was more a sense of bewildered abandonment which remained even when she and her mother were reunited in some new poky flat, while Linda, each time more fragile, more diminished, struggled with yet another dead-end job, and promised the brisk women who visited her in the evenings with their files of paperwork, that this time she would make an effort—make it work for Dana’s sake as well as her own.
She paused, fists suddenly clenching at her sides, as she wondered if she, a small child, had been the only one to see it was never going to happen.
And by that time all that filled her heart and mind was Mannion.
‘Our home,’ Linda had told her over and over again, murmuring to her at night in the bed they shared. ‘Our security. Our future. Taken away because I was only the housekeeper’s sister.
‘I thought your grandmother would welcome me when I went to her. Be glad that Jack had a child. I thought we could mourn for him together. Instead she sent us both away. I felt my heart break when I lost your father, but she shattered it all over again.
‘But she won’t beat us, my darling. Mannion was your father’s inheritance, so it belongs to us now and one day we’ll take it back. Say it, sweetheart. Let me hear the words.’
And obediently, eyes closing, voice fogged with sleep Dana would whisper, ‘One day we’ll take it back.’
Not that it helped. Because, all too soon, it would begin again—the soft monotonous sobbing from behind the closed bedroom door, interspersed with the periods where Linda sat by the living room window, unspeaking and unmoving as she stared into space.
When Dana would find herself whisked back to Mannion and Aunt Joss, each time finding herself more secure. Feeling a sense of possession growing as the seeds her mother had planted took root.
Mrs Brownlow, one of the brisk ladies who visited her mother, was now calling at Mannion for regular conferences with Aunt Joss.
Sometimes, she caught snatches of their conversation. ‘Such a difficult situation...’ ‘Not the child’s fault...’ ‘Very bright at school, but suffering from these disruptions...’
And over and over again from Aunt Joss: ‘This unhealthy obsession...’
One day, Mrs Brownlow had been soothing. ‘Linda seems much more upbeat—a real change. We’re hoping that this complete break will help get her back on track. She seems to be looking forward to it.’
‘Two weeks in Spain?’ Aunt Joss had sounded doubtful. ‘Without Dana?’
‘This first time, yes. To see how she copes. Perhaps we can arrange a joint holiday later on.’
Dana was thankful. Not that she was particularly happy at the village school where the children, confused by her arrivals and departures, treated her as an outsider. But she wasn’t altogether sure where Spain was—except that it was almost certainly a long way from Mannion, the only place she really wanted to be.
And where she would fight to stay.
But Linda, it seemed, had given up the fight because, towards the end of the two weeks, Aunt Joss got a letter from her to say she’d got a job in a bar and had decided to stay in Spain for a while.
Her decision had caused uproar among the officials who were handling her case, but Aunt Joss was calm, even philosophical, informing them that it could be for the best and would, at any rate, give Dana the chance of a stable upbringing.
Dana missed her mother but she also felt grateful that the burden of Linda’s seemingly endless despair had been lifted from her.
And at least she was living in the place that Linda had wanted for them both, and maybe, in time, Serafina’s attitude might soften and she would accept Dana as her granddaughter.
And in another way, Dana’s life took a definite change for the better when Nicola arrived to spend the summer at Mannion.
Another orphan of the storm, Dana recalled wryly, her parents acrimoniously divorced, with custody of Nicola and her older brother being awarded to their father. Megan Latimer was now living in the wilds of Colombia with the millionaire boyfriend who had caused the marriage breakdown on an estate rumoured to be like an armed fortress.
‘And I’m not allowed to go there,’ Nicola had confided as Dana was rather awkwardly showing her the gardens on Serafina’s instructions. ‘The judge said so, even though I said I liked Esteban.’
She looked woebegone. ‘Daddy said we could all go on a sailing holiday, but I didn’t want to, because I can’t swim very well and I get seasick. So he’s just taking Adam, and got Aunt Serafina to say I could come here.’
‘It’s lovely here,’ Dana said. ‘You’ll like it.’ And they exchanged cautious smiles.
In the kitchen garden, Mr Godstow, face ruddy under his faded cap, filled a trug for them with the pods of young, sweet peas, raspberries and gooseberries which they carried off to share in the den Dana had constructed in the shrubbery.
It was a curious form of bonding, but it worked. They’d both been on an emotional see-saw and now, unexpectedly, had found a friend in each other.
Until, of course, Zac Belisandro had engineered their separation.
But I’ll have my revenge, she told herself, when Mannion’s mine and it’s his turn to be barred.
And it would happen. She’d been thwarted once, but since then she’d had a long time to prepare for this second crucial attempt on the glittering prize that had possessed her heart and mind to the exclusion of so much else for so long.
The reunion at the flat viewing had gone like clockwork. Nicola’s delight at seeing her again was quite unfeigned, and while Dana might tell herself it was just a means to an end, she knew it wasn’t true, and that she was equally thrilled.
‘Eddie has to go back to work now,’ Nicola said when they joined Dana in the spacious living room after their second, private tour of inspection. ‘So why don’t we find a bar and have a double celebration?’
‘Double?’
‘Of course.’ Nicola’s wide grin was just the same. ‘Finding our future home and you, again, at the same time.’
‘Two wonderful reasons,’ Dana laughed back. ‘Let’s go.’
‘So what happened to you?’ Nicola asked as they toasted each other in Prosecco in a local wine bar. ‘Why did you suddenly disappear like that—before your final year at school?’
You mean that Zac Belisandro didn’t tell you...
Aloud, she said lightly, ‘It wasn’t really that sudden. I’d already decided against university, so when that London job came up again, I took it.’
‘But you went without a word.’ There was hurt in Nicola’s voice. ‘And you never answered any of my letters although your aunt promised she’d send them on.’
Except her first loyalty was to Serafina, not her own disgraced, illegitimate niece, exiled before she caused more trouble.
Dana swallowed. ‘Well, I did move around quite a bit. The letters
