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‘Darling, Adam thought you’d be pleased.’
Conceding that she’d have been euphoric at one time, Kate managed a chuckle. ‘Don’t worry, Mother, I won’t be too rough on the new daddy. How’s the new mummy?’
‘Very well. Mainly because her son lets Gabriel sleep now and then. Which is more than his father did for me!’
Kate laughed. ‘I trust Adam’s shouldering his share of the nappy-changing and so on?’
‘He’s a natural—took to fatherhood like a duck to water. Drive carefully, darling, and give me a ring when you start out.’
Kate stood grinding her teeth for a moment afterwards, furious with Adam for inviting Alasdair to the christening. Alasdair Drummond had been her first love, it was true. And even after all these years his physical presence still had an impact on her hormones. But her brain strongly objected to his assumption that she’d jump at the chance of an evening with him at the snap of his fingers. Alasdair had always been utterly sure of himself, socially and academically, and in that respect he obviously hadn’t changed in the slightest. But she had. Her eyes narrowed to a dangerous gleam. He would find that Kate Dysart was very different these days from the worshipful little student of the past.
‘Miss Dysart?’ called a hesitant voice, and Kate jerked out of her reverie and hurried from the room to find her little guest at the foot of the stairs.
‘Sorry to be so long, Abby, I’ve been chatting to my mother on the phone.’
‘Could I go to the loo, please?’
Kate ushered Abby up to the tiny bathroom hurriedly. ‘Sorry about that,’ she apologised when her guest came downstairs. ‘I’ll have a very quick bath, then I’ll make us some supper.’
‘I’ll get on with some of the reading you’ve given us for half-term, then.’
‘Good girl. I shan’t be long,’ Kate ran upstairs and stripped off her serviceable navy sweater and skirt, wishing she could lie in a hot bath for hours instead of a scant five minutes before starting on her hair. Afterwards, in jeans, sneakers and sweatshirt, Kate draped a towel round her shoulders under her wet hair and went down to join Abby, who gazed at her in astonishment.
‘You look ever so different with your hair down, Miss Dysart!’
Kate smiled. ‘Our secret, OK? Right, then, Abby, I know you’re a whiz at reading, but how’s your cooking?’
‘I help Mummy sometimes.’ A smile transformed the sober little face.
‘Good girl. Do you like pasta?’
‘I love it! Can I grate the cheese?’
Tim Cartwright rang while they were occupied, to report that things were going along satisfactorily enough, but it would be hours before the actual birth. He thanked her fervently, requested a talk with his daughter, and afterwards Abby handed the phone back to Kate with a sigh.
‘The baby won’t be here for a long time yet,’ she said despondently, then brightened. ‘But Daddy said Mummy’s fine and she’s sent me a kiss and told me to thank you for being so kind.’
‘How nice of her, especially when she’s so busy,’ said Kate, eyes twinkling, and gave Abby a wooden spoon to stir the tomato sauce. ‘Have a taste—very carefully—and tell me what you think.’
There was no space for any activity other than cooking in Kate’s kitchen, which meant that supper was eaten from trays on their knees in the sitting room, to Abby’s delight.
‘This is yummy,’ she said, tasting the pasta. ‘Just like Mummy’s.’
Kate smiled, accepting this for the supreme accolade it was. ‘Thank you, Abby. Eat it all, because I’m afraid there’s only fruit or cheese afterwards.’
‘I don’t mind,’ declared Abby, and, with the obvious intention of being a good guest, by way of polite conversation asked if Miss Dysart was going away for the holiday.
Touched, Kate explained that she was going home to Stavely for the week. ‘In time for my new little nephew’s christening,’ she explained. ‘My brother’s baby. He’s six weeks old and I’m his godmother, so I’ll be the one holding him when the vicar splashes water on his forehead.’
‘Gosh,’ said Abby, impressed. ‘I expect he’ll cry.’
‘If so I shall hastily hand him back to his mummy!’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Henry Thomas, after both his grandfathers, but known as Hal, his grandma tells me.’
‘Have you seen him yet?’
‘No. Which is why my brother arranged the christening for half-term, so I could be there.’
Not that she couldn’t have driven home to Friars Wood for a fleeting visit before now. But running home at every possible opportunity was an indulgence Kate had made herself crack down on a long time ago.
