Falling for you

number ... If she hadn’t spent the last ten minutes gazing after him in the lane before dawdling back up the drive, she’d have been here to pick up the phone herself .. .

‘Daddy!’

‘Oh.’ Bending, Kate unclipped Norris’s lead and watched him waddle like John Wayne through to the kitchen in search of food. Oh well, served her right for getting carried away. And in all honesty, since when had Kerr McKinnon been shy?

‘He’s coming home tomorrow,’ Estelle gabbled on, overdoing it as usual, ‘for a whole week! Isn’t that brilliant?’

‘Brilliant.’ Dutifully, Kate forced herself to smile. Not that she didn’t want to see her father, but it was hardly the most earth-shattering news in the world. Like most business tycoons, he was a workaholic, spending most of his time in London and jetting off at a moment’s notice around the world. When he was at home, he was constantly on the phone. It wasn’t as if she was suddenly going to have a dad to play endless cosy games of Monopoly with. Oliver Taylor-Trent preferred to play Monopoly with real money and proper hotels.

‘He’ll be here around midday, and he’s sorry he couldn’t get down before now, but he’ll make it up to you tomorrow.’ Her eyes sparkling, Estelle confided, ‘I think he’s bought you a present.’

It was like being seven again. Her father never changed.

‘You mean he’s told his secretary to pop into Harvey Nichols and buy me a present.’ But Kate couldn’t be cross, she was too used to it. Besides, it might be shoes. God knows, anything that drew attention away from her face had to be worth a try.

Chapter 11

The next morning was even hotter. With Oliver due home at lunchtime, Estelle had rushed into Bath to do a big supermarket shop. It wasn’t Marcella’s day to work. Finding herself alone in the house – well, apart from Norris, who didn’t count – Kate had changed into a pink bikini and wandered out to the pool. Now, after a few desultory lengths, she was stretched out on one of the recliners soaking up the sun. Swimming alone was no fun.

Closing her eyes, Kate remembered a magical summer long ago, when she and Maddy Harvey had played endlessly together in this very pool. They had been like sisters then. The following year she had been sent to Ridgelow Hall and had made new friends. She recalled the scorching, dusty afternoon when she and a couple of her new best friends had bumped into Maddy outside the sweet shop. How old had they all been? Eleven, maybe twelve? Nudging her companions, she had said gaily, ‘Hey, fancy a swim?’

Maddy, her thin little face lighting up, had said, ‘Oh, that’d be great.’

And she had smirked – God, actually smirked – and said, ‘Better go and jump in the river then.

Bye!’

It had seemed funny at the time. She and her friends had screeched with laughter at the look of disappointment on Maddy’s face. Now, Kate inwardly cringed at the memory.

There was no getting away from it, she had been a snobby little cow, seduced by the my-dad’s-richer-than- your-dad mentality of her fellow pupils. Once, visiting the spectacular home of one of the girls and discovering that the pool there was twice the size of her own, she had promptly broken off the friendship in order not to have to invite her back to Dauncey House. For weeks after that, she had even badgered her father to buy a helicopter purely to compensate for the embarrassment of not owning an Olympic-sized pool.

A cloud had drifted over the sun. Brushing a fly from her shoulder, Kate opened her eyes a fraction then let out a yelp of surprise, because it hadn’t been a cloud after all; the shadow on her face had been caused by a complete stranger who

‘Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you! Crikey, what must you think of me? I honestly thought you were asleep. Sorry, all my fault, I did ring the doorbell but there was no reply.’

Kate stared at him. If this was a burglar, he was the friendliest burglar she’d ever encountered.

‘And you are ... ?’

‘Will.’ He smiled, extended his hand and shook hers vigorously. When Kate continued to look blank, he said, ‘Will Gifford? And you must be Kate. Good to meet you, really good to meet you. Oh dear.’ He paused and shook his head in sorrowful fashion. ‘He didn’t tell you, did he?’

‘Who didn’t tell me what?’

‘Your father. God, I’m so sorry, I just assumed he’d have mentioned me.’

He was also the most apologetic burglar she’d ever met. Except it was fairly obvious now that he wasn’t a burglar.

‘Hang on. You rang the doorbell,’ said Kate, ‘and no one came to the door. So you assumed everyone was out and just decided to explore the back garden anyway?’

‘Oh Lord, it sounds terrible when you put it like that. Imean, I didn’t break down the front door, just wandered round the side of the house. I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait, you see.

And Oliver did invite me. I’ve got my case in the car.’

His case? ‘You mean you’re staying here? Look, I’m sorry,’ oops, now she was doing it too, ‘but who exactly are you?’

Kate was mystified; whoever this Will Gifford might be, he didn’t look like a business colleague of her father’s. In his mid-thirties, he was tall and indescribably scruffy, wearing crumpled black trousers and a baggy un-ironed checked shirt. His dark brown hair was all over the shop, sticking out in tufts, and his spectacles were Harry Potterish. The overall impression was of a gangly overgrown schoolboy, quite shy and clever but incapable of wielding a hairbrush.

As Will Gifford opened his mouth to reply, Estelle came into view, hurrying across the lawn calling, ‘Hello, I’m ba-ack.’

Will Gifford turned and said charmingly, ‘Mrs Taylor-Trent.’

Puffing, catching her breath, Estelle said, ‘Oof, it’s hot. You must be Will, how lovely to meet you. And please, do call me Estelle. You’re early!’