluffy towel which she tied under her arms, leaving her shoulders bare and walked through to Luciano who was sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping his drink.

When he saw her, he put his glass down, walked over and kissed her gently while loosening the towel, which fell to her feet. She could feel him touching her and his mouth on hers while his hands explored her body. She shivered with excitement.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

They sat on the bed which was soft and as he slowly kissed her again, Kate felt more and more comfortable. His arms were strong and warm. She lay down and rolled over onto her stomach.

"I suspect I've had a little too much to drink," she said, giggling. "Are you trying to take advantage of me, Doctor McKinnon?"

"Of course not," he replied, kissing the back of her neck. Suddenly they were both lost in raging passion as the pain and loneliness of the past few months melted away.

*

The following morning, they both joined Esther and Bruce Franklin for breakfast. Kate proudly showed them her ring.

"Most tasteful," said Esther. "When will you be tying the knot?"

"We haven't decided about that yet," replied Kate. "But, you must let me have your address before we leave so that we can send you an invitation."

"Oh, that would be lovely," enthused Esther. "I do so love weddings. Unfortunately Bruce and I have never been blessed with children. Not for want of trying, I might add. So, we haven't had the delights of a son or daughter getting hitched."

Kate thought about Jake and Lucy and tried to imagine life without them and could not. She felt for Esther, particularly as it was so obvious that Bruce had an eye for the ladies. She finished her coffee.

"You must excuse me," she said. "I need to phone my mother to see how the children are and tell them our news."

*

Emma was clearing away the breakfast dishes when the phone rang. She hurriedly walked along the hall and picked up the receiver, somehow knowing that it would be Kate on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Kate. How was dinner last night?"

"We had a lovely time and in case you're worrying, yes, I have accepted Luciano's proposal," Kate replied. "We're now officially engaged. I'll give you all the details when I return."

"Kate! That's wonderful news. Do you want me to tell the children?"

"No. Leave that to me. I'll talk to them and explain everything when I get back. I want to see their faces when I tell them. Have they been behaving themselves?"

"Of course they have. We've enjoyed being with them."

*

Holly, whose GCSE exams were looming ever closer, was having a longer lie in than usual, having spent the previous evening revising until almost mid-night. She finally surfaced at around ten o'clock and went down into the kitchen.

"Kate's agreed to marry Luciano," Emma whispered while the children were playing in the sitting room.

"Lucky old Kate. So she's to be Mrs McKinnon is she? When's all this happening?" Holly replied, wondering if she was going to be a bridesmaid.

"She didn't give any dates. Anyway, it's early days isn't it? After all, they've only just got engaged."

### Chapter 25

At the end of the Easter vacation, Holly said a tearful goodbye to Jason who was once more returning to Spain having spent a fortnight in England.

"Don't cry, Holly," he said. "This is something I've got to do. I'll be going to Uni in the autumn and I still haven't found my father. Anyway, it won't be long before your exams. You'll do much better with me out of the way. There will be nothing to distract you."

"You will get in touch once you're settled and give me your new address, won't you?"

"Of course I will, you muppet. Don't worry so much."

"Will you be home later on during the summer?"

"I doubt it. If I get a job in a bar somewhere, they'll most probably need me right through the season. That'll be their busiest time." He picked up his cases when he heard the taxi driver tooting his horn. "Why don't you come out and join me later on? We'll have a great time," he said, hugging her. "Stay here, don't come out to the taxi, you know how much I hate goodbyes. It won't be long before we're together again and you can write me the odd letter when I've got a new base. Love you."

He kissed her, opened the front door and walked out to the taxi. The driver put his luggage into the boot. Then Jason got in and waved a final goodbye as the taxi screeched way into the distance.

Four days later was the start of the summer term, the last term Holly would spend at secondary school. In the autumn, if she got good grades in her GCSEs she would continue education at the local sixth form college.

Before the onset of exams, there was to be the May Ball but without Jason, Holly was not interested in attending.

On Holly's first day back at school, Emma developed a throbbing headache and having left her migraine tablets at home, left the shop at around two o'clock. Once home, she rested on her bed with drawn curtains for about an hour and afterwards, feeling a little better, was about to go downstairs to prepare the evening meal before returning to the shop when she would check the takings in the till before locking up.

As she got up from the bed, she heard someone hammering on the front door. Opening the curtains, she peered out but nobody seemed to be there. Moments later as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she thought she heard a thud which came from the porch. What on earth was it, she wondered nervously. Plucking up courage, she opened the door and was greeted by Holly, who fell against her and almost collapsed as she sank in a heap on the doormat.

When Holly looked up, Emma could see that her face was bruised and swollen. There was blood on her cheek and tears streamed down her face, mingling with the dirt which encrusted it.

"Oh, my God, Holly. What on earth has happened to you?" she gasped. "Have you been mugged?"

"No, Mum. I've been beaten up by a gang of girls from school."

"What on earth would make them do a thing like that?"

"Because they can, I guess. Can we go through to the kitchen, I need to sit down."

Emma nodded and helped her to her feet.

"I think we both need a cup of tea," she replied. "That's what everyone does when there's a crisis, isn't it? They have a cup of tea. Sit down at the table while I get a bowl of water and some Dettol. That cut looks nasty."

Holly. who by this time felt as if she was going to pass out, shoved her head between her knees. Her face by now was ashen. Emma filled two mugs with strong tea.

"I know you don't normally don't take sugar in tea but since you've had a shock, I'm putting some in. Try and drink it," she said as she washed Holly's face and put a plaster on the cut. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Holly's eyes filled with tears.

"There's this girl at school. Her name's Chloe. She's the ringleader of a gang of girls who try hard to be as tough as the boys. I've been bullied by this gang for about five months now. It all started just after Christmas."

"Why didn't you tell me this was happening?"

Holly laughed. "How could I? What would've been the point? What could you have possibly done? You're a victim too. Look at the way Dad treats you. Anyway, I didn't want to worry you."

At school, Holly excelled at two subjects, Art and English. When it came to short story writing she was in her element and always came top of the class. After all she had been writing stories since she was six. Chloe, the bully, fancied herself as a writer but never had that degree of excellence which gave Holly the edge. It was because of this, that way back in January the bullying had started. It had begun with verbal abuse.

"You used to be one of us. Now you're a swot. Think you're the cat's whiskers, don't you?" taunted Chloe, banging into Holly and laughing as she walked along the corridor. "I've seen you with your weird boy friend. I suppose you think you're ace, wearing those T-shirts of yours. We all think you're just pathetic, don't we girls?" she said to the cronies who stuck to her like glue.

One day in March, there had been a group punching and Holly's face was scratched as they mocked and laughed at her. Holly's confidence waned away as she grew more and more depressed but she still went to lessons, thinking that they would get tired with what they were doing. But, friendships with peers are the key to survival at school and they did not want her to survive. There was no let up with the bullying and then the venomous text messages began.

YOU'RE DEAD MEAT

WE'RE GOING TO GET YOU

They got so bad that Holly was frightened and in desperation rang ChildLine.

"They told me to keep a diary of what happened," she told Emma. "So, I started doing that. I write what they do every day. The woman at ChildLine said it was important not to give bullies eye contact. I tried turning away but it didn't work," she said quietly. "Chloe got so frustrated she ended up head butting me. Do you remember that time when I told you I'd fallen off my bike?"

Emma nodded. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Tell me what happened today," she said quietly.

"All during the Easter holiday I'd been worried about going back to school but I knew it was only for a few weeks because I was leaving just before the exams started," said Holly, rubbing her eye. "We had English this afternoon which I'd been dreading because I knew Miss Carson would be giving back our pre Easter short stories. She told the class that all the stories had some merit and that this year the standard had been extremely high. She then said that she wanted to read the final page of my story to the class and invite them to make comments. I was so embarrassed when she did this. Chloe, who was sitting behind me as usual, so that she could make snide remarks, prodded me in the back and whispered venomously, "Bitch! My story was heaps better than yours. You're just Carson's pet. I'll get you for this. And, keep away from my boy friend. I saw you talking to him during break."

Holly took a sip of her tea, making a face because it was so sweet.

"They followed me after school," she continued. "All eight of them. When I'd got as far as the entrance to the park , they started punching and kicking me. I began to scream as I fell to the ground because every punch and kick was so painful. I managed to get up but Chloe hit me down again. She's big, built like a tank. I pleaded with them to stop but they just laughed. It was obvious from the way they were looking at me that they hated me." She looked at Emma. "Eventually a car pulled up alongside us. There was a man and woman inside. As the man got out, shouting, the girls ran away. The couple asked me where I lived. They were very kind. I didn't want them to know my address so I asked them to drop me off at the end of the lane. I walked the rest of the way."

Emma reached out and took Holly's hand, then got up to give her a hug.

"Ouch! That really hurts," said Holly. "Perhaps it might be a good idea for me to have a bath and get myself off to bed. One thing's for certain. I'm going nowhere near that school again .I wish Jason was here."

"I'm so sorry about what's happened. About everything, I really am. I don't know what to say to make things better. I'll go and see the headmaster tomorrow."

"No! I don't want you doing that. Just leave it, Mum. To be honest I'm surprised by your concern because I've never been sure that you love me. Sometimes I get the feeling that you hate or resent me for some reason. It's obvious that Kate's your favourite. I'm trying hard to think of one occasion when you've shown me affection. I sometimes wonder what it is that I've done wrong. I seem to get on better with Aunt Ginnie than I do with you."

Emma sighed. "Maybe you're right," she replied. "About me not giving you any affection. I've tried so hard but it's been difficult. It's time I told you something. Time for you to know the truth. Maybe then you'll understand." She looked into Holly's eyes. "Go and have a bath first. I'll be waiting for you down here ."

*

When Holly came downstairs about half an hour later, she found her mother pouring herself a glass of wine.

"I need this," said Emma. "Would you like some?"

Holly shook her head, sat down on the sofa and asked: "Well, what is it you've got to tell me?"

"There's no easy way to say this but it's about something which happened a long time ago before you were born."

"I think I will have some wine after all. Just half a glass please."

"Okay, there you go," said Emma as she handed her the wine. Holly could see that her mother looked very nervous. "The year before Kate took her A Levels and then went on to her nursing training, I felt the need for some stimulation in my life, a new interest if you like, something to alleviate the boredom. So, I joined a local drama group."

"I didn't know you were interested in drama."

"I'm not really, not now. As I said this was a long time ago, before I went into business. Anyway, I met an interesting group of people and we all got very close. There was one guy in particular, Matthew, whom I often used to chat to during our coffee breaks." She finished her wine and poured herself a second glass. Like me, Matthew was trapped in a loveless marriage and had joined the group to get away from his wife's constant nagging. Anyway, as you now probably guess, Matthew and I fell deeply in love with each other."

"Are you trying to tell me that this Matthew guy whoever he is, is my father?"

"No, it was nothing like that but we were making plans to run away together. You see, I felt once Kate started her nursing training, she would have her own life in London and wouldn't be too upset about me leaving your father."

"What happened then?"

"Some well-wisher had seen us meeting for coffee each Saturday morning at that little place at the end of the High Street. You know the one I mean. It's a florists now but at the time in question it was an interesting little bistro." She sighed. "Anyway, I came home from rehearsals later than usual one evening. I'd had to stay late the previous few nights as we were making last minute preparations for a production which was due to be staged the following week."

As Emma paused she looked at Holly and her eyes filled with tears.

"Your father, having found out about Matthew, flew into a rage immediately I got home. There was a scuffle and he punched me in the face before pushing me to the floor. He put his hands around my throat. I thought he was going to throttle me. He was so strong. He shouted that I shouldn't be putting myself about, which I wasn't for nothing had happened between Matthew and myself. Then he did something so unexpected. While I was pinned to the floor, he ripped my clothes off and raped me. He hurt me so much inside and I remember that I started to scream. He told me to shut up because the neighbours would hear. Fortunately Kate was staying with friends that night. I whispered that he shouldn't have raped me and all he said was that he was my husband. How could it be rape? Nobody would believe me anyway."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"A few weeks later I realised that I was pregnant. In the circumstances I could no longer run away with Matthew, not after what had happened. I was doomed to remain in my loveless marriage and just had to get on with it. Approximately nine months later you were born."

"I was the result of a rape?"

"Yes, Holly. Now can you begin to try and understand why I have found it difficult to give you affection?"

"I ruined your life. You could have been with Matthew if it wasn't for me."

"No, you didn't. It was your father who did that."

"Whatever. It makes no difference. I'm going to bed."

*

The following morning, Emma was awake by five thirty and unable to get back to sleep, decided to take Bathsheba for a pre-breakfast walk.After showering and dressing, much to the animal's delight, she picked up Bathsheba's lead and together they made their way out into the calm of early morning. Emma breathed deeply, enjoying the freshness and purity of the air.

At the end of the lane she encountered Jim Banks delivering milk as he had done for the past twenty five years or so. Emma had never seen Jim walk. He ran as he delivered and the crate which he carried, always made a jingling sound. He seemed surprised to see her, nodded and gave a friendly wave.

"Morning, Mrs Ferguson," he said red-faced and breathless. "Reckon I'm getting too old for this lark. Maybe I should think about retiring soon. I seem to have been delivering milk for ever. What are you doing out so early?"

"There's something I need to think about and I find that walking usually helps me to sort things out," she replied. "I love the smell of everything this time of the morning, don't you? With dew on the grass everything seems so fresh."

"Best time of the day I reckon," said Jim as he ran back to put the empty crate onto the float.

"Bye, Jim" she called as he drove off.

Whilst walking Bathsheba, she could not help noticing other people's front gardens. It was surprising that so many had resorted to paving slabs in front of their houses. Okay, they might loathe gardening and need somewhere to park the car but surely a pot or two filled with brightly coloured plants would not go amiss. Even a hanging basket would make a difference and nothing could be more low maintenance than that.

She was dreading going back to the house for she knew that it would be obvious to Bill that something had happened when Holly came down for breakfast. What was the best way to tackle the situation?

Once home, she laid the breakfast table made some coffee and read the newspaper while she waited for Bill and Holly to make an appearance. As usual, when he came down into the kitchen, Bill gave her an early morning grunt and then helped himself to a bowl of cereal.

"Where's Holly/" he asked. "Won't she be late for school?"

"She's probably having a lie in. She wasn't too well yesterday so I'm not sure if she'll be going to school today. I'll give her another five minutes and then go up and see how she is."

At half past seven Emma went up to Holly's room and tapped gently on the door. When there was no reply, she quietly let herself in, thinking that she must still be asleep. To her surprise and alarm she found that Holly's bed had not been slept in. The room was empty. On the bed was a note.