After supper Abby helped wash up and clear away, by which time Kate’s mane of dark hair was dry, and curling down her back in glossy profusion, much to Abby’s admiration. As they worked together Kate encouraged her to talk, drawing her out about her life in London before coming to Foychurch, and learned that Abby missed her schoolfriends there, but loved her new home in the country.
‘Miss Dysart,’ said Abby after a pause, her voice so forlorn Kate’s heart was wrung, ‘can I ask you something?’
Kate braced herself. ‘Ask away.’
‘Do you think Mummy will still love me the same when she’s got a new baby?’
‘I can assure you that she will, Abby,’ said Kate, thinking on her feet. ‘I’ve got three sisters and a brother, and my mother loves us all. But in a special way for each of us, because we’re all different people.’ A bit sentimental, she thought wryly, but it was worth it to see the strain fade from the worried little face.
Deciding a dose of mundane television was the best diversion for a while, Kate tuned in to an innocuous game show, and half an hour passed without more heart-searching because Abby, to her great triumph, gave some correct answers to the questions put to the contestants. Before the show ended there was a knock on the door, and Kate opened it to a man with shaggy fair hair, massive shoulders, and a rugged face with laughter lines raying from eyes which looked down at her in blank astonishment.
‘Good evening, Does Miss Dysart live here?’
‘I’m Katharine Dysart—’ But Kate got no further before a small figure hurtled past her and flung itself into the man’s arms.
‘Uncle Jack, Uncle Jack—you came!’
Abby’s uncle swept her up into a bear hug. ‘Of course I came, muggins. Sorry I’m late.’ He smiled at Kate over the fair head burrowing against his shoulder. ‘Jack Spencer. We spoke on the phone.’
‘How do you do? Please come in.’
‘Down you go, sweetheart.’ Abby’s uncle set his burden down, his smile warm for Kate. ‘My mother’s deeply grateful to you, Miss Dysart. She apologises for not coming on with me, but she was feeling rough after the flight, so I dropped her off with my father at Hope House first. My parents send their thanks.’
‘It was no trouble at all,’ Kate assured him. ‘We’ve had a very nice evening, haven’t we, Abby?’
The little girl nodded fervently. ‘I helped make supper, Uncle Jack, and we ate it in here because Miss Dysart doesn’t have a table, and we watched television, and Daddy rang, but the baby still hasn’t come—’
‘Whoa!’ said her uncle, laughing. ‘You’ve obviously had a ball, chatterbox. Now, let’s get you home to bed.’
While Abby made a trip to the bathroom before the ride home, Kate seized the chance of a private word. ‘Mr Spencer, when Abby’s father reports next will you tell him she’s afraid Mummy won’t love her anymore once the new baby comes?’
‘Good God!’ He stared at her, aghast. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll put Tim in the picture the first minute I can.’
‘Thank you.’ Kate glanced up with a smile as the little girl came hurtling through the door at the foot of the stairs. ‘Steady on, there.’
Abby smiled shyly at Kate. ‘Thank you very much for having me, Miss Dysart.’
‘It was a pleasure, Abby. See you next week when we get back to school.’
Once Jack Spencer had settled his niece in the Jeep he turned to Kate. ‘My thanks again, Miss Dysart. My mother’s been in a state all the way down the motorway, anxious about both her girls. Not,’ he added, ‘that it was necessary with Abby. She obviously had a great time here with you.’
‘As much as she could do in the circumstances.’ Kate smiled at him. ‘I wonder if I could ask a favour?’
‘Anything at all.’
‘Will you let me know when the baby arrives?’
He grinned. ‘Right—though you won’t thank me for waking you up in the small hours. I’ll ring in the morning. Always supposing the new arrival’s made it by that time.’
‘Heavens, I hope so,’ said Kate with feeling. ‘For everyone’s sake.’
He eyed her curiously. ‘You’re very young to be a teacher, Miss Dysart. Is this your first year in the job?’
She chuckled. ‘No, indeed. Not by a long way.’
‘Then you must be older than you look.’ He cast a glance at the small face pressed to a window, watching them. ‘Time to go. Goodnight. And thank you again.’
Kate went back in the house in a thoughtful mood. Abby’s ‘Uncle Jack’ might not fit her preconceived idea of him exactly; he was older by far for a start. But he looked capable of carrying hods and laying bricks with the best of them.
