Alasdair.’ Not that she was, in the slightest. ‘Even without the present complications I’m much too busy. I’m going home tomorrow for half-term—’
‘I know. Your brother told me over lunch yesterday.’
Kate’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve seen Adam?’
‘He’s auctioning some furniture for me.’
And Adam hadn’t seen fit to mention it?
Kate caught sight of Abby’s anxious face through the car window. ‘Look, I really must go.’
Alasdair caught her hand. ‘I’ll ring you later. Adam gave me your number.’
Less pleased with her brother by the minute, Kate detached her hand, said goodbye, got into her car, backed it away carefully to avoid contact with the pristine Italian paintwork of Alasdair’s, and, with a cool little wave to him, turned to the child in apology as she drove off. ‘Sorry about that.’
After the shock of meeting Alasdair Drummond again, Kate was halfway home before her attention returned to the tense, silent child behind her. ‘Are you all right, Abby?’
The little girl looked up at Kate, her eyes desperately worried behind her spectacles. Her lower lip trembled. ‘Does it hurt a lot to have a baby, Miss Dysart?’
Kate chose her words carefully. ‘I can’t speak from personal experience, Abby, but all six of my assorted nephews and nieces arrived without much trouble. Don’t worry. I’m sure your mother will be fine,’ she added firmly. And sent up a fervent prayer that she was right.
Kate’s home was one of a pair of small cottages a mile past the village itself. Situated deep in rural Herefordshire, Foychurch was a friendly place, with inhabitants who made Kate so welcome to the close-knit community from her first day at the village school that she’d soon felt as much part of it as she did at home in Stavely.
When they arrived Kate unlocked the front door, which opened directly into the sitting room, and ushered her guest inside.
‘What a sweet little house, Miss Dysart,’ said Abby in admiration.
‘Just right for one,’ Kate agreed, as she took the child’s coat. ‘Sit down and make yourself at home, while I make some tea and find something for you to drink.’
The phone rang while Kate was in the tiny, galley-style kitchen.
‘Miss Dysart? Jack Spencer. Tim gave me your number. I gather my niece is with you?’
‘That’s right, Mr Spencer.’
‘Look, Miss Dysart, I’m really sorry about this, but I’m stuck here at Heathrow for a while. My parents’ plane is delayed.’
‘I assure you it’s no problem. I’ll keep Abby safe until you arrive, whatever time it is.’ Kate supplied her address, then joined her little guest.
‘That was your uncle, Abby. I’m afraid he won’t be here for a while. Your grandparents’ plane is delayed.’
Abby perched on the edge of the sofa with her fizzy drink, eyeing Kate in distress. ‘I’m sorry to be such a nuisance, Miss Dysart.’
‘Of course you’re not a nuisance!’
The child smiled gratefully. ‘Uncle Jack is Mummy’s brother,’ she confided. ‘He’s a builder.’
The word conjured up a vision of low-slung jeans and suntanned torso which went rather well with the voice on the phone.
‘In a little while I’ll make something to eat, Abby,’ said Kate, ‘but first I must ring my mother.’
Upstairs in her bedroom, Kate rang home and explained why she might not be home as early as expected next day. ‘If it’s late before Abby’s collected tonight I fancy a long lie-in tomorrow before the drive.’
‘Poor little thing,’ said Frances Dysart with sympathy. ‘I hope everything goes well with the baby.’
‘Amen to that. By the way,’ Kate added quickly, ‘it wasn’t my only surprise of the day, Mother. You’ll never believe who was waiting for me outside school. Alasdair Drummond turned up out of the blue to ask me out to dinner.’
‘Ah, Adam thought he might.’
‘You knew about it? Honestly, Mother,’ said Kate indignantly, ‘you might have warned me.’
‘Alasdair wanted to surprise you.’
‘He certainly managed that.’
‘So are you having dinner with him?’
‘No way. Even without my little visitor, I had other plans for my evening.’
‘Something nice?’
‘Total bliss. Early to bed with a book.’
‘Oh, Kate!’ Frances laughed ruefully. ‘Was Alasdair disappointed?’
‘Why should he be?’ said Kate tartly. ‘He’s managed perfectly well without my company for a good few years now.’
‘I think you should know,’ said her mother carefully, ‘that Adam’s asked him to the christening.’
‘He’s done what?’
‘Darling, Adam thought you’d be pleased.’
Conceding that she’d have been euphoric at one time, Kate managed a chuckle. ‘Don’t worry, Mother, I won’t be too rough on the new daddy. How’s the new mummy?’
‘Very well. Mainly because her son lets Gabriel sleep now and then. Which is more than his father did for me!’
Kate laughed. ‘I trust Adam’s shouldering his share of the nappy-changing and so on?’
‘He’s a natural—took to fatherhood like a duck to water. Drive carefully, darling, and give me a ring when you start out.’
Kate stood grinding her teeth for a moment afterwards, furious with Adam for inviting Alasdair to the christening. Alasdair Drummond had been her first love, it was true. And even after all these years his physical presence still had an impact on her hormones. But her brain strongly objected to his assumption that she’d jump at the chance of an evening with him at the snap of his fingers. Alasdair had always been utterly sure of himself, socially and academically, and in that respect he obviously hadn’t changed in the slightest. But she had. Her eyes narrowed to a dangerous gleam. He would find that Kate Dysart was very different these days from the worshipful little student of the past.
‘Miss Dysart?’ called a hesitant voice, and Kate jerked out of her reverie and hurried from the room to find her little guest at the foot of the stairs.
‘Sorry to be so long, Abby, I’ve been chatting to my mother on the phone.’
‘Could I go to the loo, please?’
Kate
