'Well, make sure it's a cake that doesn't go squishy.' Hamish scraped the last spoonful of syrup tart out of his plate. 'Mum sent me a cake once and all the cream oozed out through the parcel, and Matron was livid. She threw the whole lot into the Sick Bay dustbin.'

'Mean old Matron,' said Pandora sympathetically.

'She's a cow. Mum, can I have some more?'

'Yes, but hand it round first.'

Hamish got to his feet and went to do this, a dish in either hand.

Lucilla said, 'We have a small problem.' Everybody looked at her, interested to know what it was but not particularly concerned. 'Jeff hasn't got anything to wear. To the dance, I mean.'

Eyes were now turned on Jeff, who had sat through the meal without taking much part in any conversation. He looked faintly abashed and seemed pleased for the diversion of Hamish arriving at his side with the offer of second helpings of pudding. He turned to dip the spoon into what remained of the blackberry fool.

He said, 'When I left Australia I never thought I'd be asked to a formal do. Besides, there wasn't space in my backpack for a dinner jacket.'

They all considered the problem.

Archie said, 'I'd lend you mine, only I'm wearing it myself.'

'Dad, yours wouldn't even go round Jeff.'

'He could always hire one. There are places in Relkirk…'

'Oh, Dad, they're dreadfully expensive.'

Archie was humbled. 'Sorry. I wouldn't know.'

Across the table, Edmund eyed the young Australian. 'You're about the same size as I am. I'll lend you something if you like.'

Violet, hearing this, was taken aback. Sitting next to her son, she turned her head to look at him. He seemed unaware of her piercing regard, and his profile, composed and unsmiling, gave nothing away. Trying to analyze her un-motherly astonishment, she realized that the truth of it was that she had never expected Edmund to come up with such a kindly and impetuous suggestion.

But why? He was her son, the child of Geordie. She knew that where important issues were concerned he would never be anything but generous-with both time and money-concerned and considerate. Violet could turn to him-and had done so many times- knowing that he would go to endless trouble to sort out a problem or help her make a decision.

But little things… little things were different, the small gesture, the tender word, the trivial gift that had cost nothing but a few pence and a moment of time, but was significant because of the thought behind it. Her eyes strayed across the table to Virginia and the heavy gold bracelet that she wore around her wrist. Edmund had given her that bracelet-and Violet did not like to think what it had cost-like a tube of glue, to patch up their disagreement. But how much better had they not quarrelled in the first place, and so spared themselves weeks of unhappiness.

And now he was offering Lucilla's Jeff a favour. It would be no hardship to him, but the offer had been made so spontaneously that Violet was reminded of Geordie. Which should have filled her with pleasure, but instead left her sad because she could not remember when she had last looked at Edmund and recognized any characteristic inherited from his gentle father.

As for Jeff, he seemed as disconcerted as she was herself.

'No. I couldn't impose. I'll just hire something.'

'No skin off my nose. I've some spare things at Balnaid. You can try them on, see how they fit.'

'But won't you need them yourself?'

'I shall be decked out, like the man on a shortbread tin, in my kilt.'

Lucilla, however, was deeply grateful. 'You are a saint, Edmund. What a relief. Now all I have to do is find some garment to wear.'

'Isobel and I are going shopping for finery in Relkirk,' Pandora told her. 'Why don't you come too?'

Lucilla, surprising everybody, said, 'I'd love to.' But their surprise was short-lived. 'There's a wonderful market in Relkirk, and a stall stuffed with glorious nineteen-thirties tat. I'm sure I'll find something there.'

'Yes,' said her mother. 'I am quite sure that you will.'

'Dad, you are a brute! You've bashed me right into the rhododendrons. '

'I wanted to get you out of the way.' 'You didn't need to hit me quite so far.'

'Yes, I did. You're far too cunning a player to be left jostling around the hoop. Now, Virginia, you need to come just here,' 'Which blade of grass did you have in mind?' Isobel's lunch party, with coffee drunk, had amicably dispersed. The boys, abandoning Scalectrix, had gone to play in Hamish's tree-house, and swing on his trapeze. Isobel had taken Vi to look at her border… not as grand or imposing as it had been in the old days but still something that she was always quite proud to show off and have admired. Archie, Virginia, Lucilla, and Jeff had decided to take advantage of Hamish's labour and were engaged in a needle contest of croquet. Edmund and Pandora sat in the old swing-seat at the top of the grassy bank and watched them.

It had turned into a pleasant and blowy afternoon. Clouds, in layers, drifted across the sky, but there were wide patches of blue in between, and when the sun shone, it became very warm. Despite this, Pandora, on her way out into the garden, had collected from the cloakroom an old shooting jacket of Archie's, oiled khaki and lined with hairy tweed. Bundled in this garment, she sat with her legs tucked up beneath her. From time to time Edmund gave a push with his foot to set the old seat swinging. It needed to be oiled and made a hideous squeaking sound.

A wail from the middle of the rhododendrons. 'I can't find the beastly ball and I've been scratched by a bramble.'

'In a moment,' Edmund observed, 'family fur is going to fly.'

'It always did. It's a lethal game.'

They fell silent, rocking gently to and fro. Virginia took a swipe at her ball, which rolled placidly at least four yards beyond the spot that Archie had been indicating.

'Oh, sorry, Archie.'

'You hit it too hard.'

'Nothing,' said Edmund, 'is so obvious as the obvious remark.'

Pandora made no comment. Squeak, squeak went the swing.

They watched in silence while Jeff played his shot. She said, 'Do you hate me, Edmund?'

'No.'

'But you despise me? Think little of me?'

'Why should I do that?'

'Because I made such a mess of everything. Running off with another woman's husband, and he old enough to be my father. Leaving no word of explanation, breaking my parents' hearts, never coming back. Sending waves of shock and horror to reverberate around the county.'

'Is that what happened?'

'You know it is.'

'I wasn't here at the time.'

'Of course. You were in London.'

'I never found out why you went flying off.'

'I was miserable. I didn't know what to do with my life. Archie had gone and was married to Isobel, and I missed him. There didn't seem to be any way to turn. And then along came a little diversion, and it all seemed frightfully glamorous and grown-up. Exciting. My ego needed a boost and that's what he provided.'

'How did you meet him?'

'Oh, at some party. He had a horse-faced wife called Gloria, but she scarpered pretty sharpish as soon as she saw the way the wind was blowing. Went off to Marbella and never returned. Which was another reason for eloping to California.'

Lucilla, with bits of leaf in her hair, emerged from the rhododendrons and rejoined the game. 'Who's been through the hoop, and who hasn't?'

The seat, gradually, stopped swinging. Edmund gave another push and started it up again. Squeak, squeak.

Pandora said, 'Are you happy?'

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