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'That he hasn't, bless him.' Kenzie smiled. 'It's a treat to have a bairn about the house again. I've half promised to take him up to see the lambs when I take my man's dinner later on.'

'Well, I don't know,' Katy said doubtfully. 'We should be getting back to Bridge House really. Toby's mother will be worrying.'

'Oh, Katy!' Toby wailed. 'She won't worry. And Uncle Sean said he'd take me up to the old quarry. We can go home after lunch.' He looked appealingly at Kenzie. 'You don't mind, do you?'

Katy looked at the huge brown eyes, feeling herself weaken. Kenzie smiled at her over Toby's head as she put the loaded plates in front of them. 'I'm afraid you're on a loser this time, Miss Lang. I'm thinking those eyes will be breaking a few hearts one of these fine days. Maybe you'd better ring Mrs Underwood and tell her you'll be home this afternoon.'

'But won't it put you out?' Katy asked.

The housekeeper shook her head. 'Bless you, no. It's no more work to cook for three than for one and it's nice to have a bit of company. It can get mighty lonely up here, you know.'

When she had eaten the last of her breakfast Katy made her way to the den to telephone Bridge House. She opened the door, then stopped as she saw Sean seated at his desk working quietly, his books open before him. He looked up.

'Good morning. Come in.'

'Good morning—I didn't know you were in here or I wouldn't have disturbed you. I was going to ring Claire to tell her we'd be home this afternoon.

Toby insists that you and he are going up to the old quarry and Kenzie has promised him a trip to see the new lambs too.'

He laughed. 'He seems to have planned the day for you! Of course—help yourself to the phone.'

'I'm a bit concerned over Toby's chest,' she confided. 'I haven't got his PF meter with me, though I must say he seems all right at the moment.'

'He'll be fine,' Sean assured her. 'I don't want you to make too much of a thing of the PF records. It could defeat the whole object.' He frowned. 'If we could only find a common factor that triggers off the attacks.'

Katy made her call to Bridge House and as she put down the receiver Sean looked up and said,

'Are you coming up to the quarry with Toby and me? It's a beautiful morning, you'll enjoy it.'

She nodded. 'Thank you, yes I'd like to.' It was as though last night had never happened.

It was a steep climb up to the quarry but although Toby got quite out of breath it didn't stop him from chattering all the way.

'Kenzie's husband's got two dogs—one's called Gyp and the other one's Flash. I'm going with her when we get back, to take them their dinner. Do you know that he has to dig the sheep and lambs out of the snow sometimes, but their woolly coats are so thick that they don't feel the cold—and they can live for a long time without eating too—because of the fat under their skins.'

Katy studied Sean's face, her heart lurching a little. Did he despise her—think of her as stupid and naive? The phrase 'frightened little girl' rang mockingly in her ears again and she hated herself for being so gauche. Why couldn't she have been like any other girl and enjoyed his lovemaking simply and light-heartedly? The answer to that was too painful to think about and she pushed it to the back of her mind. If he had found her exciting and desirable last night he must be sorely disillusioned by now. She winced as she remembered the panicky rejection—her awkward handling of the situation. Hadn't he admitted as much when he'd said 'I'm sorry. I misjudged you, Katy.' Her heart was like lead in her chest.

The quarry was fascinating. A huge scar in the hillside, partly grown over with grass and bracken now, but still at the heart of it the exposed limestone shone out starkly. Toby was delighted with the rusting railway lines and the crumbling trucks, even more so with the workmans' hut and its collection of primitive tools.

'I suppose I should really donate them to a museum,' Sean said thoughtfully. 'The fact is that I haven't had much time to sort things out up here yet. My grandfather only died six months ago. To tell the truth I'm loath to change things. The place feels so empty without him as it is.'

Katy looked at him. For a second his face was wistful and vulnerable and she guessed that his grandfather had meant a great deal to him. She longed to put her hand into his as a gesture of comfort and understanding, but he seemed so remote today. Suddenly he turned to her.

'Shall we climb to the top of the scar up there? There's a magnificent view from the top. Or do you think we should be getting back?'

Katy looked at the steep climb and shook her head doubtfully. Better not to push their luck. Toby had done very well as it was. Toby read her expression and began to protest.

'Oh, Katy—come on, don't be a spoilsport.'

'It's the time I'm thinking about,' she said diplomatically. 'Shepherds have their lunch early you know, and you wouldn't want to get back and find Kenzie had had to go without you.'

As they made their way back down the track Sean smiled at her. 'Ten out of ten for a neat diversion.' He reached out his hand to help her over a rocky patch, still slippery with melted snow. As his fingers touched hers her heart quickened. The sudden smile and words of approval, the casual touch of his hand—she would have to be content with these crumbs now, she told herself unhappily. Her foot slipped on the wet rock and his arm went impulsively round her waist to steady her. She looked up at him and their eyes met.

'Katy—I want you to know that I understand,' he told her quietly. 'Don't worry—and please don't look so embarrassed.' He smiled. 'We are still friends, aren't we?'

She nodded, her heart sinking even lower. What did he mean when he said he understood? How could he when she didn't herself? The very last thing she wanted to be was his friend. The fact that he wasn't annoyed with her could only mean one thing—that what had happened had been unimportant to him.