Dear Mum,

I'm sorry but I can't stay here any more. Not after what's happened. Don't worry about me. Things being the way they are, I think it's best that I leave. Please look after Bathsheba.

Love Holly.

Emma ran downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Holly's not in her room. She's run away," she said, handing Bill the note. "What on earth are we going to do?"

### Chapter 26

From the moment she got off the train at Charing Cross station, Holly realised that before the sun went down and it became too dark, she would firstly have to find some employment and then somewhere to spend the night.She cut a sorry figure as she trudged along for her entire body ached from yesterday's attack. The gash on her cheek was beginning to itch so she popped into a nearby pharmacy for a bottle of Dettol, some cotton wool and a packet of elastoplasts.

In a public convenience, she washed her face and cleaned the cut as best as she could before covering it with one of the plasters. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her bruised face was still slightly swollen. Her eyes filled with tears, one of which trickled down over the plaster. Part of her yearned for her home but she knew she could never go back. Not now. She brushed the tear way. No time for self pity, she thought. You make your bed, you lie on it. The thought of a bed made her aware of just how tired she was for she had not eaten since grabbing a sandwich on the train.

Once out in the street again she looked at the map which she had bought at the station. There was a post office nearby. While she was packing, Holly had remembered to put her post office savings book into her rucksack. She had £534.18 in this account so planned to look for cheap bed and breakfast accommodation for a night or two while she searched for some kind of employment. She went into the post office near Trafalgar Square and withdrew some money.

As she passed shop windows she glanced at her reflection and wondered who on earth in their right mind would want to employ her. Then she saw a burger bar with a notice in the window:

HELP NEEDED DURING EVENINGS

APPLY WITHIN

Perfect, she thought as she pushed open the door and walked in. She went up to the counter and ordered a diet coke, vegeburger and French fries.

"Is the evening work still available?" she asked the sallow-faced man as she paid for her order. "It's vital that I find a job as quickly as possible."

"Yes, we do need someone. Hold on a minute, I'll get you an application form. What happened to you? Have you been in a fight?"

Holly shook her head miserably.

"No, someone beat me up if you must know."

She sat down, munching her food hungrily then washed everything down with the coke. Slipping her hand into the front compartment of her rucksack, she located her biro. She opened up the form and filled in as much as she could including her date of birth for she had just turned sixteen and would be eligible for benefit if necessary should she need to top up her earnings. When she got to the section where she had to include her address she had no idea what to write. Trafalgar Square? London Embankment? She finished her food and drink and then went back to the counter.

"I've only just arrived here today," she said. "I haven't an address yet. I need to find a job and then look for somewhere to live.

*

By the time she reached work, Emma had a splitting headache brought on by Bill's reaction to Holly's note. He had ranted and raved for about a quarter of an hour before leaving her in floods of tears as he left for work.

"What's happened to bring this on?" he had shouted. "Something like this doesn't happen overnight."

Emma shook her head as she shrugged her shoulders. She knew that in no way could she mention the real reason for Holly's departure so simply said:

"She was beaten up by a gang of girls from school yesterday. Apparently they've been giving her a hard time since New Year and yesterday afternoon everything came to a head."

"You should have dealt with things better. Then she wouldn't have left home. Things are always your fault, aren't they?" he replied, slamming the door as he left.

*

By eleven o'clock only two customers had come into the shop. As trade was quiet, Emma left Lizzie to carry on with the stocktaking, making the excuse that she needed to go home to fetch her migraine tablets.

"I'll be back to cash up," she promised.

When she arrived at the house and opened the front door, Bathsheba came running along the hallway.

"Hello, old girl," she murmured as she went into the kitchen to let her into the garden. "Looks like it's just you and me against the world from now on."

After making herself some coffee, she took a couple of Hobnobs from the biscuit tin and munching one of them made her way upstairs to the medicine chest in the bathroom where she located her painkillers.

*

Kate received her decree absolute three weeks after Luciano had been sent his. They had decided to be married in the autumn and on the morning Holly left home, Kate was busily making a start with wedding preparations when the phone rang.

"What do you mean, Holly's gone? She'll be back," Kate replied as her mother agitatedly told her the news.

"She says in the note she left that she's never coming back," said Emma, tearfully. "And I believe her."

"Oh no. Who's going to be my chief bridesmaid? We can't have a wedding without Holly."

"I think we might have to. I can't talk about what happened over the phone. I'll write you a letter as soon as I've got my senses together, Kate. It's possible she may get in touch with either you or Ginnie instead of me. I'm phoning Ginnie after this call. Please let me know if she contacts you."

"Of course I will. Now try and stop worrying. Knowing Holly, she'll probably be as right as rain. Did she take Bathsheba with her?"

"No, she didn't. The poor animal's sitting by me here. I'm sure she can sense something's wrong. Anyway, I'll say goodbye and leave you to get back to what you're doing."

"Bye, Mum. Take care," she replied , putting down the receiver.

Emma drank her coffee and after phoning Ginnie, went up to Holly's bedroom. She looked at the walls covered with posters of David Beckham and some boy band she did not recognise. In the corner by the window was the tailor's dummy Holly used when designing her own clothes, next to the electric sewing machine on the table under three pine shelves housing all the paraphernalia that a dressmaker uses.

There was a small, portable television and a stereo system on shelving on the opposite wall. Apart from splashes of gold in the accessories, the room was predominantly pink and purple and like its owner oozed femininity. Emma looked at her reflection in the full length mirror on the wardrobe.

"God, I look dreadful," she muttered, walking over to the bedside table. A copy of Huxley's 'Brave New World,' lay by the table lamp. She pulled open the top drawer. Inside was Holly's diary. Feeling guilty that she was invading her daughter's privacy, she opened it and flipped the pages back to January. Tears filled her eyes as she read each entry for Holly had recorded every miserable detail. The poor girl had gone through absolute hell for weeks. At the end of March she had written.........Sometimes I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up again. Then it would all stop........

By now tears were streaming down Emma's cheeks. One fell onto the page which she was reading. She brushed it away, and as she did so some of the writing became smudged. Filled with shame, she closed the diary and slid it back into the drawer.

"What kind of useless mother am I?" she whispered. "So useless that she couldn't even confide in me. Oh, please God, let her be safe. Please let her contact me."

### Chapter 27

Holly stood outside the Social Security building wondering why she had been so stupid. She had left home in such a rush and forgotten to pack her birth certificate. She had no form of identification and had just discovered that without it she would not be eligible for benefit.

Most of her money was gone. It had been eaten up by a week's bed and breakfast accommodation. Without help, there was no way in which she would be able to continue to live in such luxury. She had to find some way of making money where it was 'cash in hand', no questions asked. If she had to sleep rough for a while so be it. Having enough money to eat was a priority.

*

A couple of hours later, found her walking along the Embankment, carrying a newly purchased sleeping bag, along with her rucksack in which she had packed the lightweight blanket and blow-up pillow which she had also purchased at the discount store. She would have to sleep rough but at least she would be reasonably comfortable. The very small amount of money left would have to be kept for emergencies and from now on, like countless other young, homeless people in London she would have to find other ways of surviving.

There was a small group of people about ten yards ahead. They were gathered round a young man who appeared to be a pavement artist. Filled with curiosity she walked closer. The artist reminded her of Van Gogh. He had the same unkempt, reddish-gold hair and beard but unlike the famous painter, wore spectacles. He was totally engrossed in what he was doing and the pictures, there were in all four of them, were surreal and very colourful.

Holly knelt down beside him to get a closer look. She felt in her pocket and withdrew a fifty pence piece, which she placed in the box near where he was working. He looked up at her, nodded and smiled.

"Thanks!" he said.

"You're very talented, they're beautiful," Holly replied. Someone else put some money into the box. "Are you a student?" she asked.

"No. It's just my way of making a living, if you can call it that. Apart from also busking on the Underground," he replied, nodding towards the guitar which was placed against the wall behind him. "Why, are you a student?"

"That's a difficult one to answer. I'm not really sure what I am at the moment. I ran away from home just a week ago, so I suppose I'm homeless."

"If you fancy hanging around until I've finished this last one, we can go and get a cup of tea and a bite to eat and have a chat. My name's Sam. And you are.....?"

"Holly. Holly Ferguson. Pleased to meet you, Sam."

*

"You can't get a job unless you've got a home and you can't get a home unless you've got a job. The familiar Catch 22 ," said Sam an hour later as they sat on the steps outside the entrance to the church of St Martins-in-the Fields.

"How long have you been homeless?" asked Holly as they munched their jacket potatoes.

"Just over a year or thereabouts. It's amazing how quickly time flies."

"I'm surprised that you don't have a place of your own. Your artwork is so good that I would've thought you could make enough so that you didn't have to sleep rough."

"No chance. It's true I do usually make enough in a week to be able to afford a small rent but it's the deposit you see. I can never seem to get enough together for that."

"So, where do you sleep then?"

"Wherever the mood takes me. I usually try not to be alone. When I want to forget I'm homeless, I go to a night shelter for homeless young people. Inside it's warm and cheerful and there's food and music. We can go there tonight if you like."

Holly, in desperate need of being cheered up, nodded.

"If we're lucky enough to get in, you'll be able to meet some of my friends."

"What are we waiting for?" said Holly, picking up her baggage.

*

"There's no way we'll be able to come here again tonight," said Sam as they left the night shelter at eight o'clock the following morning. "There are so many other young, homeless people in this city that I only usually come here once a week."

"You were right though, about it being warm and cheerful and it was great to be able to do some washing and have a shower," replied Holly. "Where are we going to sleep tonight?"

"Most of the time, when the weather's warm as it is now, a group of us go into the park and spend the night there. As it's nice and sunny we may as well go there now. I'll introduce you as a new member of the group."

*

"Hi, Sam. You must have been at the shelter last night," said a fresh-faced youth, lying sunbathing on the grass.

"Morning, Jed. Morning everybody," said Sam to the other three who made up the group. "This is Holly, my new friend. She left home a week ago and like us has no identification so I've asked her if she'd like to join us."

Holly looked round at the motley group and smiled. As she sat down on the grass, a little dog, a black and white Jack Russell terrier, ran excitedly over to her.

"Oh, he's so sweet," said Holly, stroking the small animal's back. "Whose is he?"

"He's mine. I'm Mick. Pleased to meet you Holly. And this is Benny," he replied, tickling him under the chin. "He goes everywhere with me so I'm never able to go to the shelter. Instead I share my sleeping bag with him. Mostly we sleep in the Underground where I play my tin whistle. Passers by seem to like him, many of them give us a few coppers so I usually make enough for me fags and some grub for both of us."

Holly looked at him sadly He appeared to be the oldest person there. His face, a kind face, was tanned and weather beaten and he had spiky, blond hair. As she cuddled Benny, her eyes filled with tears.

"I've got a dog at home," she told him. "Her name's Bathsheba. She's getting on a bit now. I'm missing her like crazy. I love dogs, quite often I prefer them to humans."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Mick replied. "My thoughts exactly. And do you know why it is? It's because dogs never let you down. No matter what, they never let you down."

"Unlike some people I could name."

Holly looked closely at the other two people to whom she had not yet spoken. One was a lad, a little older than herself, whose head was covered with black curls. He seemed very withdrawn. Dressed completely in denims, he was busy studying his trainers. The girl looked about her own age. She had a sullen expression and eyed Holly suspiciously. She had long, dark brown hair which she wore in braids.

"Who are those two, Sam?" asked Holly.

"Justin and Ruth. Ruth's about your age I should think. She ran away from home because she was abused by her step father. She's okay once you get to know her but understandably she doesn't trust people very much," he whispered.

"And, what about Justin? Not very talkative, is he?"

"Justin is s bit weird. He hears voices in his head, telling him to do things. He's probably listening to them right now. So, if he behaves strangely, don't be surprised."

"Poor chap. How long has this been going on?"

"As far as we can make out, from what he's told us during his more lucid moments, it all started after he didn't do too well as his GCSEs. His parents had apparently had high hopes for him and were very disappointed. He told me that that he couldn't take all the pressure so in order to get away from reality, he started to smoke cannabis. Look what it's done to him. He's twenty now."

Holly stood up and walked over to where Ruth was sitting.

"Hi," she said. "Do you mind me sitting by you?"

"Suit yourself. It's a free country."

"I just thought that as we're both girls we should stick together. I'm new to sleeping rough. Perhaps you can give me some tips."

Ruth made eye contact at last and replied:

"It helps if you're not on your own. You're lucky that you met Sam. We tend to look out for each other," she said, withdrawing a large bar of chocolate from her bag. It was fruit and nut chocolate, Holly's favourite. "Here, have some of this. Chocolate's supposed to raise your spirits, something about endorphins I believe," she said, breaking off a large chunk and handing it to her. Holly took it hungrily. "What happened to make you homeless, Holly."

"It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you one day."

Ruth went round in turn to the others and gave them chocolate.

"What a beautiful day it is," said Jed, smiling and squinting up at the clear, blue sky. "Chocolate and sunshine. What more could anyone want?"

"Somewhere to live and a job," mumbled Justin.

### Chapter 28

Apart from the steady stream of regulars coming in for coffee and a chat, trade at the shop had been relatively quiet. When the phone rang just before eleven o'clock, Emma somehow sensed that Holly would be on the end of the line. She was right. The call was brief. When asked if she was coming home Holly said:

"...No, I'm never coming back".....

"...Where are you? Are you all right?".....

"...I'm okay, Mum. I'm in London. I've made some new friends. Don't worry about me please but look after Bathsheba. I miss her so much, "she said, choking back tears. The line went dead. Emma put the receiver down.

Over a cup of coffee Emma pondered the situation. Pulling out a copy of Yellow Pages from the shelf below the counter, she looked up estate agents. She chose one and dialled the number.

"Good morning, how may I help you ?"

"I'd like to make arrangements to sell the lease of my shop," she replied.

"Right, Madam. Just let me get a form and I can write down your details."

*

"What's Justin doing with that pile of newspapers, Mick?" asked Holly as she fondled little Benny. The group had just walked to Leicester Square and were sitting on seats among the plane trees, admiring the flower beds and taking in the fresh, morning air.

"That's one of the weird things he does. He's always rummaging around rubbish bins and if he finds a newspaper, he tends to read it from cover to cover, no matter how out of date it is."

"Why?"

"Who knows? Maybe one of his voices has told him to do that."

