know we were going to have you to stay!’
‘Oh, Joanna!’ Tamsyn felt terrible. ‘I—I didn’t know—I didn’t realise.’
‘How could you? So far as you were concerned your father was the villain of the piece. Well, he isn’t, and he never was. But that’s another story.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Tamsyn didn’t know what to say.
‘That’s all right. I just wanted to get things straight between us before your father gets back.’ Joanna straightened and turned back to the stove. ‘Do you like your bacon crisp or not?’
Tamsyn moved to the table, fingering a fork absently. ‘Do you think I could just have toast? I’m not very hungry, actually.’
Joanna clicked her tongue. ‘No, I don’t think you could just have toast,’ she retorted, but there was a faint suggestion of a smile touching the corners of her mouth. ‘And there’s no point in moping about what’s been said. You’re seventeen, Tamsyn, nearly eighteen, in fact. It’s time you grew up. As you said earlier, we’ve got to live together for the next few weeks, so we might as well make the best of it.’
Tamsyn nodded. ‘All right. I’m willing.’
‘Good. Then we understand one another.’ Joanna flexed her back muscles wearily. ‘I shall be glad when these few weeks are over, and I don’t mean because of you. I feel so big and clumsy, particularly now, in comparison to you.’
Tamsyn glanced down self-consciously. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘You’re much smaller than I am. I feel quite tall beside you.’
Joanna smiled. ‘I always wanted to be tall and slim like you. You’re lucky. You’ve inherited your height and build from your father. Do you know his hair used to be that colour once?’
‘You must tell me about him,’ suggested Tamsyn quietly. ‘I—I’d like to hear about his life before he—he married my mother.’
‘Hywel told you I knew him then, of course.’
Tamsyn felt her nerves tingle at the mention of Hywel Benedict’s name. ‘Yes,’ she said, taking a seat at the scrubbed table and resting her chin on her hands, elbows supported on the wooden surface.
Joanna scooped bacon and eggs on to a plate and put it before her. It smelt marvellous and Tamsyn realised she was hungry after all. There was crusty bread to go with it, and yellow butter that melted on the toast that followed.
Joanna joined her at the table, but she had only some toast and Tamsyn commented upon it. ‘I need to lose some weight, actually,’ confided her stepmother with a sigh. ‘We may not have much to offer here, but at least the food is good and wholesome, and I’m afraid I can’t resist hot scones with butter and lots of suety puddings.’
Tamsyn laughed. She was beginning to realise that Joanna was not at all as she had expected her to be, and she blamed herself for presupposing things she really knew nothing about.
‘Hywel Benedict is your cousin, isn’t he?’ she asked Joanna now, unable to resist the question.
‘That’s right.’ Joanna poured more coffee into Tamsyn’s cup.
Tamsyn hesitated. ‘Does he live far from here?’
Joanna looked at her squarely. ‘Not far. Why?’
Tamsyn shrugged with what she hoped was non-chalance. ‘I was curious, that’s all.’
‘You didn’t mind Hywel meeting you, did you? I mean, Lance couldn’t leave the practice without anyone to cover for him, and I was in no fit state to drive nearly two hundred miles.’
‘No. No, of course not.’ Tamsyn shook her head. ‘I guess I did at first, but then …’ She pushed her empty plate aside. ‘That was delicious. Thank you.’
‘I like cooking,’ said Joanna simply. ‘And I like to watch people enjoy their food.’
Tamsyn glanced round. ‘What can I do to help you?’
‘Do you want to help?’
‘Yes. I don’t intend to spend my days loafing around. That’s not my scene.’ Tamsyn rose from her seat and carried her dirty plates across to the sink. ‘Shall I start with these?’
Joanna rested against the table, half turned towards her. ‘If you like.’
Tamsyn nodded and filled the bowl with hot soapy water. Outside the kitchen windows she could see a vegetable garden and beyond, a path leading down through wild rose and gorse bushes to a stream, the stream which she had heard earlier. There were some hens picking about behind the back door and several outbuildings which she supposed were used to house livestock. Plunging her hands into the hot water, looking out on that rural scene, she felt a sudden sense of peace and relaxation and she sighed. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Her father returned as Tamsyn and Joanna were making the beds. He came upstairs to find them and looked in surprise at the two of them, folding sheets beneath the mattress. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, his gaze going from one to the other of them, and Tamsyn smiled.
‘Joanna’s been telling me what a terror you were when you were a teenager,’ she replied, and saw her father’s gaze go swiftly to his wife’s.
‘That’s right,’ said Joanna calmly. ‘There’s no better way of getting to know someone than by working together, don’t you agree?’
Lance looked bewildered. ‘If you say so.’ He bit his lip. ‘Well, one of you come and make me some coffee. I’m sorely in need of a stimulant. Mrs. Evans has been at her most trying.’
‘The woman with the seizure?’ asked Tamsyn.
‘Seizure!’ muttered her father grimly. ‘It was no seizure. Just the result of overeating, that’s all.’
Joanna chuckled and then she said: ‘You go with your father, Tamsyn. You know where everything is now. You make him some coffee while I finish off here and then I’ll join you.’
Tamsyn hesitated. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t like to make the coffee?’
‘Quite sure,’ answered Joanna, straightening her back with a firm hand.
Downstairs, Lance faced his daughter rather doubtfully, and Tamsyn considered for a moment, and then said: ‘It’s going to be all right, Daddy.’
Her father stared at her anxiously. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean my being here—Joanna and me! It’s going to be all right. We—we understand one another now.’ She sighed. ‘And I’m sorry I was so anti-social last night.’
Lance twisted his lips. ‘It was understandable, I suppose.’
‘You mean—because Joanna’s pregnant?’
‘Yes.’ Her father turned away. ‘I realise it’s hard for you to—–’
‘Oh, please, Daddy!’
