Читать книгу Marrying A Millionaire - Laura Martin, Laura Martin - Страница 7

‘CAN I have some sweets?’

‘You’ve only just cleaned your teeth.’

‘Don’t care! I want sweets!’

‘What about if we feed the ducks?’ Cathy bent down beside her son and pointed to the glimmer of water on the other side of the green. ‘There’s a pond over there, and I bet you there’ll be some ducks. Look!’ She held up a plastic bag. ‘I’ve brought the crusts from breakfast.’

‘Don’t want to feed the stupid ducks! I don’t like ducks! They’re just boring, and all they do is quack. I want some sweets!’

‘Robbie, please!’ Cathy frowned, adjusting the bobble hat on her son’s head. ‘Don’t be like this. Look, it’s a beautiful day. Have you ever seen so many daffodils? The sun’s shining, the birds are singing, and there’s a horse further up the green. Shall we go and look at that?’

‘No!’

Cathy stood up. She knew from bitter experience that there was little she could do when her son was in this sort of mood. He was tired, miserable and upset. She so much wanted to show Robbie everything, to share her enthusiasm for the green fields and wide open spaces, and the fresh, pure air, but if he wasn’t interested then there was precious little she could do about it.

She glanced at him now, stomping along beside her, not wanting to look about or hold her hand, not wanting to do anything. Too much to expect, she supposed. It was all too new and too strange.

‘What about if we spend some time feeding the ducks, then I buy you some sweets?’ Cathy suggested, after a moment. ‘What about that?’

‘OK.’ He sounded grudging.

Cathy smiled down at his pouting face. ‘Don’t worry, Robbie, you will like it here eventually; I promise you,’ she told him. ‘It’s just going to take a bit of getting used to, that’s all…’

Feeding the ducks was not the picture-book success Cathy had hoped it was going to be. Robbie accepted the bag of bread she offered him, tipped the contents into the pond, then turned to her and demanded to be taken to the sweet shop.

She almost made a point of denying him his treat—if they had still been at their old home she would have done—but as it was she didn’t want the day to go from bad to worse, and deep down she was afraid that Robbie was suffering and that it was all her fault.

The small shop was crammed full with every kind of provision. Cathy bought a few items for lunch, paid the amount due and handed Robbie a packet of jelly babies as promised.

‘Are you interested in a raffle ticket, my dear?’ The woman serving behind the counter smiled encouragingly. ‘All for a good cause, and you could end up winning tickets to the Spring Ball into the bargain.’

‘Oh…’ Cathy smiled and quickly scanned the poster the lady was pointing to, which advertised a grand ball and a country fair to be held over the same weekend. ‘I’m not sure…’ She glanced into her purse. ‘How much are they?’

‘Three pounds each—which sounds a lot,’ the woman added hurriedly, noting Cathy’s expression, ‘but if you win, it really is a spectacular night out. A real posh setting, with a quartet and a jazz band and some lovely food. It’s held up at the manor house—such a lovely place.’ The woman retrieved a book of raffle tickets from a shelf behind the counter.

‘There are only a few tickets left. New to the village, aren’t you?’ Cathy nodded, conscious of Robbie pulling furiously on her arm. ‘Well, it really would be a great way to meet all your neighbours—practically everyone from the village goes.’ She placed the raffle tickets conspicuously on the counter between them. ‘There aren’t any tickets for the ball left to buy. So this really is the only way you’ll manage to get there.’

‘I’ll have one.’ Cathy delved into her purse for the money. After all, she reasoned, three pounds wasn’t that much money—not these days—and buying a raffle ticket would sort of mark her entrance into the village. Besides, with Robbie threatening to play up she was more than anxious to be out of the shop.

‘That’s lovely!’ The woman, pleased with her sale, took Cathy’s money from her and wrote down her details on the ticket stub. ‘They always let me have a few pairs of tickets up at the house. I do a bit for the local old people; the proceeds from this will go towards their summer outing. Look after this raffle ticket, now!’ she called, as Cathy opened the door and a stream of sunshine flooded into the rather gloomy interior. ‘We’ll need that for proof of purchase if you win.’

