for the door.
‘I’ll be back in an hour,’ he promised blandly. ‘Nice to meet you, Mr Taylor.’
And with that, he was gone, and Fliss was left to face her father’s undoubted irritation. The door had scarcely closed behind Matt before he snapped, ‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on between you and that man? Why would he think he had the right to come here at—’ he consulted his wrist-watch before continuing—‘at seven-thirty in the morning? Has he been here all night?’
Fliss’s jaw dropped. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘What’s ridiculous about it? I didn’t hear a car, and you’re hardly dressed to receive visitors.’ His lips pursed with annoyance as he viewed her attire. ‘And couldn’t you buy yourself some nightgowns? What must he think, finding you wearing men’s underpants to sleep in?’
‘They’re boxers,’ Fliss corrected him shortly. ‘And they’re very comfortable, actually.’
‘No doubt.’ Her father sniffed. ‘Well? What’s all this about?’
Fliss expelled an exasperated breath, but before she could answer the door opened again and Amy and Harvey bounded in. ‘Is it true?’ the little girl demanded as Harvey raced wildly about the room. ‘Are we really going out with Quinn? He said we were. He said you’d said we could all go to the beach.’
‘Amy—’
‘I think your mother’s taken leave of her senses,’ retorted her grandfather dauntingly. ‘I never approved of her going to work for that man, but getting you involved as well—’
‘I didn’t get Amy involved,’ protested Fliss quickly, not prepared to be blamed for something that really wasn’t her fault. ‘It was Amy who let Harvey into Matt’s garden.’
‘So it’s “Matt’s” garden, is it?’ Her father was scornful. Then he turned to his granddaughter. ‘Is this true, Amy? Did you let Harvey out?’
Amy hunched her shoulders. ‘I might have done.’
‘Either you did or you didn’t.’ Her grandfather regarded her sternly. ‘You know that was a very naughty thing to do, don’t you? Harvey could have run away, or got knocked down. Anything.’
‘No, he couldn’t,’ muttered Amy sulkily. ‘He was safe enough in the garden at the big house.’
Her grandfather gasped. ‘So, you admit you deliberately released the dog in Mr Quinn’s garden?’
Amy looked mutinous. ‘He didn’t mind.’
‘How do you know that?’ Fliss’s father was angry now. ‘You hardly know the man.’
‘I do, too.’ Amy was defiant. ‘I spent all yesterday morning talking to him.’ She took a breath and then added staunchly, ‘He likes me.’
‘Does he?’ George Taylor turned back to his daughter now. ‘Why wasn’t I told about this?’
Fliss sighed. ‘About what?’
‘About Amy spending the morning with that man,’ stated her father grimly. ‘I thought you told me she was going to play outside, as she used to do when you worked for the colonel—’
‘I didn’t always play outside,’ Amy interrupted him quickly, and although Fliss knew the child was only trying to defend herself, she wasn’t doing herself any favours by reminding her grandfather of that. He had always been jealous of the time Amy spent with Colonel Phillips, and of the affection she had had for the old man. ‘We often used to play games—’
‘Be quiet, Amy.’ Her grandfather had heard enough. ‘Well, Fliss? I’m waiting for an answer.’
‘You’re not talking to Amy now, Dad,’ retorted Fliss, deciding her own grievance with her daughter would have to wait. ‘Amy was helping Mr Quinn unpack some books, that was all. He was glad of her company.’
‘And you left her with this man? With a man you hardly know?’ Her father shook his head. ‘I thought you’d have had more sense!’
Fliss stared at him. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Oh—’ He swung away to lift his coffee mug from the hook and poured himself a cup before saying anything else. Then, aware that she was still watching him, he muttered, ‘I should have thought it was obvious.’
Fliss felt cold. ‘I hope you don’t mean what I think you mean,’ she began, and Amy looked confused.
‘What does Grandad mean?’ she asked innocently, and Fliss realised she couldn’t say anything more in front of her daughter.
‘Your grandfather’s just feeling liverish,’ she said instead, deciding getting dressed would have to wait until after breakfast. ‘Now, I suggest you go and put your clothes on. I’ll get my shower after you’ve finished.’
Amy moved reluctantly towards the door and Fliss was hardly surprised when she paused in the doorway. ‘We are going out, aren’t we, Mummy?’ she asked anxiously. ‘You’re not going to say no because Grandad’s cross?’
Fliss blew out a breath. ‘Just get dressed, Amy,’ she advised the little girl flatly, but Amy was persistent.
‘Are we?’ she pleaded. ‘Please say we are.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ said Fliss, giving her father a reflective look. ‘Now, scoot.’
‘Can I wear my new skirt?’
‘Don’t push your luck,’ Fliss declared drily, and the child had to be content with that.
But after Amy had disappeared upstairs, Fliss turned from taking milk from the refrigerator and said, ‘Why are you being so horrible about this? What have I done to make you think I can’t look after myself and my daughter?’
Her father pulled out a chair at the table and then shook his head. ‘You can ask me that?’
Fliss caught her breath. ‘I was sixteen, Dad.’ She paused. ‘I thought we’d got over that.’
‘We have,’ he muttered, setting his mug on the table and then dropping wearily into his chair. ‘But dammit, Fliss, I’ve told you what I’ve heard about that man.’
‘And what have you heard exactly?’
‘Just what I said—that he’s had some mental problems since he got back from Abuqara.’
‘What kind of mental problems?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her father took a mouthful of his coffee. ‘God knows what state he was in when he got back.’
Fliss sighed. ‘Isn’t this just gossip?’
‘Well, you said yourself he’d left London because he felt he needed space.’
‘So?’
‘So—why