The phone rang yet again later, when Kate was getting ready for bed, and she snatched it up eagerly. ‘Oh—it’s you, Alasdair.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ he said wryly. ‘You were obviously expecting someone else.’
‘I was.’
‘Has your little visitor gone now?’
‘Collected by her uncle an hour ago. I was just on my way to bed.’
‘Already?’
‘I had a busy day, as we teachers do, followed by an evening trying to entertain a little girl desperately anxious about her mother.’ She made no attempt to smother a yawn.
‘I’m obviously keeping you, so I’ll make it brief. What should I buy young Dysart for a christening present?’
‘You don’t have to buy anything. I’m sure Adam doesn’t expect it.’
‘You’re to be godmother, he tells me. So what have you bought?’
‘I’ve asked Adam to keep his eye out for a claret jug.’ Kate waited, sure that Alasdair had quite different reasons for the phone call.
‘It struck me afterwards,’ he went on, ‘that I could have doubled back to see you later this evening when you were free.’
Did it really? ‘It wouldn’t have been convenient, Alasdair. Besides,’ she added frostily, ‘I’m told I’ll be seeing you on Sunday anyway.’
‘Ah. You don’t approve.’ The deep voice, with it’s hint of Edinburgh accent, was timber-dry.
‘It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘But if you don’t want me there, Kate—’
‘Why on earth shouldn’t I? We can have a nice chat about old times,’ she said sweetly.
‘I’d hoped to do that tonight.’ He paused. ‘I’m back in the UK for good, by the way. Promotion.’
Kate digested this in silence for a moment, then shrugged, unseen. Whether Alasdair lived in Britain, America, or on the moon, made no difference to her any more.
‘Congratulations,’ she said eventually. ‘Discovered a new wonder drug?’
‘Something like that. I’ll fill you in when we meet.’
‘Alasdair, I should have asked this sooner. Whose funeral was it?’
‘My grandmother’s.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you. I’ll miss her.’ He paused. ‘Kate, can we meet tomorrow?’
‘No can do. I’m driving home after lunch. Goodnight, Alasdair, I’ll see you on Sunday—’
‘Don’t ring off,’ he said, in a tone which put her on her guard. ‘If I wait until Sunday I probably won’t get you alone. And after seeing you again, Kate I’m more determined than ever to solve the mystery.’
‘What mystery?’ Though she knew well enough.
‘Oh, come on—you know what I’m getting at. You were the most brilliant physics student of your year at Cambridge, Katherine Dysart. What in hell happened to make you waste your talents on a village school in the back of beyond?’
CHAPTER TWO
KATE held on to her temper with difficulty. ‘Look, Alasdair, we went through this last time we met, and the answer’s still the same. I don’t consider it a waste. I’m a good teacher, and I get damned good results with my pupils. Nor,’ she added fiercely, ‘do I look on Foychurch as the back of beyond. It’s a friendly, thriving village community. Which suits me down to the ground. I’m a country girl born and bred, remember?’
‘I do remember. But that doesn’t answer my question, Kate. It was common knowledge that your tutor thought he had another Madame Curie in the making,’ Alasdair reminded her.
‘Then he was sadly mistaken,’ she snapped. ‘And now we’ve cleared that up, I’ll say goodnight.’
‘Kate, listen—’
‘Alasdair, I don’t want to listen. I’m tired. Goodnight.’
Kate liked to sleep with the curtains drawn back, and, in bed at last, she stared for a long time at the dense blackness of the country night sky, restless and wakeful after Alasdair Drummond’s probing.
Her older sisters, Leonie and Jess, had early possessed the self-confidence that matched their looks. So had Adam, their brother. But Kate, younger by several years and far less extrovert, had compensated for lack of confidence with a highly developed work ethos, coupled with a brain that had won her a place at Trinity College, Cambridge, to read Physics.
And there she had met Alasdair Drummond, a veteran of four years at Edinburgh University, and a year at Harvard, and, by the time she’d met him, engaged in research at Trinity. To her incredulous delight, after running into her on her first day Alasdair had taken Kate under his wing, a process which had boosted both her self-confidence and her appearance so rapidly she’d soon been besieged by so many of her male peers she’d been dumbfounded by all the attention. And hadn’t cared a bit for any of it, because she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Alasdair Drummond the moment they’d met.