Fat chance of that! Cathy thought as she left the shop. When have I ever won anything in my life before?

‘Cathy? Cathy Taylor, is that you?’ Cathy turned around, surprised that someone should be calling her by name. A young woman, about her own age, was walking towards her. ‘It is you! Goodness gracious! Well, you are the last person I expected to see here!’ The neat coral mouth curved into an attractive smile. ‘You’re looking well!’

‘Am I?’ Cathy smiled too, stalling for time.

‘Now, be honest, you haven’t a clue who I am, have you?’ The young woman laughed gaily. ‘I can see it in your expression!’

‘Well, no…’ Cathy smiled hesitantly. She glanced at the glamorous apparition before her, scanning her memory for possibilities.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not offended. In fact I think it would be worse if you did recognise me—I used to look dreadful at school. Fat with glasses and my hair in a frightful mess!’

The picture began to be a bit clearer. Cathy focused on the beautifully made-up face more closely. ‘Sandra?’ she queried. ‘Sandra Beale? We used to sit together in Maths.’

‘You’ve got it! So, how are you after all these years?’

‘Oh, I’m fine.’ Cathy managed a weak smile. She felt rather overwhelmed. It was difficult to take in that this gorgeous-looking woman was the same quiet, frumpy girl that no one had bothered much with at school.

‘I know what you’re thinking.’ Even white teeth flashed becomingly in the sunlight. ‘Such a metamorphosis, isn’t it?’ Sandra spread her arms wide, showing off herself to full effect. She was dressed elegantly in shades of cream and brown. Cathy’s gaze rested appreciatively on fitted jodphurs and a beautifully soft roll-neck pullover, worn beneath a chunky brown corduroy jacket. On her feet were a pair of supple, knee-length leather boots.

‘What happened?’ Cathy asked, trying not to imagine the sort of mess she must look in comparison. She had bathed in four inches of lukewarm water this morning, thrown on a pair of clean, but rather worn denims, and grabbed the nearest jumper to hand from the large cardboard box that was part of her wardrobe. It happened to be a dazzling assortment of multicoloured stripes and extremely large. Cathy pushed the sleeves up over her hands. With a purple woollen hat jammed on her bubbly red hair, she felt like a clown in comparison to Sandra’s tastefully clad figure.

‘Oh, I decided I was sick of being Little Miss Nobody. Amazing what you can do with a bottle of bleach, contact lenses, make-up and a few well-chosen clothes, isn’t it?’

‘You look…’ Cathy shook her head in admiration. ‘Stunning.’

‘Thanks!’ Sandra looked suitably pleased. ‘So what are you doing here? Visiting?’

‘Er…no. No, actually, I’ve…well, we’ve just moved in.’

‘Really?’ Sandra didn’t bother to hide her surprise. ‘Where?’

‘Stanway Cottage. It’s just past the last turning to the green, next to the tree which looks as if its about to fall down.’

‘You don’t mean old Mrs Payne’s place?’

‘Yes.’ Cathy tilted her chin slightly. There was a distinct note of incredulity in Sandra’s tone.

‘Good gracious. Have you bought it?’

‘No. I just rent.’

‘Oh, I see. She’s in a home now, isn’t she? I suppose her family are just biding their time.’

Cathy nodded. ‘Something like that.’

‘You said we,’ Sandra commented purposefully. ‘Are you married?’

‘Yes—umm, I mean, no. No, I’m not married, but I’m with someone.’ Cathy turned towards Robbie, who was engrossed in biting the heads off all the red jelly babies. ‘This is my son. Robbie…’ Cathy touched him on the shoulder. ‘Say hello to Sandra, Robbie. We used to go to school together.’

‘Hello.’ He looked up briefly, gave a formidable scowl, and then focused his concentration back on his packet of sweets.

