grinned. ‘Okay, the boys,’ he mimicked her humorously, and she thought again how likeable he was when he wasn’t continually trying to score points.
‘You look pale,’ he continued, surveying her with steady consideration. ‘You’re not still worrying about Aunt Hannah, are you?’
‘Well, I am worried, of course, but I didn’t realise it showed so badly,’ she responded dryly. ‘What’s the matter? Do I look a hag? I must admit, I’ve been wondering if she’ll recognise me.’
‘Why?’
‘Why?’ Abby shook her head. ‘It is ten years since she’s seen me, Matt.’
‘So what? You don’t look old.’
‘Thank you.’
‘As a matter of fact, one of the fifth-formers asked if you were my sister the other day,’ he told her, with some reluctance. ‘I said you were my mother, and he said you must have been a schoolgirl when you had me. I socked him!’
‘Oh, Matt!’ Abby was disturbed, but touched that he should care what people said of her.
‘Well…’ Matt hunched his shoulders, ‘he was implying I didn’t have a father. Rotten bastard!’
‘Matt!’ Abby’s lips parted. ‘Don’t ever let me hear you use that word again!’
‘Well, it’s true. Nobody believes me when I say my parents are separated. They think you were never married.’
‘But you and I know, Matt.’
‘Do we?’ Momentarily, his expression darkened, but then, as if determined not to let what other people thought cloud his enjoyment of the trip, he forced a smile and glanced out the window. ‘Where are we? Is this Newcastle?’
Taking her cue from him, Abby forced her own sense of apprehension aside, and looked about her. ‘No, this is Darlington,’ she said, as they slowed to approach the station. ‘Then there’s Durham, and after that, Newcastle.’
‘Good.’ Matthew rested his elbows on the table in front of him and watched the activity on the platform. ‘What time will we get to Alnbury? Does Aunt Hannah know we’re coming?’
‘I hope so.’ Abby answered his second question first. ‘I wrote to her yesterday, so she should have received the letter this morning. I would have sent a telegram, but I was afraid she might be alarmed at its arrival. Old people are funny. They associate telegrams with bad news.’ She sighed. ‘We received a telegram when my father was drowned.’
‘Grandfather Charlton?’
‘That’s right,’ Abby nodded reminiscently. ‘Aunt Hannah was so kind to me. I’ll never be able to repay her.’
Matthew was silent for a while, but then, as the train gathered speed again, he said: ‘How will we get to Rothside? You said we could catch a bus to Alnbury.’
‘Yes, we can.’ Abby frowned. ‘I’m not sure now where the bus station is, in relation to the railway station, I mean. But we can always ask someone. If we get into Newcastle on time, we should be able to catch the nine o’clock bus to Alnbury. That will get us there about ten.’
‘Isn’t that late for an old lady?’ asked Matthew, with his usual pragmatism, and Abby had to concede that it was.
‘Let’s hope she appreciates the effort,’ she said, with enforced lightness, but as the train neared Newcastle, her nerves were sharpening.
The train ran into the station at Newcastle at a little after ten minutes to nine, and by the time Abby had extracted them and their luggage, it was five to. The chances of them catching the nine o’clock bus were growing slimmer by the moment, and the idea of hanging about for another hour was daunting.
‘Don’t panic,’ said Matthew, striding along the platform beside her, as she rummaged in her handbag for their tickets. ‘There may be a bus at half past nine.’
‘I’m sure there isn’t——’ Abby was beginning, only to break off abruptly at the sight of the man standing ahead of them at the barrier. Tall and lean, his thin dark face was unmistakable beneath hair that was more black than brown. He had changed. He was older, and perhaps a little broader, but she recognised him instantly, as if his image had been engraved in her thoughts.
She halted abruptly, and Matthew halted too, gazing at her impatiently. ‘Mum——’
‘Just a minute.’ She made the excuse of searching through her bag to give herself more time, but nothing could alter the fact that he was there, and waiting for them.
Aunt Hannah shouldn’t have done it, she thought frustratedly. She wasn’t prepared, she wasn’t ready. The last thing she had expected was to meet him tonight, and she looked at Matthew anxiously, wondering how he would react to this.
‘What’s wrong?’ Matthew was looking at her strangely now, his fair brows drawing together as he identified her consternation. ‘What is it? Don’t you feel well? Mum, it’s nearly nine o’clock. Don’t you want to catch that bus?’
Abby’s mouth opened and closed as she tried to find words to explain what was about to happen. ‘I—we—we may not need to catch the bus,’ she began, glancing towards the barrier, and Matthew swung round curiously, perplexed as to her reasoning.
But even as Abby was trying to summon a stumbling explanation, something else happened, something that caused the hammering palpitation of her heart to pause sickeningly for a second, before racing unsteadily on. Piers was smiling at someone, speaking to someone who had emerged from the first class compartments of the train. And that someone was small and feminine, and, despite the mild September evening had a silky fur coat draped about her slim shoulders. Valerie Langton? Abby wondered, trying to control the giddy feeling of faintness that was sweeping over her, and Matthew looked from her to the barrier and then back at her again.
‘What is it?’ he demanded, as Abby endeavoured to keep her balance. ‘Mum, what’s going on? Is it that man? What’s he doing here? Do you know him?’
Abby’s tongue circled her parched lips. ‘I—I thought I did,’ she murmured, realising she had to pull herself together. ‘My, it’s warm tonight, isn’t it?’ She fanned herself nervously. ‘I feel quite hot.’
‘You don’t look hot,’ declared Matthew, transferring the suitcase and her holdall to one hand and putting the other through her arm. ‘You don’t have any colour at all,’ he added, beginning to hustle her towards the ticket collector.
‘Oh—wait!’ The girl in the fur coat was still at the barrier, handing over her ticket, talking to Piers as she did so. ‘I—there’s no point in hurrying now, Matt. We won’t catch that bus.’
‘But you said something about us not needing to catch the bus,’ he exclaimed, his suspicions fully aroused now. ‘Mum, you do know that man, don’t you? Who is it? My father?’
Abby wished she could have fainted then. It would have been so much easier just to collapse in a graceful heap and allow other people to take responsibility for what might happen. Even Matthew couldn’t ignore her if she lost consciousness at his feet,