"I wonder if there are any crosswords in them. I love doing crosswords and it would be a way of passing the time," Holly replied. "I used to do one every day when I was at home."

"Why don't you ask Justin if he's finished with any of them?"

"No, I'm a bit scared that he might react strangely if I were to do that."

"To tell the truth he does tend to get a little upset if anyone touches them. He might be okay with you though."

"No, I think I'll give it a miss," said Holly as Benny licked her face. "I phoned my Mum yesterday, Mick. I'm not sure why, I guess I just wanted to hear her voice and find out how my dog was. I'm not going back home though."

She tried not to think about Bathsheba for every time she visualised her soft, brown eyes, her own eyes filled with tears.

A few minutes walk away was Trafalgar Square. "Let's go and watch the pigeons and wash our faces in the spray of the fountains," said Sam, sensing Holly's unhappiness. "I'll do some artwork at the square today. There are always plenty of visitors there at this time of year. It might be profitable."

They picked up their baggage and apart from Justin, who appeared to be in a world of his own, en masse, made for the paved expanse of the square.

*

Luciano arrived around ten thirty to help Kate plant some ornamental trees which she had just purchased from the local garden centre.

"We'll soon have to start thinking about the wedding," said Kate as she handed him the spade. "As we've both been married before, I've been thinking that a registry office do might be best. How do you feel about that?"

"That sounds all right. You know I'll go along with anything you want. Now, where do you want me to plant this ornamental maple?"

"Behind that rhododendron bush by the path," she replied as she looked at Lucy walking across the lawn. "Come here, darling, and bring your wheelbarrow over here will you. You can load these weeds into it for me," she called. Lucy who was desperately anxious to help came trotting over. She was wearing her new red wellies and blue dungarees and pushing the toy wheelbarrow which she had begged her mother to buy her at the garden centre.

"Doesn't she look cute in those dungarees, Luciano?"

He nodded and smiled as Kate filled up the small wheelbarrow.

"Now I want you to go and put these weeds on the rubbish dump please."

Lucy happily trundled off but a few minutes later there was a shout. It came from behind the rubbish dump.

"Mummy, Mummy, come here!"

Kate went to see what was the matter. Lucy had found a dead blackbird and was crying.

"Oh, dear, I hope it's not the one that always sang on the roof above my bedroom window," said Kate.

"Not necessarily," said Luciano, who was just behind them. "I've sometimes seen as many as three in the garden at the same time."

"Wake up, bird," said Lucy.

"It can't, darling," replied her mother. "It's dead."

"What's dead?"

"It's gone to sleep and won't wake up," said Kate. "It looks like a very old bird to me. Maybe it was ill or very tired."

"I think we should give it a funeral so that it can be buried properly," said Luciano.

He went away to find a small cardboard box, some pieces of wood and a ball of string.

When he returned, he placed the bird carefully in the box, dug a hole near where it had been found and buried it. On the small mound of earth above the grave, he ceremoniously placed a small, wooden cross which he had made from a couple of lollipop sticks joined together with string.

"It'll be safe from cats down there," he said gently to Lucy. Now, I think we all deserve a drink, don't you?"

He walked back to the house and Kate followed him into the kitchen. Lucy remained in the garden, fascinated by the worm she had just found.

"It's difficult to know what to say to a small child about death, isn't it?" said Kate as she filled the kettle with water.

"Yes, it is. I've never asked you Kate but what do you think happens when we die?"

"I'd like to think that it's not the end of everything and that we go to a better place, away from all the dreadful things in this world," she replied. "I've never told you about the dream I had whilst in hospital, have I?"

"Which dream are you talking about?"

"I dreamed that I topped myself and went to what I think must have been Heaven for a while before God sent me somewhere very cold. Heaven was a beautiful place, a garden filled with the most incredible flowers, music and light. And, there were birds flying around and singing." She took a sip of the tea she had just made. "I hope that if there is a Heaven it is a beautiful garden and that it's nothing to be afraid of." She looked searchingly at him. "What are your thoughts on the subject?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "I'm not sure there is anything after we depart from this world. The body's only a shell, isn't it? I like to feel that we never die because we live in the hearts and minds of those we love and leave behind."

### Chapter 29

While Kate was making wedding preparations, unknown to Bill, Emma was planning her getaway.

The lease of the shop was quickly snapped up as a going concern by a buyer who was discerning enough to realise just how much of a gold mine the small business was.

By the end of June, all of Emma's preparations were in place and on the morning of her departure Bill left early for work leaving her to enjoy a swift breakfast and complete her packing. Kate had agreed to give Bathsheba a home, much to the excitement of the children who had been badgering her about getting another dog to replace Morag, their Westie who had developed cancer of the upper jaw the previous year and had been put to sleep.

Emma had booked a flight from Manchester Airport which left late that evening. With her luggage packed into the boot of the car and Bathsheba comfortably settled on the rear seat, she went back into the kitchen for the last time and placed the letter in a prominent position so that Bill could not fail to notice it on his return.

*

Kate was in the front garden dead-heading some roses when Emma arrived. After greeting her mother and fussing over Bathsheba, they went into the kitchen where she made Emma a cup of tea.

"So, you've done it at last, you've finally made the break. Now you've the rest of your life to look forward to." said Kate.

Emma exhaled deeply and smiled at her. "You can't imagine the sense of freedom I'm experiencing," she replied. "My only sadness is Holly. She says she's never coming back. I fail to see how she can completely turn her back on all of the family, particularly as you're getting married again in the autumn."

"Maybe she'll feel guilty nearer the date. Does she know you've left Dad?"

"No. I've no idea how to get in touch with her. All I know is that she's somewhere in London." Emma paused while she sipped her tea. "It's possible that she may eventually contact you, Kate. If she does, put her in the picture about all of this. Oh, and before I forget, can you give her this letter from Jason, which arrived for her from Spain."

"Where are you going, Mum?" she asked as Emma handed it to her .

"I'm fulfilling a lifelong ambition but I'm not telling you right now, in case your father contacts you to ask where I've gone. I don't want to put you in the position of having to lie. It's against your nature. It's none of his business anyway. My life is my own from now on."

"You're making me very curious," said Kate. "I almost envy you. You will let me know where you are once you've arrived at your destination, won't you?"

"Of course I will. Maybe you can all come and visit. Oh, I nearly forgot here are the keys of my car. As I no longer need it, and I'd like you to have it."

*

Bill arrived back at five to an empty house. He went straight into the dining room and poured himself a large scotch before making his way through to the kitchen. It was impossible for him not to notice the envelope propped up in front of the kettle.

Realising that the letter was from Emma, his first thoughts were that no dinner was prepared for him. He tore angrily at the envelope and withdrawing the contents, sat down with his drink and laid the letter flat down on the table. He read......

Bill,

This may come as a bit of a shock but I'm leaving you. I don't love you, I never have and refuse to live in an abusive marriage a moment longer. The lease of my shop has been sold and I am going away to start a new life. There's nothing here for me any more now that Holly has gone,

My solicitors have been instructed to start divorce proceedings and as the house is in joint names, it is soon to be put on the market. I am sure you will find solace and a home with your latest conquest. God help her.

Emma.

He banged his fist on the table before standing up and kicking his chair across the room. It landed in front of the washing machine. There was whiskey everywhere. "How dare she leave me, the bitch. It should have been me leaving her," he said between clenched teeth.

*

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes we will be landing at Malta International Airport. Please extinguish all cigarettes and fasten your seatbelts," said the handsome, male steward as he walked up the gangway.

Emma put down her novel and made sure she was securely strapped in. There would be time to adjust her watch to local time before leaving the plane. She closed her eyes as she felt the aircraft begin to lose height. Travelling conditions had been good and she was hoping the landing would be as smooth as the take off had been. She was not disappointed. The landing was very smooth as the plane cruised along the runway.

Three o'clock in the morning was not the ideal time to be arriving somewhere new. As she left the plane, Emma was surprised and overwhelmed by the intense humidity. She could feel her clothes sticking to her and beads of perspiration gathered on her upper lip. She was reminded of the Tropical House at Kew Gardens which she had visited the previous year, where she had expected such humidity. Nobody had said anything to her about Malta being so hot during the nights in summer. Okay, it was late June but the humidity overpowered her. She groped in her handbag for her inhaler and took a couple of puffs to ward off an impending asthma attack.

"Well, Nanny Lovelace," she said quietly to herself as she walked through Customs. "It's taken a long time, but I'm finally here."

Nanny Lovelace had not been her real nanny. Her proper grandma on her mother's side had died when Emma had been just six years old and the other three grandparents were dead before she was even born. She had a vague memory of Grandma, a small, white haired, bespectacled lady who had regularly come to see her mother by train. But, Emma had never had a chance to get really close to her. Not like she had with Nanny Lovelace.

The trek through customs was relatively painless. However, at the Air Terminal there was a problem with conveyance to her hotel. Emma and her fellow companions were told that transport to Sliema would not be available for half an hour. Everyone groaned, for in spite of the air conditioning, most of the travellers , including Emma, were dead on their feet In fact, by this time, Emma was so weary she used her luggage trolley as a prop.

There was a great deal of complaining amongst the group with which Emma wholeheartedly agreed but she felt that complaining was not really positive as it would not bring their transport any quicker. Still, after the impressive flight the situation did rather take the gilt off the gingerbread. She settled for sitting down and closed her eyes.

After what seemed like hours but was probably indeed only about thirty minutes, a somewhat harassed, overweight guy, sporting a goatee beard, rushed up to the group and said: "I am sorry for the delay. Please follow me."

Their transport turned out to be a somewhat battered, old dormobile type vehicle which had definitely seen better days. The subsequent journey to the hotel was interesting to say the least. When one is driven at break-neck speed through a labyrinth of back streets, where there is little lighting, in the early hours of the morning, the only thing to do is hang on for dear life. Which is what they all did. Emma looked at her fellow passengers and grinned sheepishly.

"I've heard about the Maltese and their driving habits," she whispered, out of earshot of the driver.

" Yeah and during the day most of them drive in the shade so you take your life in your hands every time you take to the road," replied the thin faced man sitting opposite.

*

Emma's parents had moved into the lower half of an Edwardian house when she was around a year old. Kitty Lovelace and her husband Pip, lived at the top of the house. Once Emma was mobile, it was not long before she found her way up the stairs and into Kitty and Pip's flat. Grandparents themselves four times over, the old couple grew to welcome her visits, which while she was a toddler, were cut short by the arrival of Emma's mother, Diana. As the years went by and she grew older, it became a regular occurrence for Emma to have tea immediately she came home from school and then go upstairs to spend about an hour with the elderly couple. Emma talked to Nanny Lovelace about almost everything. She found the old lady and her husband interesting, for Kitty had been a lady's maid to the wife of an eminent politician in London, prior to marrying her husband, Pip, a military man.

Pip had served overseas when they were first married and Kitty had accompanied him whenever possible. They had lived in Malta for a short time and fond memories of the island made Kitty say to Emma when she was around ten years old: "If you ever get the chance, go to Malta. You'll love it."

One by one her fellow passengers were dropped off at their respective hotels and when Emma finally arrived at hers, she dragged her luggage over to the reception area, where she checked in, picked up her keys and made her way up to the third floor by lift.Once inside the apartment, she turned on the ceiling fan in the bedroom, stripped down to her underwear and collapsed, exhausted, on the bed. She was asleep within minutes.

### Chapter 30

On the same Sunday as Emma arrived in Malta, Luciano turned up at Kate's house with a small pair of binoculars for Jake.

"How would you like to go over to Southport and do some bird watching, Jake?" he said, looking at Kate. "The pier there has undergone an incredible transformation and apparently it's the second longest pier in the United Kingdom. From the end of it we'll be able to watch huge numbers of birds in flight as the tide advances. It's such a lovely day, do you fancy coming too?"

"No thanks, Lucy's a bit young. I think she'd get bored. But, I'm sure Jake will enjoy it. We'll just have a nice quiet time on our own in the garden. There's loads to do and I want to be here in case my mother phones from wherever she is."

"Okay, it looks like it's just you and me, Jake," he replied.

"Anyway, I didn't know you were into bird watching," said Kate, eyeing the large pair of binoculars which he was holding.

"I'm not really but I thought I'd like to start now and it would be nice to have some company." He looked down at his binoculars. "These were my Dad's. I found them at the cottage after he died. He was a member of the RSPB."

"I didn't know that."

"No, well you wouldn't, would you. I've never told you." He looked at Jake. "Make sure you wear some warm clothes. The pier's long and it can get very cold at the end of it if the wind gets up. That's where everyone will be."

*

Emma woke around noon. The room was cool as the fan was still rotating at full speed.

She walked through to the kitchen area and located a tumbler which she filled with water. Her throat was parched and the water was like nectar as she swallowed it. She looked approvingly at the accommodation which she had been too exhausted to notice on her arrival. It was rustic in style and homely. Glancing out of the window, she could see people splashing around in the pool. She would join them later after a luxurious soak in the bath and some breakfast.

There was a 'welcome pack' which had been left for her. As well as dried items there was milk and other perishables in the fridge. She decided for the moment to make do with cornflakes and orange juice and try to find something more exciting in the shop which she knew was somewhere in the hotel complex.

The bathroom was white and clinical. White tiles and a white suite of the Italian style with a very deep bath. As she climbed in Emma wondered how on earth an elderly person would cope with it. Maybe elderly people did not choose this hotel.

Once back in the kitchen, she ate her cornflakes and drank the juice. After filling her beach bag with essentials- sunglasses, sun cream, paperback novel, towel and some loose change, she donned her swimming costume and set off to locate the pool.

*

"When I was about your age, my Dad used to take me out in a rowing boat round the cove near where we lived in Dorset," explained Luciano. " We used to watch the sea birds too. I had a great time," he continued, as they neared the end of the pier.

"So you're doing with me what he did with you, which is good. After all, you are going to be my new dad aren't you?"

"Sure am."

In front of them was the architectural style pavilion.

"We'll have a look in there before we go home," said Luciano. "There's a café where we can have a bite to eat and a warm drink."

They walked over to where some adults were looking through large telescopes.

"Do you work here?" Jake asked one of the men.

"Yes, he does," said Luciano. "You're one of the rangers, aren't you?"

The tall, slim man with a weather beaten face, nodded and smiled. "Let me show you how to use this telescope, sonny," he said to Jake ."And after that you can use your binoculars."

They were both given lists of birds which it was possible to see, with pictures to help them along. As they identified some of them, Luciano looked at Jake and could see that it was obvious from his enthusiasm that he was enjoying himself.