‘He’s not usually as antisocial as this,’ Cathy explained. ‘But he’s a bit tired. We only moved in last night.’

‘Oh, he’s adorable!’ Sandra’s smile was bright—maybe just a little too bright, Cathy thought as she glanced at her fixed expression. ‘How old is he?’

‘Five. He’ll be six in a few weeks’ time.’

There was a slight hesitation. ‘So…it’s just the two of you, is it?’

Cathy nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. What about you?’ she asked swiftly. ‘Do you live around here?’

‘Yes. Someone I used to…er…know died and left me his little place. He was a friend of the family.’

‘Lucky you.’ Cathy smiled. ‘I have no connections here whatsoever. I know it’s only a few miles out of town, but it might just as well be on the other side of the world. I remember visiting once on a school field trip, and then when I saw the advert in the local paper—’ Cathy stopped babbling. It was clear she no longer had Sandra’s full attention anyway.

‘I want to go!’ Robbie sounded bored.

‘Yes, in a minute, sweetheart.’ Cathy turned and followed Sandra’s gaze, curious to know what it was that had her so completely transfixed.

She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the green and the trees and the narrow path which wound its way to the village store. There was an old lady on a bike with an empty shopping bag hooked over the handlebars, a young girl skipping alongside a mother with a pushchair, and a man walking alone. Actually, something about him looked vaguely familiar. Cathy looked more closely and her heart skipped a sudden, unexpected beat.

‘I want to go!’ Robbie had finished his sweets and was tugging impatiently on Cathy’s hand. ‘Stop talking!’

‘Robbie!’ Cathy frowned down at her son. ‘Don’t be so rude.’

‘I want to go!’ He pulled free from Cathy’s grasp.

‘Perhaps you’d like to call by some time,’ she suggested, but Sandra wasn’t listening. Cathy looked across and saw that the object of her desire was rapidly approaching. ‘Well, I must be getting back,’ she announced after a moment. ‘Come on, Robbie, let’s go and see that horse—Robbie?’

Cathy spun around wildly. She couldn’t see him. She scanned the area in front of the village store, the green, the duck pond where they had fed the ducks…

‘Oh no!’ Cathy dropped her bag of shopping and broke into a run. ‘Robbie!’ she cried. ‘Don’t go any closer! Robbie!’

He was at the water’s edge, stepping off the path and treading carefully down the side of the bank. There had been a lot of rain last night, so it would be very slippery. Cathy ran towards him as fast as she could, wondering how he had got away from her so quickly.

There was a cry, and she watched as he fell, sliding down the bank with a whoosh and ending up in the water. Cathy ran faster, aware out of the corner of her eye of other movement from the far side of the green.

He was crying when she got to him. He had managed to get to his feet, but he was standing in about six inches of water and looking very miserable and frightened. ‘Robbie!’ Cathy held out her hand and tried to sound calm, despite her thudding heart. ‘Come on. Take my hand.’

‘I can’t!’

‘I’m not cross with you.’ She very carefully placed her feet at the edge of the water. ‘Come on, sweetheart.’ He was sinking. Cathy stared in horror as the top of his wellington boots began to let in water. ‘Robbie, stay still!’ she instructed. ‘I’m coming to get you!’

Cathy stepped in. The water was cold and sludgy, but she didn’t care. She stretched forward and lifted Robbie out of the pond. It was a struggle, and for one awful moment, she thought she was going to fall, but after a distinctly wobbly moment she managed it.

‘Sandra, will you take him from me? I think I’m stuck now.’ Cathy held Robbie out towards Sandra, who was standing at the edge of the bank. ‘Sandra?’ she repeated, feeling the ache in her muscles as she struggled to hold Robbie clear of the water and keep herself in an upright position.

‘I don’t think I can reach.’ Sandra made a tiny movement and gingerly ventured near to the water. ‘My boots…’ she murmured. ‘They’re brand-new. Can’t you come a bit closer?’

