as she made her way to her table. Even a simple action like that became a performance, executed with the utmost confidence and panache.
And yet, a few minutes earlier, she had seen the mask slip. For a moment Bianca had been caught off balance, and Alix found herself wondering why, that indefinable sense of unease deepening. It was impossible, of course, that anyone who had lived her life as fully, and often as scandalously, revelling in the publicity, as Bianca could really have any kind of secret to conceal. She could have sworn that all Bianca’s cupboards were open for inspection and lacking in skeletons of any kind.
At least I hope so, she thought as she turned away from the window.
Her first thought when she pushed open the back door and entered the kitchen was that her mother looked tired. But that could just be because she had been baking all morning for the local church’s charity cake stall, she told herself.
‘You’ve lost weight,’ she teased as she hugged her mother.
‘And not before time either,’ Margaret said with a grimace. ‘Just let me get this last batch out of the oven and I’ll make us some tea.’
‘That will be lovely.’ Alix settled herself beside the kitchen table and stole a jam tart from the baking tray. ‘No need to hurry. I have all day.’
‘Oh dear!’ Margaret looked at her quickly. ‘I wish you’d telephoned, dear. You see, we’re going out this evening to have a meal with Paul’s parents—to talk over wedding details. Mrs Frensham’s only expecting the three of us. I don’t really see …’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Alix said quickly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of pushing in. I have loads of things to do, as it is—unpacking properly, for starters. And I wouldn’t mind an early night. When is the wedding, or haven’t they decided yet?’
‘I think that’s one of the things we’re going to thrash out tonight. Both sides feel that they’re rather young, but,’ Margaret smiled fondly, ‘I don’t suppose they’ll allow our opinions to carry too much weight. They’re very much in love.’
‘I’m glad for Debbie.’ Alix meant it. Debbie had always been her cherished younger sister. ‘I remember when we were children, she was always playing house. I was the one who was falling out of trees.’
‘No, she never had your love of adventure. I suppose I always hoped that she would find a nice boy and settle down, so I can’t really complain that she has done, even if it’s rather sooner than I expected.’
‘And what about me?’ Alix suddenly wanted to cry. ‘What did you hope for me? Have I fulfilled your expectations, or am I a disappointment?’
She should have been able to ask, but somehow it was impossible, so she helped herself to another jam tart, and began to talk about Rhodes, producing the presents she had brought back for them all, laughing and chattering as if there was no subdued ache in her heart at all. As if everything was fine, and she was the beloved elder daughter who had never been away.
Except of course it wasn’t like that, and never would be again. Alix supposed the invisible barrier which had grown up was of her own making. She had underestimated the depth of her mother’s hurt when she decided to go and work for Bianca. Underestimated it, because she didn’t understand it.
Things might have been better when Debbie came home at teatime, but oddly they weren’t. Debbie’s greeting was perfunctory, and although she thanked Alix for her gift, her heart wasn’t in it.
‘Three weeks on Rhodes.’ Her tone was frankly envious. ‘The most Paul and I can hope for is a few days in Bournemouth, or somewhere.’
Alix glanced at the pretty, discontented face and made up her mind.
‘Would you like a glamorous honeymoon as a wedding present?’ she asked.
‘No, thanks.’ The swiftness of Debbie’s response was almost insulting.
‘Why not?’ Alix enquired.
Debbie shrugged. ‘We’ll manage,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to start my married life on your charity.’
Alix felt as if she had been pierced to the heart, but she managed to say equably, ‘I’m sorry that you see it like that. I really didn’t intend …’
‘It doesn’t matter what you intended,’ Debbie cut across her rudely. ‘We’re quite all right as we are. We don’t need you playing Lady Bountiful.’
‘That’s quite enough, Debbie.’ Margaret, who had been out of the room, had returned in time to hear the last part of the exchange. She went on, ‘You’ll have to excuse her, Alix. She’s rather on edge these days.’
‘Perhaps I’d better go.’ Alix stood up, reaching for her bag. She was desperately afraid that she might burst into tears. Until she had left home, she and Debbie had shared a room, had confided in each other, giggled and occasionally quarrelled. Now they could be strangers.
‘I’ll see you out,’ said Debbie.
‘There’s really no need.’ Alix let a note of sarcasm enter her voice. ‘This is still my home, and I’ve no intention of stealing anything on my way through the hall.’
‘Alix!’ her mother protested, smiling nervously. ‘I’m sure Debbie didn’t mean that.’
Alix gave her a quick kiss, aware of the tightness in her throat. ‘Goodbye, love, and look after yourself. I—I’ll telephone first next time.’
She walked through the hall without looking back, and shut the front door behind her. Then, feeling dazed, she made her way down the path to the gate. She was sure that Debbie was watching her from the front room window, but pride forbade that she should turn and confirm her certainty. It was raining lightly again, and she turned up the collar of her cream trench coat, and pushed her hands into her pockets as she hurried along towards the station.
What a total disaster of a day this had been! The grey skies as she flew in that morning had been an omen.
‘I should have flown right out again,’ she told herself with mordant humour.
Walking along, her head bent, she didn’t see the figure approaching until she found herself in a mini-collision.
She said, ‘I’m so sorry …’ and broke off as a female voice exclaimed delightedly, ‘Alix—Alix Coulter! How marvellous! Don’t you remember me?’
Alix looked into the smiling face of Gemma Allan, an old school friend.
‘Gemma—you’re the last person I expected to see.’
‘I can’t think why. Didn’t your mother tell you that Dave and I had bought the house on the corner? Didn’t she give you my message?’
Alix shook her head bewilderedly. ‘She must have forgotten. And of course I’ve been away—abroad.’
‘That I can see.’ Gemma whistled appreciately. ‘Is that an all-over tan, may one enquire? I’m brown too, of course, but with me it’s rust.’
‘Oh, Gemma!’ To her horror, Alix heard her voice become choky. ‘It’s so great