*

After a swim in the pool and a much needed sleep on a sunlounger, Emma draped her sheer, silky beach wrap round the lower half of her body, picked up her belongings and went in search of the Mini Mart.

The hotel complex was confusing, being on several levels but she eventually found what she was looking for, only to be disappointed by the lack of fruit and vegetables.

"We have to rely on what we're brought from the mainland," said the shop assistant. "We'll be getting more in tomorrow."

Emma was grateful for the fact that everyone in Malta spoke English, for Maltese was a most difficult language to master. It was obvious too, that Maltese people loved the English. She had never in her travels met such friendly people.

After walking back to the apartment, she changed into a cool, cotton dress and a pair of espadrilles, then made her way downstairs by lift. At reception, she asked for directions to the sea front, where she located a newsagent. She bought a copy of The Times, Malta's local paper and walked over to a nearby café. While drinking her coffee, she looked at the section in the paper which listed accommodation for rent. She was initially booked in at the hotel for three weeks, after which she needed to find somewhere more permanent to live. Once the house back home had been sold and the proceeds split, she would look for a modest home to buy. Her needs now were few. Of course, in order to afford this she would need to find work, preferably her own small business.

By now it was cooler. There was a bus stop a few metres away and she decided to catch a bus to the capital, Valetta and find somewhere to have a meal. The bus was cramped and noisy. The heat was oppressive and as was to be expected, the journey erratically alarming. Emma was glad she had her hand-held fan with her and wafted it to and fro for most of the journey. She and her fellow passengers got off at the runabout bus terminal and Triton Fountain and entered the city through the Modern City Gate with its arcade and complex of shops on either side.

The sound from the church bells was beautiful as she made for Republic Square, where some construction work was in progress. At an outdoor café she sat down at a table and ordered a lager and lime. After perusing the menu, she chose a mushroom omelette with French fries and a side salad.

It was a good time to be visiting Valetta as by now shadows were cooling the streets and she could hear modern music playing. The waiter who took her order was pleasant in manner but unfortunately had a problem with personal hygiene. This was so acute that each time he wafted past her, tray held aloft, she was forced to turn her head away and hold her breath, which was frequently, as they were very busy.

Pigeons were strutting around and one pushed its luck by actually jumping on her table. Assuming it must think she was a soft touch, she shooed it away. While waiting for her meal to arrive, she withdrew notepaper and a pen from her shoulder bag and began to write a letter to Kate.

Her meal eaten, she spent the next hour window shopping. At a fashionable boutique she spotted some colourful beach wraps. Thinking that now she was planning to live in Malta it would be a good idea to have more than one, she decided to treat herself and buy another. She worked out that it was good value for money and anyway it was so much nicer than the one which she had bought back in England. It was pink and orange and the pattern was bold and unusual. Then, after another coffee, she made her way back to the bus terminal just in time to catch the bus back to Sliema.

*

Luciano and Jake arrived back at Kate's house at around tea time.

"Did your mother phone?" asked Luciano.

"No. I've a feeling that she's probably not going to get in touch for a while. I'm just going to have to be patient. Have you had a good afternoon, Jake ?" she said, as she looked at his tired but happy face.

"It was brilliant but I think you were right when you said that Lucy might have been bored. We had to wait around a lot. The Rangers showed us the birds through telescopes and as the tide came in , huge numbers of them were flying around and when the tide was at its highest, they rested. I think they call it 'roosting'?" Luciano nodded his head. "Anyway, after this we went into the pavilion for a drink and a cake. It was really interesting in there. Look, I've brought home some leaflets."

"You certainly have," replied Kate, looking at the bundle in his hand and laughing.

"Then we went outside again. As the tide began to go out we watched the birds feeding. Some robbed food off other birds."

"So, you had a good time then?"

"It was great, Mum. Can we go again some time?" he asked, looking at Luciano.

"Yes, but not for a while. We'll wait until the autumn when we'll be able to see different birds."

### Chapter 31

A week later found Kate as usual on Saturday morning, drinking coffee and catching up on the latest news with Anna. Since Kate's move to the new house, because of the distance it was more convenient for Anna to visit Kate.

"Have you fixed a date for the wedding?" asked Anna.

"Yes. We've had to put it forward for a couple of reasons. The second week in November is the first weekend when Luciano has no work commitments so pencil it into your diary. Also, we're hoping that this will give my sister, Holly, enough time to come back to us. We'd arranged that both Holly and Lucy would be bridesmaids."

"No news from Holly yet?"

Kate shook her head. "She really knows how to upset people, doesn't she? How's your coffee?" she asked.

As Kate was giving Anna a top up, she heard the letter box click. Hurriedly walking along the passageway, she scooped up the mail and returned to the kitchen. To her surprise there was a package from her mother. She looked at the postmark. Valetta.

Her mother was in Malta. Feverishly she tore at the envelope.

"You look excited," said Anna. "Is it news from Holly?"

"No. It's from my mother. She's gone away to start a new life if you remember. I've at last found out where she's gone. She's in Malta."

"Lucky old her. I had a fabulous holiday there a few years ago."

Kate scanned quickly through what her mother had written so as to get the gist of everything. She would read the letter more slowly later on, when she was alone and could look at the photographs.

"She's already visited the capital, Valetta," Kate told Anna. "She was having a meal there when she started to write this letter. Tomorrow she's going to see someone about renting an apartment. She also says she's planned a day trip to Sicily to see Mount Etna and signed up for some scuba diving sessions. That's something I've always wanted to do, Anna," said Kate putting the letter down.

*

Near the end of July, Jake broke up for the long, summer holiday and during the first week, Cassie and baby Zac came to stay for a few days. The weather was warm and sunny which enabled them to spend as much time as possible in the garden.

On a particularly balmy afternoon, Cassie and Kate were lying on lilos on the lawn while Jake and Lucy played in the sand pit. Zac had been placed on a blanket in the shade where he could play with the baby gymnasium which Kate had retrieved from the attic.

"Zac's enjoying himself," Cassie remarked.

Kate looked towards where he was lying. He was gurgling and continually moving his arms and legs.

"He's so gorgeous. Looks like he's pedalling for England," she replied.

"Are you getting broody, Kate?"

"No, I'm not but he's so cute."

"Do you think you might have another child with Luciano?"

"I'm not sure really. What I'm planning to do in the near future is get some kind of qualification in psychiatric nursing. Luciano has this dream of having his own clinic and the two of us working together in it." She looked over at Lucy who was intently studying a flower. "What are you doing, Lucy?" she asked, walking over to her. Lucy was staring at a bumblebee.

"Bee can't fly," she said. Kate smiled. "Yes, it is having a bit of trouble, isn't it That's because it's got so much pollen from flowers in the baskets on its legs. It'll probably go back to the hive where it lives soon, leave the pollen there and then come back for some more."

They heard the jingle from an ice-cream van in the road.

"Can we have one, Mum?" asked Jake.

"Only if you say the magic word."

"Please!" Kate went into the house to get her purse.

*

A couple of days after Cassie and her baby had returned home, Luciano received a letter from Mrs Perry in Dorset. In it, she informed him that renovation work on Dove Cottage was at last complete. It had been decorated throughout in white emulsion which made everything look much larger and brighter. The old kitchen units and the bathroom suite had been ripped out and new ones installed. Many window frames had also been replaced.

.I think you'll be impressed with the result, she had written. My husband has been working hard in the garden and it is now almost restored to its former glory. All that remains now is the furniture. It would perhaps be best if you could come down yourself to arrange about which pieces you wish to keep and those which you want carted away.......Luciano decided to telephone her.

Hello, Mrs Perry, it's Luciano. Thank you for your letter. I'm phoning to let you know that I'll be coming down this week and arriving late on Wednesday evening. Could you please make arrangements for some food to be left for me and make sure the place is well aired?.....

Of course, I'll do that for you and if I may say so myself, the cottage is looking beautiful..........

I'm very much looking forward to seeing it. Are you and Mr Perry well?...

Yes thank you. We're fine. I'll see you when you pick up the keys.......

Goodbye, Mrs Perry and thank you........

*

While Luciano was down in Dorset, Kate received a second letter from her mother.

Dear Kate,

I thought I would write again and tell you my latest news. This morning I made arrangements to rent an apartment in St Juliens a little west along the coast. I'm moving there in about ten days, at the end of my three week's stay at the hotel. It's a temporary measure while I await the sale of the house. The apartment is kind of luxurious. It has three bedrooms which of course I don't need. However, when I do eventually manage to buy my own property it will have to be furnished. The two spare bedrooms will come in useful for storing furniture which I plan to buy over the coming weeks. It is so exciting to be starting over.

The apartment enjoys sea views which is lovely first thing in the morning and at sunset. There's a television, video recorder, washing machine and telephone installed so I've got everything I need for the moment with the exception of one thing. I need my own small business so plan to do the rounds as far as estate agents are concerned.

Since I've been here, I've found that the wonderful thing about the break away from routine, particularly if you're on your own, is the absence of time as you normally perceive it. It just fails to exist. It doesn't matter what time of day it is. You can do what you like during the night, do aerobics in comfort if you wish, with the ceiling fan going full blast. It doesn't matter what you do because nobody's there to criticise. You're totally free if you're on your own.

Must dash. I'm going to walk down to the sea front now. There's a newsagents there where I can buy English newspapers. The girl who works there told me that they are there by 6.30 p.m. It's just after six o'clock so if I leave now I'll be there by the time she opens.

My love to you all.

Mum.

### Chapter 32

Two evenings before she was due to leave the hotel, Emma went down to the bar for a drink. Because she was on her own, she usually chatted to the young and handsome bartender about this and that. Joe Debono was tall and slim, with black, curly hair and wide luminous eyes. Because of their conversations, Joe knew that Emma had come to Malta to live.

"Hello, Mrs Ferguson," he said. "Some friends of my parents are in tonight. I think you might be interested in meeting them."

"Why's that, Joe?"

"Because I think Lawrence might be able to help you."

He put down the glass which he had been polishing and beckoned her to follow him. A three piece band was in this evening, playing modern jazz and at the table next to them sat an elegant looking couple. They looked up as Emma and Joe approached.

"Good evening, Joe," said the man in the well cut suit. "How are things?"

"I'm fine, Lawrence. I'd like you to meet Mrs Ferguson. She's from England and has decided to make her home in Malta. She's on the lookout for a small business and I thought you might possibly have something on your books." He turned to Emma.

"Mrs Ferguson, may I introduce you to Lawrence and Antonia Zammit. As you may by now have realised, Lawrence owns an estate agency."

Lawrence shook hands with Emma and motioned for her to sit down at the table. Dark haired and olive skinned, he was, thought Emma, typically Maltese. She reckoned that he was probably in his early forties. His slim, pretty wife was considerably younger.

"What kind of business did you have in mind?" he asked.

Emma spoke at length about the business which she had run in England.

"I think I may have one or two possibilities but rather than wait till morning, why don't you come home with us after we leave here and we'll look up everything on the computer."

*

Lawrence and Antonia's white-walled villa, enjoyed sea views over Quwra bay. To the rear were terraces and a swimming pool. Inside were marble floors and the obligatory air conditioning. Lawrence Zammit had done well for himself, thought Emma as he turned on the computer.

"You'll really be able to cash in on the tourist trade with this," he said. "True, we are in the heat of summer but remember, you'll have people visiting the island until early November. In fact, many people choose to come then, when the weather is cooler."

Emma looked at what had come up on the screen. The business was in Bugibba, one half trading in gifts, while the other was a take-away fast food stall. She noticed with some amusement, that the business was named SPUD-U-LIKE.

"I believe the present owners have a vast turnover in jacket filled potatoes amongst other things," Lawrence explained, smiling.

"I had a coffee shop back in England," said Emma, "but I suppose it would be sensible to keep everything as it is for this season and plan any changes during the winter months, when I'd be closed."

"The proprietors have recently built the business up, which you'll see if you decide to look at the accounts. They now wish to retire due to the husband's poor health. Would you like to come and meet them tomorrow?"

"It'll have to be the day after tomorrow," Emma replied. "Tomorrow I'm going on a day trip to Sicily, to see Mount Etna."

*

Kate and the children had just arrived at Luciano's flat. It was his turn to cook an evening meal and he was busily working in the kitchen from which came an appetising aroma.

"Umm, that smells good," said Jake. "What are we having?"

"Spaghetti Bolognese. It's not quite ready so can you two go and look in the toy box for something to play with," he replied.

"How's your day been?" asked Kate.

Luciano turned away from what he was doing, took her in his arms and kissed her meaningfully.

"Much better now you're here," he replied. "And, it's improving by the minute. How are you ?"

"Fine. I received another letter from my mother today. She seems to be settling into her new life very well, in fact, she's achieved an incredible amount in such a short space of time. Here - let me read you some of what she's written."

The apartment I'm renting suits me fine for the time being. It's wonderful to have my own space. I always wondered how I would feel living on my own and I love it. I've found a business with a good summer turnover. I take over next week and in the meantime will be interviewing young people to help in the take-away food side of the shop.

Last week I went on a day trip to Sicily, the largest island in the Mediterranean. We left Sliema and travelled across to the fishing village of Pozzallo by high speed catamaran. At Pozzallo, we were transferred onto luxury, air conditioned coaches which took us to the north of Mount Etna. Our excursion guide, a student named Francesca, such a nice girl, explained that Sicily's economy is largely based on agriculture but there is also some light industry ( art and crafts, ceramics etc.). Farmers mostly live in nearby towns. They come in the mornings to let the animals out and come back in the evenings to take them in again.

Sicily is big on grapes and olive oil production and seventy per cent of the peppers, aubergines and tomatoes are exported to the EU. As I looked out of the coach window I could see oranges and lemons growing between prickly pear trees. Francesca told us that prickly pears are Figs of India and were imported by Christopher Columbus.

"We stopped for refreshments at Modica, a baroque city which has one of the most impressive cathedrals in Sicily, the Church of San Giorgio, rebuilt after the earthquake of 1693. Sicilians enjoy an easy going way of life with an interesting cuisine which we were able to sample. A cuisine with olive oil, pasta and an abundance of fish, shellfish, fresh vegetables and fruit from the region.

After this break, we climbed back into the coach and as we travelled on, Francesca explained that Etna is surrounded by typical Sicilian villages where the people live in harmony with the volcano, despite repeated eruptions. Etna is forever smoking and in a continuous state of activity. It is the highest volcano in Europe and also one of the most active in the world so as you can imagine, I couldn't wait to see it. By-the-way, it's difficult to believe but they actually ski on Etna during the winter.