‘No!’ Cathy inhaled a breath. ‘For goodness’ sake—!’

‘It’s OK. I’ll take him from you.’

Cathy glanced to her right and saw the man from the previous evening. Oblivious of the fact that his boots were ankle-deep in mud, he took Robbie from her aching grasp.

‘Oh, thank you!’ Cathy had never felt so relieved to see someone take her son from her. Her arms were aching madly, and, as she had suspected, she was now stuck fast.

‘Wait a moment and I’ll come back for you.’ The man set a tearful Robbie down on the path and ruffled his hair. ‘Don’t cry,’ he told him gently. ‘You’re out now.’

‘But what about Mummy—?’

Cathy frowned as Robbie began to cry in earnest. ‘I’m all right, darling!’ she called. ‘Just a bit stuck, that’s all.’ She tried to look cheerful, wondering at the same time how in the world they had managed to get themselves in such a pickle.

‘Can you move at all?’

Cathy struggled to lift a leg. ‘No,’ she replied flatly. A crowd had begun to gather now. Cathy had never felt more ridiculous in the whole of her life. She looked across at Robbie and managed a cheerful smile, which she hoped masked some of the embarrassment she was feeling.

‘Don’t cry, champ!’ The man crouched down in front of Robbie, who was becoming more and more upset. ‘Mummy will be out in a flash.’

‘You’re going to ruin your clothes,’ Cathy warned, feeling incredibly foolish as her rescuer began wading out towards her.

‘They’ll wash,’ he responded, with a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. Now take my hand…’

He had a long reach, and a sureness of foot that Cathy wished she possessed. She placed her hand in his, felt the strength of his fingers as they closed around hers and in a moment she was free and being hauled away from the muddy water.

He really was akin to a knight in shining armour, Cathy thought afterwards, when she and Robbie were safely standing on dry land again. Twice now he had come to her aid…

‘OK now?’

He had the most glorious smile. Cathy inhaled a ragged breath and nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you. Thank you very much,’ she repeated. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without you. I’m so sorry we’ve put you to this much trouble. What with getting so wet last night and now this…’ She glanced down at his sodden boots and mud-splattered denims. ‘You have ruined your clothes,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so sorry—’

‘There really is no need to keep apologising. Think nothing of it. I’m glad I was around to be of assistance.’ Cathy looked into his face and felt a sharp, delicious pang as his eyes sparkled good-humouredly. ‘It’s certainly livened up this Saturday morning, and one thing is for sure: you won’t forget your first morning in Langforde.’

Cathy grew warm beneath her striped clown jumper. He was so handsome: dark, dark eyes, long spiky lashes, an angular jaw, and a mouth that revealed so much good humour it made her want to smile just looking at him.

He was dressed perfectly too. Definitely an outdoor type, Cathy thought: rugged and strong-looking, clad in the denims and a worn leather jacket with a plaid scarf wrapped casually around his neck.

‘Do you two know each other?’ Sandra, who had been looking disgruntled by the whole episode, piped up suddenly.

‘Yes. Well, sort of…’ Cathy smiled brightly, conscious of the flush of heat still rising from her neck.

‘I helped Cathy and her friend move a few things into her cottage.’

‘Oh! I see.’ There was a pause whilst Sandra assimilated this information.

‘Well, Robbie and I had better be getting back!’ Cathy announced. ‘Oh!’ She glanced over towards the village shop. ‘My shopping.’

‘I’ll get that for you.’ Sandra, clearly feeling the need to show she wasn’t totally useless, hurried over towards Cathy’s things.

‘Well!’ Cathy looked up into wonderful dark eyes and struggled to think of something vaguely sensible to say. ‘Robbie seems none the worse for his adventure!’ She looked down at her son, who had stopped crying and was now standing in his muddy socks, tipping the water out of his wellington boots. ‘I don’t know your name,’ she added suddenly. ‘I’m Cathy,’ she said hurriedly, conscious that she had spoken without thinking, ‘and this is Robbie.’

