devoted slave once.’
‘I was a child, fooled by his daring. I didn’t know what he was really like,’ Tanya replied stiffly.
‘Did anyone? All those weeping maidens at our door only saw the brooding Heathcliff figure, galloping across the moors. None of them knew how difficult he was at home.’
‘Why are we talking about him again?’ complained Tanya.
‘You always do,’ answered Mariann gently.
She flushed. ‘Nonsense! He doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned.’ But, she thought, it was sad that their family wasn’t complete. If only…
‘OK. Focus on the fairy-tale, hon. Give my love to baby brother John and his bride-to-be and start swigging the bubbly without me. You deserve some fun for a change.’
‘A week’s holiday!’ gloated Tanya. It seemed like an eternity. ‘After John’s wedding I’m going to spend it sitting in cafés eating pastries and——’
‘Simpering at handsome gypsy violinists!’
‘No, charming John’s boss,’ corrected Tanya. ‘I have to take a break from the violins and sticky buns and get that riding school business! But I mean to make the most of the trip and explore Hungary too. Oh…the queue’s moving again. Bye. See you at the castle later on.’
Mariann leaned over the barrier and kissed Tanya affectionately. Two sisters, so different in temperament, so similar in repose with their distinctive high Hungarian cheekbones and mass of dark chestnut hair.
‘Oh, boy, do these Hungarians know what’s coming? Wait till I’ve picked up Sue and they’ve got three Evans sisters to contend with!’ Mariann did a wiggle that caused a few male eyes to pop. ‘There’ll be you, tearing at their heartstrings with your dreamy looks——’
‘Hardly, with you and Sue around!’ laughed Tanya. ‘Just cast me as the Ugly Sister——’
Mariann’s squawk brought a score of eyes to rest on the blushing Tanya. ‘You? Take a good look in the mirror, hon, and see who’s “the fairest of them all”,’ she said fondly. ‘When Sue and I turn up, I expect some handsome Hungarian will have whisked you off on his white horse! Bye. Have a good trip!’
Tanya’s earlier sense of foreboding receded in the wake of her sister’s daunting cheerfulness. Sticking to her promise to herself, she firmly put aside her worries. István and Lisa’s old love-affair must be dead and buried, she reasoned, or Lisa wouldn’t have agreed to marry John. And so she turned her thoughts to the wedding, pushing back the nagging feeling that István might appear and ruin everyone’s happiness again.
When the plane approached the outskirts of Budapest it flew low over towering concrete apartment blocks-relics, perhaps, of the old Communist regime. Their forbidding exteriors made her think of István and how cold, ruthless and unbending he could be. Her brow furrowed. Mariann was right—she was obsessed with his memory.
Her hands became clammy. Maybe she was right to be apprehensive. After all, István had gone to Hungary when he’d vanished four years ago. He could have seen some announcement about the wedding. And he’d been forced to leave Lisa…
With her stomach churning, she walked gracefully through Customs, concealing only what was going on in her head: István; was he here? Two pink stains flushed her prominent, Slavonic cheekbones and her pace became brisker, almost as though the prospect of seeing him was filling her with a hot energy. People were lined up at the barrier, waving, crying, laughing…but not István.
‘Thank heavens!’ she muttered, then frowned at the swamping sense of loss that followed the realisation. No dark, cynical eyes on her. No hard, male mouth curled in brotherly contempt. No figure so compelling and yet completely self-contained that he made her feel nervous and awkward in comparison.
‘Tanya!’ came a familiar yell of delight.
‘John! John!’ she cried in relief. ‘Wonderful to see you!’ She embraced her fair-haired brother and her heartbeat returned to near-normal instead of galloping like a frightened colt.
‘Dear Tan! Welcome to Hungary! Have we got a party this afternoon!’ John enthused.
Tanya’s sweet smile brought a radiant sheen to her face. ‘A party! What fun!’
‘How’s Dad?’ asked John, taking charge of her luggage.
‘Much better in himself, though his arthritis is worse. He sends his love and his blessing,’ she answered softly.
‘Are you sure you can cope?’
‘Of course!’ she reassured him. Their father had been like a lost soul when their mother had died four years ago. It was as though the light had gone out of his life too and Tanya both envied and feared a love like that.
Taking early retirement on health grounds, he’d turned to her for comfort and companionship—perhaps, she was aware, as a substitute in some way for her mother. Tanya’s face grew tender. All her life she’d longed to make a stronger bond with her father and it was some comfort to her too, because her own grief was too much to bear. She needed someone to care for, a purpose in life beyond simply existing. Her mother’s death had occurred only three months after István had vanished and the double blow had numbed her completely.
At a family conference, she had quietly convinced her sisters that it made sense for them to continue their careers in London since she was able to work happily from home. It was she who’d persuaded John to follow Lisa to Budapest and given him financial help, explaining to her father that he’d be cruel to stand in his adored son’s way.
John gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I’ll give Dad a ring later. Skates on, Tan, no time to waste; it’s a fair drive…Something wrong?’ he asked, when she hesitated.
‘I—I half wondered——’ No István. She had expected him there. Something fluttered in her stomach. Disappointment, definitely. That was strange. ‘It’s daft, but I had this ghastly idea that István would pop up like Dracula from his grave and hover about, grinding his teeth!’ She giggled, seeing how silly that was.
John’s homely face went pale. ‘Let him try,’ he muttered grimly. ‘I’d take a sledge-hammer to his head and ram him back into the hole he crawled from! Bastard!’
‘John! He is our brother,’ she remonstrated gently, hurrying along beside him. John hated István. If he ever knew what István had actually done to Lisa, she dreaded to think what might happen.
‘Brother? I wonder,’ growled John. ‘It’s only because Dad’s a vicar and Mum was as decent as the day is long that I’ve never felt suspicious about his parentage.’
Tanya nodded soberly. She also had felt that István was different—as though he’d come from another background altogether. He bore absolutely no resemblance to anyone in their family. ‘Bit of a misfit, wasn’t he?’ she mused. More than a misfit: restless, insular, detached. And rather wild. She smiled ruefully, thinking what a tempting recipe that had been for the girls of Widecombe village!
‘Remember when they called him gippo at school?’ John said.
She winced