The coach took us up to the famous Silvester Craters, born out of the 1892 eruption. The panoramic view from the top was truly amazing. We could even see over to mainland Italy. We stayed here for about an hour which gave us long enough to browse through the souvenir shops and have a drink and a snack at a restaurant. I bought you and Luciano a small statue of an elephant carved from Etna lava and some gifts for the children which you should receive soon...........

Kate stopped reading and looked at Luciano.

"She goes on to say that as well as coming here for the wedding, she'll be visiting at Christmas every year if we don't mind and maybe we'd all like to go there for a holiday next year."

"Sounds good to me. Jake and Lucy would love that. You know, I'm surprised with the way your mother's got on with her life. To be honest, I didn't think she had it in her. She always seemed so quiet."

"That was because she was unhappy and living with my father."

"The meal's ready now. I just have to serve it up. After the kids have washed their hands, we'll eat."

### Chapter 33

Ginnie had just returned from her nearest supermarket from which she had purchased the weekly provisions. The weather was hot and sunny, with a cloudless, blue sky. After unpacking everything, she made herself a mug of tea and went out on deck to attend to her beloved pot plants. She was met by a welcome breeze. Totally absorbed with removing dead flowers, she was unaware of the two police constables, one male, one female, walking down the towpath until a voice said:

"Mrs Sanders? Mrs Ginette Sanders?"

She looked up. When she saw who her visitors were, colour drained from her cheeks and thoughts flooded through her brain for she had always associated a visit from the police with bad news.

"Yes, I'm Ginnie Sanders. Has something bad happened? It has, hasn't it?"

"P.C.Wainwright and this is W.P.C Jordan," he replied. "It's a nice boat you have here. We need to talk to you about your niece, Holly Ferguson. May we go inside and have a chat please, Mrs Sanders?"

"What's wrong? Has something happened to her? We've all been frantic with worry since she ran away."

She ushered them both inside.

"Please sit down," she said. "Would you like a cup of tea? I think I need one."

"Yes, I think we've got time for that. Thank you, a cup of tea would go down very well. Now, about your niece. Holly's been attacked. She's in hospital. Her injuries are quite serious but from what the doctors have told us, she's over the worst."

"Oh, no. Not again. She was beaten up by some girls from school before she ran away from home."

Ginnie suddenly felt old and tired. She looked at P.C. Wainwright who had removed his headwear so that a shock of blond hair fell across his brow. His face was grave. It was a handsome face, with high cheekbones and vivid, blue eyes. His companion, W.P.C. Jordan was about four inches less in stature, slim, brown haired and attractive in an elfin kind of way. She smiled at Ginnie.

"We tried to contact Holly's mother at her shop but they said it was under new management and that she'd gone away," she said.

"She's in Malta," Ginnie replied.

"And then there's Holly sister, Kate but she lives rather too far north so Holly thought it would be best if we contacted you as next of kin."

"I still haven't made you both a drink, have I?" said Ginnie as she filled the kettle with water. "While the water's boiling, you can tell me exactly what happened."

*

Holly and Sam had tried to get into the hostel because they both needed a shower but by the time they got there it was full.

"We should have left the Underground earlier," said Sam. "Looks like it's going to have to be another night in the park but let's go and get something to eat first. At least the weather's fine with no threat of rain."

They had had a somewhat lucrative day with Sam's artwork and their combined efforts at busking. Sam's pavement drawings had been much appreciated along the Embankment. He liked having Holly with him while he was working. He called her his 'lucky charm'.

"Things have most definitely looked up since you arrived," he had told her a few weeks previously.

Holly did not have the heart to tell him that for most of the time she felt 'surplus to requirements' and a bit of a hanger on. So one evening she said:

"I need to be independent and make some money of my own."

"What's your voice like, can you sing?" he asked.

"I'm not too bad at jazzy numbers," she replied. "Shall we give it a go?"

They had given it a go and from that moment on Holly had never looked back. The public loved her sweet, soulful voice and the small change which was thrown into the box had more than doubled each time they performed. So much so that at the end of each session, Sam gave her half of what they made.

And this is what they had been doing before their abortive attempt to get into the hostel. They had spent a couple of hours in the Underground busking. Sam had played his guitar almost non stop. These days he chose tunes which suited Holly's voice.

With her new found independence, Holly was able to buy fresh fruit which she shared with the others in the group if they were around. She also bought herself a large, hard backed exercise book and a packet of ballpoint pens. After all, she loved writing stories. Why not write about her experiences while sleeping rough? She decided to keep a journal which she meticulously filled in every evening. When the light failed she used her torch.

Walking away from the hostel in the direction of the park, Holly said:

"Did I ever tell you that I had a boyfriend back home who played the guitar? He didn't play jazz like you do. He played classical and flamenco."

"Wow! He sounds a bit out of my league," Sam replied. "Won't he be missing you?"

"He left for Spain shortly before I ran away from home. He's no idea I'm here. I doubt if I'll ever see him again. He'll be wondering why I'm not replying to his letters."

By the time they arrived at the park, the gates were locked so they both had to clamber over the fence. They found Jed, Ruth and Mick with little Benny in their usual sheltered corner. They sat down and shared out the food which they had with them.

"Have some chocolate," said Ruth, producing an enormous bar of fruit and nut.

"Where did you get that from Ruth?" asked Holly.

"I nicked it. There's this dozy old cow who runs this kiosk. She hasn't a clue. I nick chocolate most days."

"If you're not careful you'll get done for shoplifting and be banged up for the night," said Mick as he gave a dog biscuit to Benny.

"So what? I'd be in a cell for the night. Big deal. At least I'd be nice and warm, have somewhere to sleep and be given some food."

Holly raised her eyebrows as she swigged down her food with a bottle of water. Then she withdrew the journal from her rucksack and started to write. By now it was beginning to get dark so she turned on her torch.

"Where's Justin?" she asked.

"He went off this morning. Said he had something important to attend to and hasn't been around all day. His newspapers are still in a pile over there," replied Jed. "My God, he's weird."

"No, he's not, Jed. He's ill and needs treatment. I hope he's come to no harm. He should be back by now." She frowned. "Well, if he's not around he can't object to me doing a crossword in one of the papers."

She picked up a battered copy of the Daily Mail and turned to the back page where she knew the crossword would be. Settling herself comfortably in her sleeping bag, she made a start with the clues but was quickly overcome by tiredness and abandoned what she was doing and closed her eyes.

There was a full moon which shone through the canopy of trees. It lit up the corner where, during the night, five young people and a small dog slept.

*

Before Justin walked back to the park and clambered over the fence, he had already killed a man. The moonlight helped him find Sam and the others and when he reached the sheltered corner, he went in search of his newspapers and sat down by them.

He looked at the others while they slept and could not help noticing one of his newspapers lying on the ground next to Holly for by now there was a gentle breeze and the outer pages of it were fluttering up and down.

He crept quietly over and could see from the light of the moon that Holly had done some of the crossword.

"Bitch," he muttered. "Bitch! That's my newspaper."

Sliding his blood stained hand into the pocket of his anorak, he withdrew the penknife and flicked open the blade. Holly stirred and turned over so that she was facing him. Her throat gleamed white by the light of the moon. Justin leaned over her, put his face near hers and whispered hoarsely:

"Why did you do it, Holly? That newspaper was mine."

Drowsily she opened her eyes.

"Justin? " she said. "Is that you?"

There was a flash of steel as the penknife slid across her throat. Although dazed, Holly felt the searing pain and with the realisation of what was happening, gurgled and screamed. There was a great deal of blood.

Sam scrambled out of his sleeping bag and hurried over just in time to see Justin making off at speed. By now the others were awake. There was a dreadful commotion. Little Benny was barking.

"Justin's attacked Holly!" Sam yelled. "Give me your scarf, Ruth and come over here."

He showed her how to apply direct pressure on the wound.

"Stay like that!" he shouted. "I'm off to find the nearest phone box or someone with a mobile phone. We need an ambulance."

*

Immediately after the police had left, Ginnie phoned Kate.

"I've some good news and some bad news," she said. "Which would you like first?"

"The good news," Kate replied.

"Holly's been found."

"That's wonderful. What's the bad news?"

"She's in hospital but she's over the worst. I've just had a visit from the police. She was attacked by someone she had been hanging out with. He tried to slit her throat. She was lucky though. His first victim was murdered."

"Oh, my God! Which hospital is she in?"

Ginnie gave Kate all the details and then hung up so that she could ring the hospital herself and find out when the visiting hours were.

*

Later that evening after Kate had put the children to bed and read them bedtime stories, she kissed them goodnight and went downstairs to make a start on a pile of ironing.

She propped the ironing board in front of the television just as a new drama series was about to start and was about to go and fetch the iron when the front doorbell rang.

Luciano stood in the porch, clutching a bottle of wine.

"Am I glad to see you. I'm desperate to talk to someone," she said as he walked into the hall. He handed her the wine. "Thanks!" she said. "I need this. I've had one hell of a day. I tried to call you on your mobile but it was switched off."

"It always is when I'm in the hospital. You know that. I thought we might hire a DVD," he replied. "I've had a day I'd rather forget too and need to wind down. They always seem to give me the most difficult cases. Which film do you fancy seeing? Tell me and I'll nip out and get it now."

Kate looked at him. "I'd rather talk if you don't mind," she said, walking into the kitchen to locate the corkscrew, " and then afterwards perhaps we could make love. That would help you to wind down."

He grinned.

"Sounds good to me but you seem agitated, Kate. What's the matter?"

"Holly's been found."

His eyes widened.

"She's in hospital in London. She'd been sleeping rough with a group of homeless young people and one of them turned out to be a nutter and attacked her with a penknife. He tried to slit her throat. She was quite badly injured but according to reports from the hospital, she's okay."

"Do you want to go down and see her?"

"No. It would be difficult with Jake and Lucy. Aunt Ginnie's taken control of the situation. She's been to see her today. Did I tell you about my aunt?" Luciano shook his head. "She's my father's sister. She lives in a narrow boat on the Thames."

"She sounds fun, I'll be meeting her when we get married, won't I?"

"Yes, of course, she'll be coming to the wedding. Anyway, as soon as Holly's well enough to leave hospital, Ginnie's going to collect her and bring her up here." She looked at him. "I've agreed to her staying here so that she can build up her strength and be well enough for the big day. After all she is going to be my bridesmaid . I want to make sure that she's eating properly. Goodness only knows what she's been surviving on while sleeping rough," she added. "With my mother in Malta, it's the least I can do. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not, she's your sister. Let's open the wine and sit down shall we? Put that ironing board away."

Kate put it back in the cupboard wondering if the mountain of ironing would ever get done. Luciano went away into the kitchen for a couple of glasses. Kate sat down on the sofa and turned the television off.

"Holly wasn't alone with this guy who attacked her," she said when he returned. "She's been hanging around with a group of five young people and he was one of them. It was night time and they were sleeping. She's been particularly close to this lad called Sam. Aunt Ginnie met him this afternoon." she took a large gulp of her wine. "Sam was able to tell her exactly what happened. It was because he took such good command of the situation, that Holly is alive. We've a lot to thank him for."

"Perhaps we should do something to show our appreciation."

"Aunt Ginnie has something in mind but she didn't say what. Perhaps we'll find out later. Anyway, according to Sam, Jason, the lad who attacked Holly was a bit of a weirdo but they didn't realise just how bad the situation was. He used to hear voices in his head, telling him what to do. As far as Sam can make out this was the result of him smoking cannabis long term. I thought cannabis was harmless."

"It usually is. In fact, it can be used for medicinal purposes but just occasionally things can go wrong, which is what must have happened in this fellow's case. It sounds like paranoid schizophrenia."

"He killed a man before the incident with Holly. The police picked him up almost immediately afterwards. He was wandering the streets and wasn't difficult to spot."

Luciano looked at her with concern.

"You're really wound up. Aren't you? It's understandable under the circumstances. Have some more wine," he said, topping up her glass. "I'll stay over tonight just to make sure you're all right."

*

The wound on Holly's neck was healing well and after a week, once the stitches had been removed, she was told that she could go home.

"I'm taking you up to Kate's tomorrow," said Ginnie when she visited the hospital for the last time. "It's all arranged. She wants you to stay with her on the lead up to the wedding. You'll be able to help her plan everything. The children will be so excited to see you."

"I'll have to wear scarves around my neck for a few months and wear high necked clothes. Oh, I know the scar will fade but it's going to take time isn't it?"Ginnie nodded and then enquired:

"Did you ask Sam to come this afternoon?"

"Yes, he should be here soon."

It was another twenty minutes before Sam made his appearance and while they were waiting, Ginnie told Holly about her latest planned trip abroad. She wanted to see the Tuscany region of Italy as she had learned that it was very beautiful. As usual she would be travelling alone and had not booked accommodation in advance so that she would be free to wander where ever she chose.

"I'll be away for two months," she said, "but back in good time for the wedding."

Sam walked into the ward with a bunch of flowers.

"Ah, there you are," said Ginnie as he approached. "Sit down, young man, I want to talk to you."

Looking very apprehensive and seeing as there were no spare chairs, Sam sat on the edge of Holly's bed and waited for what Ginnie had to say.

"I want you to know, Sam, just how grateful I am for the way in which you looked after Holly both before and after she was attacked. My niece has told me that you are a very talented artist. If you are as good as she says, in no way should you be making a pittance and sleeping rough. I want to help you get out of the Catch 22 situation which you find yourself in."

"I never seem to be able to get enough money together for the deposit for some accommodation," he replied.

"Well now, I'm going to set you a challenge, just to see what you're made of. Holly's sister is getting married again during the second week in November. I'm going travelling for a couple of months. My flight's booked for next Saturday. I'll let you live rent free on my boat while I'm travelling. That's the first problem sorted. The fact that you'll have an address, albeit temporarily but nobody need know that."

Sam looked at Ginnie and was about to say something but she raised her hand and continued.

"You'll have two months in which to get yourself some kind of proper, steady work. Work with security so that you can become independent and rent your own place."

She opened her handbag , withdrew her chequebook and wrote him a cheque for one thousand pounds.

"I want you to go and open a bank account," she said. "With this money buy yourself a good suit. You'll need to look smart for job interviews. Also, get a portfolio of your work together. Make it really impressive so that you can sell yourself. It shouldn't take longer than a week for you to do that. You can use the rest of the money for food and general living expenses."

"Thank you. I don't know what to say. Why are you doing this?"