‘Daniel.’ His gaze was steady and direct. He held out his hand and smiled. ‘Very pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ Cathy shook his outstretched hand. His grip was firm and reassuring, and managed to do strange things to her insides. His voice, she thought. That was another thing which just made her want to melt. She glanced across at Sandra and saw that she was approaching with her shopping. ‘She’s very attractive, isn’t she?’

He looked briefly. ‘Yes. Very.’

Why had she said that? Talk about emphasising the differences between them! Cathy speculated on her own ragged appearance and cursed silently. Was she mad?

‘Thanks!’ Cathy took the shopping from Sandra and checked inside the bags to make sure her purse was still there. It had all the money she possessed in the world, which wasn’t much, but if she lost that…The words ‘destitute’ and ‘disaster’ sprang to mind.

‘I’ll walk back with you.’

‘Oh, surely there’s no need for that!’ Sandra’s voice sounded a little strained. ‘I mean,’ she added, glancing apologetically in Daniel’s direction, ‘I could give you both a lift in my car.’

‘That’s very nice of you.’ Cathy smiled gratefully. ‘But we’re very grubby. I wouldn’t want to ruin the interior, and besides, you’d have to go and get it and…’ She shook her head decisively.

‘Sandra doesn’t live too far from the shop,’ Daniel explained. ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be that much trouble.’

‘Well, actually…’ Sandra looked a little anxious now, presumably at the prospect of her car being used as a taxi for two not very clean individuals. ‘I am just about to go out.’

‘That’s settled, then!’ Cathy didn’t want to accept help from anyone who wasn’t happy about giving it. ‘We’ll walk. Robbie and I will be perfectly all right. It’s just a little water and mud.’ Cathy glanced down at her legs. ‘Well, perhaps a lot of water and mud,’ she added lightly. ‘Either way, it’s not going to harm us to walk home.’

‘In that case you will have me as a companion.’

Cathy looked into Daniel’s face and recognised the expression of someone who could be as stubborn and determined as she was. He took the bags of shopping from her grasp. ‘Maybe Robbie would like a shoulder-ride? His feet might get quite sore in those boots.’

‘Yes! Yes!’ Robbie brightened up immediately. ‘Can I, Mummy? Please?’ He wrapped his arms around her legs. ‘I’m sorry I went in the pond. Can I have a ride up high?’

‘Well…’ Cathy frowned across at Daniel. ‘You’ll get even dirtier.’

‘I think I’m going to need a shower anyway—a bit more mud won’t make much difference.’

The walk back to the cottage felt almost surreal—as far as Cathy was concerned anyway. It was like…She hesitated, not wanting to use such a word, even in the privacy of her own mind. Silly. When had ‘family’ ever meant anything other than Robbie and herself? She glanced up at Daniel, who was in deep conversation with her suddenly very chatty son, and inhaled a steadying breath.

No wonder Sandra was smitten—what girl wouldn’t be? Cathy visualised Sandra’s crestfallen expression as Daniel had announced his intention to walk her and Robbie home and wondered how close Daniel and she were.

They arrived back at the cottage far too quickly. Daniel lowered Robbie gently to his feet and waited whilst Cathy unlocked the front door. ‘You’ve been very kind.’ She took the shopping bags which Daniel held out to her and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’ He couldn’t keep from looking into her face. She was so…not beautiful exactly, but arresting. So different, with her pale, pale face and crazy red hair and the most gorgeous green eyes Daniel had ever seen. He thought frantically for something sensible to say. ‘If you ever need anything else…’ He smiled, conscious of his own inadequacies, which was strange because usually he had no trouble talking to women. No trouble at all…

‘I hope there won’t be any more calamities! Although with Robbie around anything can happen!’ She grinned. ‘He looks so angelic too—don’t you, scamp?’

