‘But you can’t just put us up without warning. I don’t suppose you have the room, and I don’t want to inconvenience you-’
‘That is not true,’ she said, speaking lightly but with a glitter in her eyes that gave him fair warning. ‘You do not care if you inconvenience me. You don’t care about anything as long as you get your own way. Now shut up and get in there before I stamp hard on your feet.’
The smile changed into a grin. He’d won again.
Mark was also grinning, Evie was glad to notice. For his sake she forgave his father everything.
Well, almost everything.
From the amount of luggage he hauled into the cottage it was clear that he’d come prepared to stay for a while. But it would just be until Andrew arrived, and not a moment longer.
‘It’s not what you’re used to,’ she warned. ‘No luxury. Just basic.’
‘You wouldn’t be trying to put me off?’ he said, regarding her ironically.
‘Would I do that?’
Again he gave that grin. This was Justin Dane in holiday mood. The grin was surprisingly attractive with a blazing quality that could lift a woman’s spirits unless she was on her guard against him. Which she was.
Mark dashed in and looked around at the large downstairs room with its big open fireplace.
‘It’s great!’ he enthused. ‘Just like a picture book.’
‘I didn’t think modern boys read that sort of picture book,’ she said.
‘Not now,’ he agreed, ‘but when I was a kid.’ He looked round and found something else to please him. ‘No central heating,’ he said ecstatically.
‘That’s a plus?’ Justin queried.
‘Radiators would have spoiled it,’ Mark explained.
‘That’s what Uncle Joe used to say.’ Evie chuckled. ‘He said he didn’t want to spoil the place with a lot of “new-fangled rubbish”. We used to put electric fires on in winter.’
‘If there’s somewhere to lay our heads,’ Justin said, ‘that’s all we ask.’
‘You can have the guest room. It’s got two single beds.’
She’d just finished cleaning the room. Now she found linen and dumped it on the beds.
‘It won’t take you long to make them up,’ she said, smiling at Justin. ‘Mark, why don’t we leave your father to it, while you and I go into the kitchen and we’ll see what there is for supper?’
She departed, throwing a challenging look over her shoulder. He regarded her with his eyebrows raised, but did not seem disconcerted.
When they were in the kitchen Evie muttered to Mark, ‘What is your father playing at?’
Mark’s shrug was eloquent. ‘Dad sets his heart on something and he has to have it. He promised me I could talk to you again.’
‘Even if it means chasing me halfway across the country
Mark gave a snort of delighted laughter.
‘Actually he won’t be missing that much,’ he said. ‘He’s brought his laptop computer. He can send and read emails at any hour. And he’s got his mobile phone so that all his calls won’t go on to your phone-’
‘
‘The actual time doesn’t matter,’ Mark said wisely. ‘Dad can get through more business in five minutes than anyone he knows. That’s what he says, anyway. And he always calls America in the evening because they’re five hours behind us, and he says that’s really useful-’
‘In other words, he isn’t actually planning to take any time off at all. It’ll be business as usual, just in a different setting.’
Mark nodded.
‘Until I tell him to leave.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ Mark said, awed by this reckless courage.
‘I would. I’ll be straight with you, Mark. At the right time, I’ll square up to your father and order him off my premises.’
‘Wow!’ he said, impressed. He moved closer and spoke like a conspirator. ‘Will you promise me something?’
She too leaned close. ‘What?’ she whispered dramatically.
‘That when you order Dad off your premises I can be there to see.
She laughed. ‘You wretched boy. All right, I promise you can be there to enjoy it.’
They jumped apart as Justin appeared with air of suppressed triumph.
‘Everything is done upstairs,’ he said. ‘If you’d care to look.’
‘Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?’ she asked.
‘Come and see.’
She was beginning to suspect the truth, but it was still a surprise to find the beds made perfectly and all the clothes neatly hung up in the wardrobe.
She realised that he was watching her closely, enjoying her expression.
‘Well done,’ she said. ‘Can you cook as well?’
‘Try me.’
‘I intend to,’ she said incredulously.
But again he proved himself better than her doubts. His egg and chips might not have been haute cuisine but they were properly cooked, even if both father and son drenched everything in tomato ketchup. She had to smile at the sight of them acting in unison, wiping their plates with bread, fearful of losing the last smidgen of ketchup.
When the meal was over she leaned back, watching him, her arms folded.
‘Well?’ she said.
‘Well?’
She inclined her head slightly towards the sink.
‘I did the cooking,’ he said indignantly.
‘Yeah, but we invited ourselves, Dad,’ Mark muttered.
‘Fine. I’ll wash, you dry.’ He rose. ‘Where’s the washing-up liquid?’
‘I’ll do it,’ she said, laughing.
In the end they all did it together in an atmosphere that was more pleasant than she would have dared to hope. Afterwards Mark asked to watch the television, and was amazed to discover that the set only received four terrestrial channels and had no teletext. Nor was there a video.
‘Gosh, it’s like history!’ he gasped.
‘Mark!’ Justin said sharply.
‘It’s all right.’ Evie chuckled. ‘He didn’t mean it rudely. It must be like something out of the Dark Ages to a modern child.’
In the end they settled down to watch the news, until they heard an ominous sound outside. Evie turned down the sound and they all listened in alarm.
‘It’s raining!’ Mark whispered in horror.
They went outside, where it was pelting down.
‘It’ll be all right in the morning,’ Evie said.
Mark looked at her. ‘Promise?’
‘Promise,’ she said recklessly. ‘And now I think you should go to bed. It’s late and tomorrow’s a big day.’
‘Can we go swimming?’
‘What about your cold?’
‘It’s better, honestly. Isn’t it, Dad?’
‘I wouldn’t have brought him here otherwise,’ Justin assured her. ‘Mark, you heard what Miss Wharton said. Up to bed.’
Mark took her hand. ‘Miss Wharton-can I call you Evie?’
‘Well, I’m not his teacher any more,’ she said. ‘Evie it is.’