"Because I dislike seeing talent wasted and because I'm grateful to you for saving Holly's life. She's very precious to me. Here's my address," she said, handing him a piece of paper. "I'll expect you on Saturday morning at around ten o'clock. Then I can give you the keys. My flight's in the afternoon. Now, I'll leave you two young people together so that you can say your goodbyes. I've a hundred and one things to attend to."

She turned and looked at Holly who was wide eyed.

"I'll be here in the morning to collect you and we'll go directly to Kate's house," she said as she squeezed her hand.

She walked swiftly out of the ward leaving them both in a mild state of bewilderment. Holly turned to Sam:

"This could be the lucky break you've always deserved," she said. "Make sure you don't blow it.".

### Chapter 34

Apart from a hiccup around Spaghetti Junction when the heavens opened and rain poured down in sheets, making visibility poor, the journey north was uneventful. The fact that it was mid-week helped for the traffic was light. Ginnie and Holly arrived at Kate's house in record time, after only a couple of brief stops.

The reunion of the two sisters was emotional with Kate visibly crying as she hugged Holly.

"You poor, poor thing," she said , looking searchingly at her. Holly looked tired and drawn and as if she could do with plenty of TLC. "How's the wound?"

"Getting better every day. It's beginning to itch which is a bit of a bind but everything's healing really well apparently, " Holly replied. "I've been told that the scar will disappear with time. I guess I'm just going to have to be patient. Where are Jake and Lucy?"

"They're in the back garden, playing in the sand pit. Come through now. You'll be surprised who else is here to see you," said Kate, winking at Ginnie.

As they walked through the house and made their way into the garden via the kitchen door, Bathsheba came running towards them. Holly, surprised and overjoyed, crouched down to greet her, burying her face in the dog's neck. Tears streamed down her cheeks which Bathsheba licked away.

"Oh, my baby, I didn't know you were here. I've missed you so much," she whispered.

Bathsheba sniffed the dressing on Holly's neck and apprehensively backed away. Jake and Lucy got out of the sand pit and rushed towards her.

"Hi, Aunty Holly, " said Jake. "I hear you've been in the wars. Did someone really try and cut your throat?"

"Yes, Jake. They really did and if you don't mind, I'd rather not think about it ."

"Sorry," he replied, kissing her gently on the cheek. "Mum's always saying that I'm getting a bit insensitive. I didn't mean to upset you."

Later that evening, once they had all eaten and the children were both tucked up in bed, Ginnie, Kate and Holly were able to talk more freely. Kate opened a couple of bottles of wine and the conversation flowed even more. So much so, in fact, that Holly told them both the real reason why she had run away.

"Now that really does surprise me," said Ginnie, when she heard about the rape. "I know he's my brother and he's always been a bully but what he did was unforgivable. Poor Emma. Fancy having to harbour a secret like that for all those years. You mustn't feel badly about it, Holly. It wasn't your mother's fault."

Holly sighed.

"I know that now. Anyway, one good thing has come out of all of this, " she replied. "If I hadn't left when I did, Mum would still be with him. In some ways I've helped to give her freedom and a new life."

"Yes, you have, Darling," said Kate, yawning. "Well, I don't know about you two but I'm ready for bed. You will be okay on the sofa, won't you Aunt Ginnie?"

"I'll be just fine. I'll see you both in the morning."

*

Ginnie left at around six and although they both could have done with a lie in, the sisters got up so that they could see her off.

"Take care," said Holly, "and enjoy your holiday. I guess we won't see you now until the wedding."

"That's right. When I get back from Tuscany, I'll be able to find out how Sam's got on during my absence. I won't be coming north again until the weekend of the wedding," she replied, looking at Kate. "I'll be bringing Sam with me so that you and all the others can meet him. I'm sure you'll be glad to see him again, Holly."

Holly nodded. Then Ginnie climbed into her car and waved goodbye to both of them before driving slowly away.

"Let's go and make a hot drink," said Kate. They walked back into the house. "We can start talking about the wedding if you like. Oh, I mustn't forget, there's something I have to give you," she said as they reached the kitchen. She walked over to the dresser. "Mum asked me to give you this letter. She left it with me before her departure."

Holly looked at the Spanish postmark. Feverishly she tore at the envelope and read the contents. Her face fell.

"It's from my boyfriend, Jason," she said. "He's told me that he won't be coming back to England to go to university in the autumn. This letter was sent some time ago. He's met this Spanish girl and has moved in with her," she continued, "so I suppose he's now my ex-boyfriend. It's my fault really. He must have wondered what on earth had happened to me." She stuffed the letter into her pocket. "Oh well, perhaps it wasn't meant to be and after all there are plenty more fish in the sea, aren't there?"

*

A week later, Holly received another letter, this time from her mother.

"She's asked me to go out to Malta for a short holiday," Holly told Kate, "but I think I'll have to give that a miss. If I were to go I'd be wanting to swim all the time and that would be difficult with the dressing on my neck. I'll phone her later and explain that. She is having a good time though and I'm glad. Let me read you some of what she's written:

.....Last week I went by boat to the island of Gozo, Malta's small sister which is quite different to Malta as it's much greener and there are sandy beaches.

While I was there, I was able to chat to some of the local women who spend their days knitting handmade pullovers. One woman, whose designs I particularly liked, was delighted when I said I would like to buy her work on a regular basis. I know they would sell very well in the shop.

I've also been in touch with two manufacturing outlets back home in England. I have commissioned one of them to make me candles with Maltese scenes on them and the other company which produces stained glass ornaments have agreed to make a selection of stained glass roundels which can be hung against windows and will also depict Maltese landmarks.......

Holly looked up at Kate.

"It seems strange getting long letters from Mum," she said. "While we were living together we hardly talked at all. I feel I'm really getting to know her at last."

"I know what you mean. I've had long letters too. It's so much nicer than receiving a phone call. Mum's really come out of her shell, hasn't she?"

Kate walked over to empty the washing machine and looked disbelievingly at her briefs. They were bright yellow.

"Oh, no! I can't have," she exclaimed, pulling out the rest of the washing and finding the culprit. She had put a new yellow T-shirt in with the whites.

"Nobody wears lemon underwear," she groaned.

"You could always be a first," replied Holly, grinning.

*

Later that morning while the sisters were sitting in the garden drinking coffee, Kate explained how they would deal with the scar on Holly's neck on the day of the wedding.

"My outfit is an ivory two piece suit and you and Lucy will be wearing lavender and carrying baskets of mixed, autumn flowers. Jake will be wearing his first grown up suit and will look very smart. We're getting round your neck injury by wearing chokers to match our outfits. If we all look the same, nobody will know about your scar except the family, of course."

"What does your outfit look like?" asked Holly

"I'll get a picture and show you."

*

The rest of the summer passed quickly for Kate and Holly as there was so much to be done. As the weeks went by, Holly grew stronger and eventually no longer needed a dressing on her wound. By way of camouflage, she resorted to wearing chiffon or cotton scarves which had been bought especially, so that they would tone with different outfits.

On a particularly cold evening, three weeks into October, Kate received a phone call. Ginnie was back from her travels and was calling to see how everyone was.

"Thank you for the wedding invitation," she said. "Sam would be delighted to accompany me and be my escort. Is Holly there? I've got him here with me now and he'd very much like to have a word with her."

Kate walked along the passageway and called upstairs to Holly who was in the bathroom, washing her hair.

"Aunt Ginnie's on the phone. Wrap a towel round your hair and come downstairs. Sam's with her and wants to speak to you."

Holly rushed down and excitedly picked up the receiver.

"Hi, Sam," she said. "It's been ages since I've heard from you. What's up? Is something wrong?"

"No, quite the opposite, Holly. Everything's perfect. I mislaid the piece of paper you gave me which had your telephone number on it. It's somewhere in the boat but I haven't a clue where."

"You said that everything was perfect. Does that mean that you've been successful in getting some kind of employment?"

"Yes. I started a couple of weeks ago and I love the work already. I'm designing book covers for a publishing house. In two weeks time, I'll be moving into my own apartment. It's only small but it will suit me just fine."

"Are you staying with Aunt Ginnie until then?"

"No. I've packed up my belongings and will be leaving tonight. Ginnie needs her own space. She's a wonderful woman, your aunt. I can't thank her enough for what she's done for me. A mate from work is putting me up or more accurately putting up with me until my apartment's ready."

"Sam, that's wonderful news. Congratulations."

"Thanks. How are you Holly? Are you well? I think about you all the time and I'm looking forward to seeing you again at the wedding."

"Me too. And yes, in answer to your question, I'm very well."

"That's good to know. Well, I must dash. My taxi's due in about ten minutes."

"Bye, Sam."

### Chapter 35

The morning of the wedding finally dawned. Kate was awakened by Emma who had arrived from Malta two days earlier.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked as she placed a cup of tea on the bedside table. She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains.

"Yes thanks, Mum, I had a really good night, in spite of the fact that I had difficulty dropping off in the first place. I kept wondering what on earth I would do if Luciano changed his mind and didn't show up today," she replied. "Then I realised I was being silly. He's not the kind of person who would let anyone down, least of all me. We're a team."

"Of course he wouldn't. He loves you." said her mother. "Have you remembered that your hair appointment's at nine thirty? I'll run a bath for you. That will help you to relax. Having a shower just isn't the same, is it? What would you like for breakfast?"

"Something light. Cereal and toast will be fine. Oh, and more tea of course. Is Holly awake yet?"

"I've no idea but I'll drop in on her on my way to the bathroom."

By nine thirty five, Kate was with Kelly, who was helping her sort out the way she wanted her hair to be styled.

"I've brought these artificial flowers," said Kate. "I'd have preferred fresh ones but I was afraid they might wilt. As you're piling my hair up on top and sorting out the wisps, perhaps you could inter-twine them across my head at the top."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Kelly replied. "I'm sorry I can't actually come and see you married but Dave and I will be coming to the reception as arranged," she said as she ushered Kate over to the wash basin.

*

Little Robbie Kershaw had reached an important milestone in this life. It was his tenth birthday and as befits someone who has reached double figures, his presents had been all that he could wish for. There had been two computer games, a new football and a book about dinosaurs. Grandma and Grandpa had given him a digital camera which he was very pleased with but his best present of all had been from his mother and father.

The box which it had come in looked just like any other box but when he tore off the wrapping paper, inside was a rugged, electric scooter, which was capable of speeds of up to twelve miles per hour. Robbie was beside himself and desperately wanted to show his best friend, Andy what he had been given. Okay, he would be seeing him at his party later on in the afternoon but that was no good. It was too long to wait. He had to show him the scooter _now._

As he crept out of the house and went off down the road, he forgot that he should never go out alone without letting someone know where he was going. Robbie reckoned that it would only take him about ten minutes to get to Andy's house if he went via the High Street. He could be back in his own house in about half an hour. Mum and Dad would think he was upstairs playing on his computer.

*

Kelly completed twining the flowers through Kate's hair and after spraying it firmly with hairspray, held up a mirror so that she could see what everything looked like at the back. Kate nodded approvingly when she saw the result.

"Kelly, that looks lovely," she enthused. "How much do I owe you?"

After Kate had settled up with her, she reached for her coat and prepared to leave the salon.

"See you at the reception," she called, making her way out of the door. As she felt in her pocket for her car keys, she was unaware of the tile which had become loose in the pavement outside. It made her trip and she lost her balance just as Robbie came speeding along towards her on his scooter. It was impossible for him to avoid her and he watched helplessly as she tumbled backwards, hitting the back of her head on the pavement.

Kate felt dazed as she looked up at the sky. For the first time that morning, she noticed that storm clouds were gathering. Kelly came rushing out of the salon.

"Are you all right?" Robbie asked Kate. "I didn't expect you to trip in front of me."

Kate looked at him and nodded. "I think so," she replied then looked round at Kelly who was helping her to her feet.

"I bet that's properly flattened my hair at the back," she said. "Oh, my head is throbbing."

"I'm not surprised, you really went a cropper. Come back inside, Kate. I'll sort your hair out for you. I saw what happened. That young lad didn't hang around long did he? It was his fault. Fancy going so fast with that scooter thing on the pavement. He should be reported."

"What about the pavements? It was because of the uneven pavement that I tripped and lost my balance. The council's to blame for that. Someone needs to phone them and complain. Oh, my head does hurt. Is my hair ruined at the back?"

"A bit but it's nothing I can't handle. Just give me another five minutes."

*

The time booked for the exchanging of vows was twelve noon. By eleven forty five everyone had gathered outside the registry office. All the guests had stayed overnight at the nearby hotel, where the reception was being held.

Aunt Ginnie looked resplendent in a bohemian fashion. She was accompanied by Sam, who was wearing an expensively cut suit and looked almost handsome. As well as Luciano's colleagues and friends from the hospital, family G.P. Stuart Carson and his wife Elizabeth, whom Luciano had not seen since his father's funeral, had travelled north especially for the occasion.

There were four girls with whom Kate had done her nursing training, together with their partners and Cassie arrived with baby Zac. Kate's Saturday morning coffee chum, Anna, was there with her partner, Mark. Being a professional photographer, he had volunteered to take the photographs and was naturally hoping that the sun would shine at the right time.

Bruce and Esther Franklin, whom Kate and Luciano had met in Paris , had brought a camcorder with them, which delighted Jake and Lucy, who were overjoyed at the prospect of being filmed. Last but by no means least was Isabella, Luciano's mother with her third husband, Roberto, for the marriage to Paco her 'passion' had only lasted three years. Roberto, a wizened, little man was fifteen years older than Isabella. He was Sicilian and rumour had it that in his youth, had been associated with the Mafia, a fact which Luciano did his best to ignore.

When Kate had met Isabella briefly the previous evening, she had found the sixty year old, beautiful, forthright and somewhat flamboyant. Isabella had not seemed able to relax and would no doubt be more approachable with a drink or two inside her. In some ways, she was just like Kate had imagined she would be. After all, what kind of woman leaves a small boy of eight in order to pursue her own happiness?

At around eleven fifty, Luciano arrived with his best man, fellow psychiatrist, Craig Thomas and five minutes later, the chauffeur driven car bringing Kate, Holly and the children, also arrived.

They were wearing similar outfits. The chiffon top of Kate's ivory, pure silk two piece, had beaded detail and frilly sleeves. The 'twenties', beaded skirt was fully lined and had a handkerchief hem. Holly and Lucy's lilac outfits were simpler and without beading but also had handkerchief hems. All three carried mixed, autumn flowers.

"You look gorgeous," Luciano whispered, as they walked inside.