‘He’s great.’ Daniel gazed at the small boy, who was now on his hands and knees watching intently as a bumble bee buzzed its way in and out of some daffodils which were struggling through the undergrowth near to the front door. ‘Is Robbie starting school on Monday?’

‘Yes.’

There was a pause.

‘Are you alone here?’

‘Alone?’

He saw her frown and realised the stupidity of his remark, but decided to persevere anyway. ‘You have Robbie, of course, but—’

‘It’s not really any of your business, is it?’ She reddened as she spoke, but she looked fierce suddenly, and somehow more vulnerable than ever.

‘I didn’t mean…’ He inhaled a steadying breath. ‘I didn’t mean to pry,’ he finished. He raised his hand in a gesture of apology. ‘Sorry. You’re right. It is none of my business—’

‘No!’ Cathy released a breath as he began to turn away. ‘Please, it’s me who should be apologising. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Thank you…for what you did. I…’ Her voice trailed away. ‘Thank you,’ she repeated anxiously.

‘Well, you two need to get cleaned up.’ He saw at once that she felt awkward, and that it would be better if he departed. ‘I’ll no doubt see you around the village.’

‘Yes…I…expect so.’

She hadn’t said ‘hope’. I hope so. He knew he was being ridiculous. What did it matter?

Daniel smiled briefly, said goodbye to Robbie, then turned away from the dilapidated cottage, conscious that something strange was happening to him.

He thought about her for the rest of the day, picturing snapshots in his mind: the way she had looked, stranded in the mud with her son in her arms, her smile, the vulnerability of her expression on that first evening at the cottage when she had looked so tired and somehow strangely alone. Her expression in that last moment of seeing her, almost as if she had wanted to cry…

He dwelt on the image long into the night. He accepted an invitation from friends and found himself thinking about her between lulls in the conversation. One of the group, a beautiful woman, a friend of a friend whom he saw from time to time, even commented on his lack of attention when they were sitting around the dining table in the expensive restaurant on the green. ‘You look thoughtful,’ she murmured playfully as she sipped her coffee. ‘Something on your mind?’

‘Not something, someone!’ Joe, another old friend, who had drunk too much wine and had a house almost opposite on the far side of the green, grinned inanely. ‘I saw you this morning! Playing Sir Galahad to that colourful woman with the little boy!’ He turned to the others assembled around the circular table. ‘Honestly, it was a picture to warm the cockles of your heart! Mind you, Sandra the Sexpot didn’t look too pleased to be left on her own!’

‘You could be in serious trouble, Daniel!’ someone else remarked laughingly. ‘She won’t chase after you any more.’

‘Oh, I think he’s safe enough,’ Joe continued. ‘From what I gather she’s just as determined as ever she was.’

‘Shut up, Joe, and drink some more coffee!’ Daniel’s voice revealed an uncharacteristic edge of anger. He rose to his feet, conscious of the surprised looks from around the table. ‘It’s been a long day. I think I’ll have an early night.’ He glanced down at the woman at his side. ‘Do you want me to take you home?’

He saw her expression and knew she had expected a rather different ending to the evening. ‘No, it’s all right,’ she replied stiffly. ‘It’s too early yet. I’ll get a taxi.’

He took the long way round, avoiding her cottage. The detour would add several minutes to his journey, but what did that matter? The fresh air would help to clear his head anyway.

He wondered what she would be doing on this Saturday night. Cleaning again? He hoped not. He pictured her hands, remembering the short, unvarnished nails and faintly callused palms. There had been no ring. Did that mean…? Not necessarily. Daniel pictured the man with his short jacket and tattooed hands and found that he didn’t want to believe that they were together.

Cathy had just put Robbie to bed when the doorbell rang. It made her start. She stood for a moment in the kitchen, wondering who it might be, half hoping that it was Daniel, so that she could apologise. She had acted so ungratefully. She really didn’t know what had come over her. Cathy ran a shaky hand through her hair and walked towards the front door.

‘Sandra…!’ She told herself she was foolish to feel so disappointed.

‘Hello, Cathy! I was passing and I saw the light…’ Sandra glanced beyond Cathy into the hallway. ‘Are you busy?’

‘Er…no.’ Cathy pictured the mess in every room. ‘Come on in!’ She held the door open wide and Sandra walked past her into the gloomy hall. She looked so out of place, dressed as she was in an immaculate navy blue dress and strappy shoes, that Cathy was moved to warn her not to get too close to the walls. ‘I haven’t had a chance to clean everywhere yet,’ she explained. ‘They’re probably not too bad, but your dress looks very expensive and I wouldn’t want you to ruin it on my account.’

Sandra’s smile as she made her way through into the living room changed to one of undisguised horror. It’s not that bad! Cathy thought irritably. She glanced around the kitchen, which she had scrubbed clean. OK, so it was a bit tatty, but even so…

‘How did you get on, after your little escapade this morning?’ Sandra examined a chair carefully before she sat down. ‘No lasting damage, I hope?’

Cathy smiled. ‘None at all! In fact I think Robbie’s rather pleased with himself—he’s turned it into some kind of adventure. Would you like some tea?’

‘Umm…no, thank you. I can’t stay long; I’m on my way somewhere.’

‘You look very nice,’ Cathy remarked sincerely. ‘I love your dress.’

Sandra glanced down at herself. ‘Thanks.’ She hesitated. ‘So…did Daniel stay long this morning, after he’d walked you and Robbie home?’

Ah! Cathy thought. Now they were at the crux of the matter. She glanced across at Sandra’s deliberately indifferent expression and knew it would be cruel to tell her anything other than the truth. ‘No, he didn’t even come inside.’

‘Oh!’ The relief on Sandra’s face was clear for all to see.

‘He’s very handsome, isn’t he?’ Cathy remarked in conversational tones.

‘Yes.’

‘Is he married?’

‘No.’ Sandra shook her head decisively. ‘I don’t think he’s ever come remotely close.’

‘But he must have a girlfriend.’ Cathy smiled. ‘I would have thought he’d be snapped up straight away.’

‘Not at the moment—at least nothing serious. And that’s the main thing, isn’t it?’ Sandra glanced across at Cathy and added, somewhat pointedly. ‘Of course, like all men, he’s more than happy to have a fling with someone, but when it comes to anything long-term he’s incredibly choosy. He wouldn’t get seriously involved with anyone who didn’t match up to his high standards.’

‘Really?’ Cathy didn’t bother to hide her amusement. ‘You seem very knowledgeable on the subject.’ She decided to get straight to the point. ‘Have you and he…?’

‘No.’ Sandra’s voice was undeniably flat. ‘No,’ she repeated, with a little more vigour. ‘Unfortunately not. However, I live in hope.’

‘He’s extremely good with children,’ Cathy commented, more for something to say than anything else. ‘Robbie took to him straight away. I’ve never seen him so chatty with such a comparative stranger.’

‘Yes…well, he’s very…’ Sandra struggled to come up with the right word. ‘Amenable,’ she said finally. ‘Always willing to help those in need.’

Meaning me, Cathy thought.

Sandra glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Well, this was just a flying visit; I really must be going. I’m meeting someone for dinner—not a patch on the delicious Daniel, of course, but I never like to refuse an invitation, especially if it means a free meal into the bargain!’

Cathy made no comment. She began to see that Sandra’s reincarnation from frumpy schoolgirl to glamorous siren had not been the complete success she had first imagined.

At the front door, Sandra paused briefly. ‘Daniel’s a very kind person,’ she reiterated. ‘And of course there’s the rebel element to consider as well.’

Cathy wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about, but she smiled and said cheerfully, ‘Quite a combination, I should think!’

‘Exactly. But it’s just as well to be aware of these things from the beginning. There really is nothing worse than making a fool of yourself over a man, is there?’

And with that rather ironic comment hanging in the air between them, Sandra walked out into the night.