Luciano and Kate made their vows and after the throwing of confetti, the wedding party made its way to the nearby Royal Hotel for the reception, where an extensive buffet had been prepared. Kate and Luciano had decided to have a buffet rather than a sit down meal so that they would be able to freely circulate among their guests.

Following the toasts and speeches, the members of the four piece band, hired especially for the occasion, sat down at their instruments and began to play 'Stardust'. The happy couple stood up and walked on to the dance area and one by one, other couples joined them.

While they danced, Kate looked up and gazed into Luciano's eyes and saw so much love.

"Hello, Mrs McKinnon," he said. "Thank you for making me the happiest and proudest man alive."

"Why, thank you, Doctor McKinnon. Have I ever told you just how much I love you?"

"Frequently but I don't mind you telling me again," he replied, drawing her close and kissing her gently.

Above the buzz of conversation, Kate could hear the strains of 'Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady'.

"Luciano, they're playing your favourite tune."

"So they are. Now, I wonder why that is."

Holly had been cornered by Bruce Franklin and was looking somewhat flustered. She made her way speedily over to Kate and Luciano.

"Kate, you must help me. Who on earth is that dreadful man? He's old enough to be my father and he won't leave me alone."

Kate looked over and saw who Holly was referring to and grinned.

"Oh, that's Bruce. He's harmless but thinks he's irresistible to the ladies once he's had a drink or two. Luciano and I met him and his wife while we were in Paris. She's talking to Mum, Isabella and Ginnie. Her name's Esther and she's lovely. Come over and meet her."

Champagne was flowing freely and the four women, sitting together at a table in the corner had reached the stage when they were laughing at almost anything.

"They look as though they're having a good time," said Holly just as Kate was about to introduce her to Esther.

A short time later, a young couple arrived carrying yet another wedding present and made their way over to the happy pair. It was Kelly, Kate's hair stylist and her husband. Kate introduced them both to Luciano.

"Luciano, this is Kelly and Dave Johnson. Kelly does my hair for me."

"You've made a brilliant job of it today," Luciano replied. "She looks stunning."

"Did Kate tell you she had a fall outside my salon this morning just as she was leaving?"

"No. It's the first I've heard about it."

Kelly filled him in on the details and turning to Kate asked, "How are you feeling? Have you still got a headache?"

"Yes. There's a kind of dull throbbing. I didn't like to say anything but I'd really like some Ibuprofen or something similar."

Luciano ran his hand over the back of her head.

"No wonder you've a headache," he said. "You've a fairly sizeable bump at the back there. I'll go and get you something."

Kate went away to talk to Lizzie, a friend from the past with whom she had done nursing training. Luciano was back within minutes with a glass of water and some pills.

"Here, take these," he said. "The headache should lessen in about twenty minutes."

Each time she looked across the room, Kate noticed that Cassie was in deep conversation with Sam, who for most of the time had been playing with baby Zac. Zac was by now asleep so Sam had gone in search of Holly. Kate thought it was the ideal time to go and chat to her friend.

"So, you've finally hooked him then, Kate," said Cassie. "You've got a good catch there. In fact, to tell you the truth, there was a time when we were in hospital when I sort of fancied him myself."

"Was there? You never said anything."

"Well, I wouldn't would I? Why on earth would he be interested in the likes of me with you around?"

"Oh, Cassie. Don't be like that. Be happy for me."

"Oh, I am, I am. I just said that I fancied him too once."

Kate looked across the room to the dancing area where Sam was with Holly.

"You seemed to be getting on very well with our Sam," said Kate. "A most interesting young man, don't you think?"

Cassie nodded.

"Yes and a kind one as well. He loves children. Apparently he comes from a large family. He seems so made up with Zac that I've invited him to come and stay with us for a few days once he can sort things out at work. He says he likes the sound of the way I live." She paused. "I guess he's a bit of a hippie too. I might even suggest that he becomes my lodger. It wouldn't be impossible for him to commute from where I live."

"Oh, yes? And what would John think about that when he comes to see Zac?"

"He'd be perfectly all right about it. Sam has explained that he's gay, Kate."

"Well, that's a turn up for the book. Holly doesn't have a clue. That explains why he never came on to her while they were both sleeping rough."

"I guess. Anyway, in some ways Sam would be the perfect lodger. He'd be someone to talk to at the end of the day who'd make no demands. And, seeing as he loves children, I'd have a built-in baby sitter. What more could a girl ask for?"

"Someone to share your life properly with?"

"Umm. I come with an awful lot of baggage, don't I?"

"So what? It didn't stop me. One day, hopefully, you'll find your Mr Right."

*

By around six o'clock, many guests had drifted away or gone in search of the bar. Just family and close friends remained, thinking that they too, should be making a move but still enjoying the music.

"We should think about going and getting packed," said Luciano. "You know, last minute things, We need to get to the airport by eight. The flight leaves around ten o'clock. Let's just have one more dance."

"Where did you say we were going for our honeymoon?"

"I didn't. Nice try. You know it's to be a surprise."

"You and your surprises! Well, I've got one for you too but I'm not going to tell you what it is until we reach our destination," Kate replied as he took her in his arms once again.

"Is it my imagination or is it really hot in here?" she asked.

Kate could vaguely hear the music in the background but everything seemed hazy and more and more distant. She looked up at Luciano who seemed to be out of focus. The pain in her head was excruciating.

"I feel faint," she whispered, putting a hand to her temple. Blood drained from her face as she slumped against him and sank to the floor.

Luciano looked frantically for Stuart who was talking to Isabella and called him over.

"Stuart! Kate's collapsed. What on earth's the matter with her? Is it just the heat in here?"

Stuart laid Kate gently on the floor. Her eyes gave the impression that they were staring at nothing. He felt for a pulse at her wrist and then said, "We need an ambulance immediately. Can someone phone for one? Her pulse is very weak."

"She fell and knocked the back of her head this morning. Could that have anything to do with her condition?" asked Luciano as he cradled his wife in his arms.

"Possibly, I don't know. They'll be able to tell us more at the hospital."

"Mummy, Mummy, wake up!" called Lucy.

"Come away, Darling," said Holly, choking back tears. "Mummy's not well."

*

In spite of the sterling work done by both the paramedics and the emergency team of doctors, Kate never regained consciousness and died soon after her arrival at hospital.

Afterwards, in the relatives room, Stuart, who had remained with Luciano through every minute of his ordeal, said:

"If it's any consolation, she didn't suffer at all. Everything happened so quickly. The last memory that she had was that she was in your arms and that you loved her."

Luciano's eyes filled with tears.

"We were only married for six hours," he whispered, " but I felt that I'd known her all my life. We were going to do so much together. We had so many plans. What on earth am I going to say to the children? Help me, Stuart. I don't think I can cope."

"Jake and Lucy are part of Kate and you must cherish that fact. For that very reason you _have_ to cope. The children love and respect you. Everyone can see that. As they grow up, you'll see more and more facets of Kate emerging. Not only in the way they look but by the way they act. Lucy looks so much like her."

Tears streamed down Luciano's face. He sobbed uncontrollably while Stuart held on to his shoulders.

"You need to be prescribed with some medication," Stuart continued. "I'll go and arrange for it and also book a room for you at the hotel. I think it's best that you stay there tonight. You need a good night's sleep. I'll break the sad news to everyone."

*

The front page of the local paper that weekend featured not only the sad news about the wedding tragedy. There was a second story.

MISSING BOY

Robbie Kershaw, the ten year old whom some say was partly responsible for the death of Kate McKinnon, has been missing for four days. His distraught parents said that for his tenth birthday, they had given Robbie a power scooter and that unbeknown to them, he must have left the house with it that morning. Robbie was later seen scootering along the main road by passers by who saw him collide with Kate McKinnon, causing her to fall and hit her head on the pavement. From this fall, she sustained an injury from which she subsequently died. Local police say that Robbie is still missing and that they fear for his safety.

Kate's funeral, a week later, was an understandingly sombre occasion during which many tears were shed and memories recalled. All who had gathered at the wedding were once more united but this time by grief.

Afterwards, it had been arranged that Luciano should stay with Isabella and Roberto in Venice, for three weeks. Isabella had taken it upon herself to organise this and Luciano, who could see no real reason for living, had concurred, being in no fit state to do anything else.

"It's just for three weeks," Isabella told Emma. "He's on too much medication to be able to look after the children at the moment. He needs time alone."

"That leaves Holly and I with them, doesn't it?" Emma replied. "That's not so bad in the short term but you do realise that I've recently made a new life for myself in Malta, don't you? I've just taken over a new business as well as the renting of an apartment. I'll need to get back to both of them as soon as possible."

"It's only for three weeks," Isabella assured her.

"I'm grieving too," Emma replied. "It won't be easy with Jake and Lucy. Can you realise how hard it is for me? Parents should die before their children, it shouldn't be the other way round."

"I know, Emma. I'm so sorry. My task, I feel, is to try and help Luciano come to terms with what's happened. It won't be easy either but I'm going to try."

### Chapter 36

Although Luciano did not realise it at the time, being with Isabella helped him. She had not been emotionally involved with Kate and could therefore talk dispassionately about her. This was helpful in itself, seeing as he was suffering from a temporary but still very real depression, following Kate's death.

Had he remained in England, he would have been unable to express his grief in front of Jake and Lucy and this would have prolonged the grieving period. As it was, Isabella encouraged him to talk about Kate, let out his feelings and cry. She asked many questions about the young woman who should have been her new daughter in law. Talking about Kate was therapeutic. Isabella encouraged these conversations every day and Luciano's depression gradually lessened as he came to terms with what had happened.

A few days before the three week period was up, he expressed his thoughts during one of their normal conversations.

"My place is with Jake and Lucy. There are so many things which I have to sort out. To tell you the truth, I'm missing them. I'm also missing my work which is good.

Had I returned to the hospital earlier, I would have been restless and trying to justify the fact that I was keeping my mind busy. I would have been a mess. Coming here has been my salvation."

Isabella smiled sadly.

"It's been nice having you with us in spite of the sad circumstances. Now, do you want me to phone Emma?"

"Yes. The time has come for me to return and face my responsibilities."

*

When Luciano stepped off the plane at Manchester Airport, it was mid December and the Christmas festivities were but two weeks away.

He dropped his luggage off at his apartment and after sorting through the mail, phoned Kate's house. Emma answered.

"How are you, Luciano?" she asked.

"Better for having had the break, I think. How are the children and how are you and Holly?"

"Sad of course but the crying has more or less stopped. Jake's been very quiet. I'm rather worried about him. Both of them are looking forward to getting presents from Father Christmas and they're also very anxious to see you. We'd like you to come for a meal this evening. Can you?"

"I'd like that very much. What time do you want me?"

"Around six. Then you'll have time to read them a bedtime story."

A lump filled his throat.

*

Emma explained over dinner that she would be staying with Holly and the children until after Christmas but that she had to return to Malta in the New Year.

"Trade's more or less non existent at this time of year," she said. "Very few people visit the island during December through to February. My solicitor in Malta has been instructed to close the business down over Christmas but I will need to get back to my apartment and to the business in January and make a start on the alterations."

"I really appreciate you staying here with Holly and the children," Luciano replied. "Once you're back in Malta I shall have to start looking for a housekeeper who can look after Jake and Lucy twenty four seven."

Lucy, who had been playing with her food started to cry.

"Don't want a housekeeper," she sobbed. "I want Mummy."

"I know you do, Darling," Luciano replied. We all wish she was still here. But, Mummy's not really gone. We may not be able to see her but she's still here in spirit. She's in your heart and mind and always will be. I'm certain that she's looking down watching everything that you do because she loves you so much," he continued, choking back tears.

After the children were bathed and tucked up in bed and while Emma was washing the dishes, Holly challenged Luciano on the question of him employing a housekeeper.

"I'm wondering why you feel the need to employ a housekeeper for the children round the clock," she said. "Surely you'll be here to look after them most evenings, unless of course you're on call and I'll be here during the daytime."

"I'll be continuing to live at my apartment, Holly," he replied. "It's what Kate and I planned, well it was more what Kate wanted. She felt that we should each have our own space once we were married."

"She never said anything about that to me."

"Well, she wouldn't would she? It was a private arrangement which we had. I'll be coming round each day to see Jake and Lucy of course. That goes without saying. But, I won't be sleeping here, I'll be in my apartment. There are too many memories of Kate here. As for you looking after the children," he shook his head. "You're much too young to make such a sacrifice. You need to think about getting back into education. You need to carve a career for yourself."

"There'll be plenty of time for that when they're both older," she replied. She could hear Emma walking down the passageway from the kitchen and although she wanted to continue the conversation, said no more.

*

They celebrated the festive season as well as they could under the circumstances. They had to for the sake of the children. Jake and Lucy helped Holly decorate the new Christmas tree, a fibre optic one, which entranced Lucy, who spent long periods of time just watching it change colour. Emma put up last year's decorations and baked special goodies for the children.

Father Christmas must have felt that both Jake and Lucy had been extra specially good. He brought a large sack full of toys for each of them. It was the first time Luciano, Emma and Holly had seen their eyes shine since the tragedy.

Emma waited until Jake was back at school before her departure. Holly had by then settled in and had successfully managed to get a routine going as far as the children were concerned. As long as she had Bathsheba with her, she felt she could cope with anything.

"What will you do?" asked Emma. "At your age you should be enjoying life, not looking after two small children."

"My place is here with my nephew and niece. I'm the only real family they have now that you're going back to Malta and Luciano isn't living here. I'll wait and find out what Luciano plans to do. There was some talk about employing a housekeeper but I'm going to nip that in the bud as soon as I can. The children won't be happy with a stranger. They're better off with me."

"You're a good girl," Emma replied. "Jake and Lucy are lucky to have you. If ever you feel that you need a break, let me know and I'll come and look after them."

"What about the business?"

"I'll arrange something."

"You say that Jake and Lucy are lucky to have me. I feel it's the other way round. I'm lucky to have them. Somehow or other I've got to make Luciano change his mind."

*

A couple of weeks after Emma had returned to Malta, Luciano, instead of making tracks as soon as both of the children were in bed and asleep, sat down on the living room sofa.

"I need to talk to you about something which has been bothering me," he told Holly.

She sat down beside him

"We've got a problem," he said. "We have to let James, Kate's ex, know what has happened. He's still sending money."

"I don't think anyone knows where he is," Holly replied. "Everything's done through his solicitor. He's continually globe trotting these days and it's difficult to pin him down. Is it such a good idea, Luciano? He might want the children."

"Even if it isn't a good idea, he still has to know. Regarding the children, it would only be Lucy that he would be interested in."

"Why? Because she's a girl?"

"No. Because he isn't Jake's father."

Holly stared at him, open mouthed.

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"Kate told me as soon as we started seeing each other. She didn't want there to be any secrets between us."

"If James isn't his father, who is?"

"Some Italian bloke named Carlo, apparently. She had a fling with him while she was in Venice a month before the wedding."

"Now I understand. My father suggested that it might be good for her to get away after her chief bridesmaid was killed in an horrific road accident. Maybe she just couldn't help herself and it was her way of coping. Perhaps she didn't love James when she married him."

"That's something we'll never know. It might be best to tell Jake when he's older," Luciano replied. "We'll see how things go."

As he seemed to be in a talkative mood, Holly thought it might be a good time to broach the subject which had been worrying her.

"Are you seriously thinking about getting a housekeeper for the children?" she asked. "I've got them into a really good routine and I'm pretty certain that they feel secure as a result of it. That's important with children. They have to feel secure."

Luciano looked at this smaller, younger and in some ways prettier version of Kate. He sighed.

"You're so young," he whispered. "You should be enjoying life."

"I'll be in no fit state to enjoy life knowing that Jake and Lucy are with a stranger," she replied. "I've become a sort of substitute mother to them. They don't need any more upheaval. By employing a housekeeper, you'll be undoing all the good I've done since we lost Kate."

She looked steadily at him and could see the concern in his eyes. He returned her gaze and sighed again.

"I think Jake and Lucy would be even happier if we were all living together," she continued. "How about putting the house on the market and living somewhere else? It would be a new start for all of us."

"You've got it all worked out, haven't you? " he replied. "You've a very wise head on those shoulders of yours considering you're so young."

He stood up and so did Holly. She looked steadily into his eyes and said what she had been wanting to say for weeks:

"I love you, Luciano. I've always loved you, from the first moment we met. I thought right at the beginning that it was a schoolgirl crush but it's developed into so much more."

Stunned, he returned her gaze.

"Oh, I know you don't love me," she continued, "but I can live with that. It's just that we've both been through so much that I think we can maybe help each other get through this thing they call life. Don't get a housekeeper. Let me help you with the children."

He took both of her hands in his then stooped to kiss her gently on the lips.

"How do you fancy living in Dorset?" he asked.

Holly frowned, looking puzzled.

"Let's have some coffee and I'll explain what I'm talking about."

Holly went away to the kitchen to fill the kettle.

*

"When my father passed away last year, as I was his only child, I inherited the cottage in Dorset where I grew up," Luciano explained. "It's been completely renovated and modernised and I was just about to either put it on the market or rent it out as a holiday home. It would be the perfect solution, Holly, if you want to look after the children. It would be a new start for all of us. What do you think?"

"Well, Bathsheba and I have nowhere else to go so I'm saying 'yes'. But won't we have to sell this house and your apartment first?"

"I'm more or less certain that I can sell my apartment without difficulty. If you're in agreement, I'll get in on the market straight away. As for this house, Kate made a will and I know that she's left everything to the children so it might be a good idea to not sell it at the moment but rent it out while the children are young. The money generated from the rent can be put into a savings account for Jake and Lucy."

"That's a good idea. Kate would have approved of that."

"Yes and when they're older, they might decide that they want to live in it."

"I've never been to Dorset," said Holly. "I've no idea what it's like there."

"It's beautiful, both for its dramatic cliff scenery, coves and bays but also historically. You'll love it and so will the children. There's so much to do there." He put his hand in his pocket and drew out his car keys. "In the meantime, while we're waiting for everything to be sorted out, I'll make enquiries about job vacancies that are likely to come up in the next few months."

### Chapter 37

As the weeks went by, Luciano grew more and more fond of Holly. He admired the way she was coping with running the house and caring for the children. When he arrived home tired, after a quite often harrowing day's work, there would always be a meal waiting for him, which he ate while she bathed Jake and Lucy and prepared them for bed. After he had eaten, he would go upstairs and read them both a bedtime story, after which he would come down again and sit and talk to her.

Then one evening, they watched a DVD of 'Pay it Forward' which they had rented from the local shop and as the film came to an end and Holly had finished reaching for the tissues, over coffee, Luciano suddenly made an announcement.

"Holly, I've spoken to both your mother and mine over the telephone about my feelings for you. I've told them that I love you and want us to marry as soon as possible. That's if you'll have me of course." He looked at her with concern.

"What did my mother say?"

"Much the same as mine actually. That she would give us her blessing as long as we waited until six months had elapsed. There would then have been a suitable period of mourning. So, what do you say? Will you marry me?"

"I think you know the answer to that question."

"Well, say it then."

"Yes, Luciano. I want to be your wife."

*

Holly and Luciano were married, without fuss, by special licence towards the end of May, dragging two unsuspecting passers-by into the registry office to act as witnesses. They then returned home to Jake and Lucy, who seemed pleased.

"We're a proper family now, aren't we?" said Jake.

"Yes," answered Holly. "We are Luciano, Holly, Jake and Lucy McKinnon."

The sale of Luciano's apartment took longer than expected so they continued to live in the house during the daytime and went over to his apartment most evenings where they all slept.

During June, Luciano accepted an offer for the apartment which was only just below the asking price. This threw them all into a frenzied state of activity as possessions were packed up for the impending move. No furniture was being taken as this was being left for people renting the property and costs were kept down as there was no need to employ a removal firm.

"I know a man with a large van who can take us down to Dorset with all the boxes," said Luciano. "So, all we need to do is continue with the packing."

*

A couple of weeks before the move, some information appeared in the local and national newspapers and on television. The body of a child had been found in a shallow grave in woodland. DNA testing had shown that it was indeed the remains of the boy with the scooter, Robbie Kershaw. The grave had been discovered by a woman while walking her dog, just five miles from where Robbie had last been seen. The nightmare for Mr and Mrs Kershaw was over. They could now give their son a decent burial and attempt to get on with their lives while the police began investigating the crime.

*

The move to Dorset was on a fine day during the last week of June, when the chalk downs were covered in a rich mixture of flowers, grasses and an enviable variety of butterflies.

Holly was enchanted by Dove Cottage, built from locally quarried Purbeck stone, with its accompanying cottage gardens which had been spruced up by Mrs Perry's husband, especially for their arrival.

"I hope you'll be pleased with the state of everything," said Mrs Perry. "I've been popping in regularly to make sure everything was ship-shape and to give the place an airing. Your evening meal is in the fridge. It just needs heating up."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs Perry," Luciano replied. "We're all very tired and a good meal is just what we could do with."

For the first few days, they mostly ate out and slept in sleeping bags on the bedroom floors, while they went in search of furniture, carpets and curtains. It only took just over two weeks before the place looked and felt like home. Jake was happy when Luciano said he could have the room which he, himself had slept in when he was a boy. It had such a wonderful view of the bay.

"I'll never get tired of this view, Daddy," he said.

Everyone looked out of the window. It was late evening and lights were flickering on all over the village. The sky began to darken and myriads of stars appeared as if by magic.

"Do you see that especially bright star up there, Lucy?" asked Luciano.

Lucy looked up and nodded.

"Well, that's Mummy's special star," he said. "Whenever you feel sad, you can talk to it. I'm sure Mummy will be listening."

"That's Venus, isn't it?" whispered Holly.

"Yes, that's right. Venus the Goddess of Love. Appropriate, don't you think?"

Holly smiled.

"Come on you two," she said. "Time for bed."

*

In August, Aunt Ginnie came to stay, providing Holly and Luciano with a babysitter for two weeks.

On the Saturday following her arrival, Ginnie took the children over to Kimmeridge Bay so that they could visit part of the Purbeck Marine Wildlife Reserve where unique flora and fauna of the bay are preserved.

Although they were too young to use the marked trail for divers, Jake and Lucy, together with Ginnie would be able to snorkel and enjoy parts of the trail where they could possibly see anemones, sponges, crabs and shellfish as well as fish.

On the same Saturday morning, Luciano and Holly decided to go walking. Armed with flasks and packed lunches, they drove over to Swanage, where they parked the car and walked south to Durlston Country Park. Below the castle, they looked at the Great Globe and picked out the continents and rivers.

"It's made from Portland stone, the other stone quarried in Dorset," said Luciano. "Apparently it weighs forty tons."

"Wow, that's some globe."

They looked at the information below the globe, on the bird life and dolphins occasionally seen off Durlston Head.

"We'll follow the coastal path. It's a magnificent walk," said Luciano. "It goes all they way to Devon of course, but we'll walk just a mile or two."

They reached the Tilly Whim Caves. Then came Anvil Point with its lighthouse. Beyond the lighthouse, on the coastal plain, they were alone with the sea and the gulls.

"What a beautiful day," said Luciano. "A perfect place to have our packed lunches, don't you think?"

They sat down, poured coffee and munched their sandwiches, then lay down and looked up at an almost cloudless, blue sky.

"I'm glad we're up here and alone," said Holly. "I've got some news. I've waited until I was sure. I'm pregnant, Luciano. I went to see the doctor yesterday. I'm three months gone, apparently. The baby's due sometime around the end of January or early February."

He sat bolt upright.

"Are you pleased?" she asked.

"Pleased? Of course I'm pleased. A baby of our own. What wonderful news. Holly , have I ever told you just how much I love you?"

He placed a hand gently on her tummy and kissed her with a new passion. Soon they were making love with the distant sound of waves lashing against the rocks while Kittiwakes flew screeching overhead. Afterwards, they fell asleep in the warmth of the sun.

*

"Do you think we should tell Jake and Lucy about the baby right now?" asked Luciano as they drove home.

"No. We'll wait until my condition becomes more obvious, just to be on the safe side."

They did phone Emma and Isabella though and of course they told Ginnie. Everyone was delighted. The following week, Luciano commenced work at a private clinic.

In November they returned to the north west to visit Kate's grave on the anniversary of her death. Holly, by now seven months into her pregnancy had found out from the scan that she was carrying a son.

"I'm going to tell Mummy about the new baby," said Lucy. She ran over and sat on the grave. They could hear her whispering.

"Come and help me put these flowers in the vase, little one," said Holly, kneeling down beside her.

Jake looked on, stony faced.

"She can't hear you, Lucy. She's just a load of old bones under the soil, not our Mum. You're better off talking to the stars."

Lucy began to cry. Holly gave her a cuddle. They tidied the grave and then left.

"I don't think we'll do this again next year," said Luciano. "It was wrong to come. It's too upsetting for them. Anyway, Jake's right, isn't he? She isn't here. She's in our hearts and minds but she isn't here."

They walked slowly through the cemetery. Jake and Lucy ran ahead.

"Luciano, I've not asked you this before. What do you think happens when we die? Is there anything else do you think?" said Holly.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I'd like to think that there is but I'm not sure. I can remember Kate saying that if there were a Heaven, she hoped it would be a large garden filled with the most beautiful flowers and birds."

"Then all we can do is hope that Heaven is like that and that Kate is there, free as a bird in a healing garden," said Holly.

They walked further on towards the place where they had parked the car.

"Oh, by-the-way," she continued, "I almost forgot. I heard from a publisher today. They're interested in publishing the collection of short stories which I've been working on every evening as soon as Jake and Lucy are asleep."

"That's wonderful news. You clever old thing. How nice to have a writer in the family."

"Kate used to write too, you know. I shall be dedicating the stories to her."

*

Their son was born on the twenty ninth of January, the same day as two famous Aquarians, Lewis Carroll and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. He weighed in at a healthy eight pounds six ounces and was adored by everyone, especially Jake and Lucy who were enchanted with their little cousin.

They named him Andrew Samuel, after Luciano's father and after Sam who had played such a large part in saving Holly's life. Surrounded by friends and family, Andrew was christened on a warm, sunny Sunday, in spring.

Luciano found work at the private clinic more satisfying as everything was so flexible. One morning, a few weeks after the christening, he received a call from one of the partners. He was needed urgently as they felt he was the most suitable psychiatrist to handle a particular case. He rushed out to the car and was about to drive speedily away, when he called out to Holly, who was waving goodbye.

"I've forgotten my briefcase!"

"I'll get it," she replied, realising the urgency of the situation. She hurried indoors and went into his study and saw the briefcase. It was on the floor, by his desk. When she picked it up she was surprised by its weight and wondered what was inside. Unable to contain her curiosity, she opened it and reached to the bottom and uncovered something hidden by a silk scarf. Frowning, she walked out to the car where Luciano was waiting somewhat impatiently.

"Luciano, why do you have a brick at the bottom of your briefcase?" she asked.He looked embarrassed.

"Oh, you've found it," he replied. "It's a long story, Holly. I always carry it with me. It's my lucky brick. I hate being without it."

"You've got to be joking. You're a psychiatrist and you have a brick fetish," she said, incredulously. "Oh, my God."

"Yes, I have. Nobody's perfect," he replied as he drove away. "And, I'd appreciate it if you could keep this to yourself."

*

The baby grew strong and healthy. And although Holly found motherhood fulfilling, there seemed to be something missing from her life . So, at the end of the summer holiday, when Jake was at school once more and Lucy established at a pre-school playgroup, she decided to enrol at the nearby college to get the qualifications which she had been about to get before she ran away from home. The college had a creche where Andrew would be in safe hands while she was there.

With GCSE's and A Levels under her belt, in a few years time, she could embark on further education and do what she had originally planned to do. She would train to become a teacher.

The move to Dorset had proved to be a wise decision. The children were thriving in their new environment. Holly, who had blossomed with motherhood and returned to her studies was content. For the first time in his life, Luciano felt a calmness and serenity he had never before experienced and put it down to the fact that he had returned to his childhood roots.

On a cold and blustery Saturday morning in late October, he decided to walk Bathsheba over the downs. The trek up the hill made him breathless and he paused when he reached the top. He looked out over the sea. There was a ship on the horizon and storm clouds were gathering.

He looked down into the cove. He would never get tired of the view. Looking through his father's binoculars he saw a bird which he did not recognise so took a notebook and pencil out of his pocket and recorded details about it. He would look it up when he got home. Andrew would have known what it was. He thought about the boat trips with him and somehow felt his presence.

"I'm doing all right, Dad," he said. "Life's dealt me some hard knocks but I'm through the worst now. One just has to get on with things, after all you did, didn't you?

In some ways I've been more than blessed. I love my work and I love my family. And most of all, I've come home.

Bathsheba, sitting at his feet looked up wondering who he was talking to. He looked down at her and then at his watch. It was almost time for lunch.

"Come on, old girl," he said. "Let's go back and have something to eat."

THE END

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