On the way back she was silent, feeling awkward and miserable—unable to think of anything to say that didn't sound empty or foolish. But Toby more than made up for her silence, chattering away nineteen to the dozen. Back at the house Sean offered to accompany him and Kenzie to the moor-side, leaving Katy time to get ready for the trip home to Bridge House.

It was half past two when they drove in through the gates and up the drive. As they came in sight of the house it was Toby who saw the car first.

'Wow! Look at that, Uncle Sean,' he shouted. 'It's yellow, like yours!'

Katy heard Sean draw in his breath sharply. 'Yellow it may be, but there the resemblance ends!'

The car that stood gleaming in front of the house was a sleek Mercedes and as they drew up behind it Claire came out on to the porch with a tall blonde girl. Toby cried out again,

'It's Auntie Helen!' He leapt out of the car and ran to meet her.

Katy looked at the tall, cool figure dressed so elegantly in a cream linen suit and wished that she had had more time to spend on her own appearance. This beautiful girl made her feel like a scruffy teenager in the crumpled jeans and sweater she had worn yesterday.

Claire came forward to meet them. 'So you came home at last!' She laughed. 'What a storm. I must admit that Jake and I were quite worried till we got your phone call.' She held out her hand to the newcomer. 'Helen—come and meet Sean MacInnon. Sean, this is Helen Kent. She is fashion editor of
Tomorrow's Woman
and it was through her that I met Jake—I think you could say that that puts her in the category of "best friend".' She laughed as she turned her attention to Katy. 'And this is Katy Lang who is here to keep an eye on our little horror for the summer.'

Katy found herself looking at a perfect oval face, expertly made-up and with stunning eyes of deep violet-blue. Tall and slim, she seemed to tower over Katy, but the smile she gave her was warm and friendly.

'Hello. I've been hearing all about you. I hope you've recovered from your ordeal in the blizzards yesterday.'

'Yes—thank you,' Katy mumbled. She was longing to go up to her room and change, acutely aware of the untidy state of her hair and her make-up-free, scrubbed face.

Toby was prattling on, making up for any awkward silences. 'We've had a
lovely
time! We stayed the night at Uncle Sean's and I slept in the bed he used to have when he was a little boy. This morning Kenzie took me to see the baby lambs and we went to the quarry too—yesterday we had muffins for tea and cam—camisole for dinner. It was scrummy!'

Katy stood back as they all laughed. She had seen the admiring look Sean had given Helen as he shook hands with her and she couldn't really blame him. It was a long time since she had seen a more elegant woman.

'Sean—you will stay for dinner, won't you,' Claire asked him.

'Well, yes, that would be very nice.'

'I hoped you'd say yes. We're having a special treat—Scotch salmon. Helen brought it. She's on her way back from a fishing holiday in Scotland with friends. She actually caught this one herself.'

Sean smiled at Helen. 'That was very clever of you.'

'I'd like to think so, but I'm afraid the gillie did most of the work. Still, it was on my line and it did weigh nine pounds, so I suppose I deserve some congratulations.'

Claire was ushering them all inside. 'Mrs Benson has her
Mrs Beeton
out on the kitchen table and a very determined look in her eye so I believe we can look forward to something spectacular,' she laughed.

In the privacy of her room Katy took a long look at herself in the mirror. How could she ever have taken Sean's remarks seriously? She wondered if she had imagined the things he said to her last night. Certainly at the moment she looked far from exciting or desirable. Tousled hair escaping in all directions, baggy sweater and frayed jeans. Angrily she tore them off and went through to the bathroom to run a bath. Claire had assured her that Toby would be fully occupied for the rest of the afternoon and that she should have some time to herself. She heard voices floating up from the garden and looking out of the window she saw Sean and Helen walking across the lawn together towards the river's edge. Anguish gnawed her heart. They looked so handsome together—almost the same height, Sean so dark and Helen so fair. As she watched, Sean threw back his head and laughed. Katy bit her lip. He was laughing
with
Helen—not
at
her. She could imagine the conversation—sparklingly witty with a hint of sophisticated flirtation.

Later she made sure that Toby had his bath and looked presentable for dinner, then she changed into the most sophisticated thing she possessed—a black velvet skirt and a lace top. She dressed her hair in the smoothest chignon she could persuade it into and made up her face with the utmost care. But even as she stood back critically to regard the result she had to admit that never in a million years could she hope to compete with the elegant Helen.

Toby bounded into the room and stopped short. 'Crumbs! You look like a stick of liquorice with a cherry on top!' he said with characteristic candour.

When Mrs Benson made her triumphal entrance with the
salmon
there were gasps of surprise and delight. The fish lay gleaming and silver on its oval platter, surrounded by a garnish of juicy tomato and glossy green watercress. To accompany it there were the very first new potatoes, sweetcorn and asparagus and to follow, a home-made ice-cream confection laced with pineapple and brandy. As the coffee was brought in Sean leaned back with a sigh.

'I feel as though I shan't want to eat another crumb for a month! Many thanks for inviting me to share such a feast, Claire. It really has been a treat.' Katy glanced at him. Was it her imagination or was he looking meaningly at Helen when he said that? She was certainly looking beautiful in a dress of clinging white jersey silk, one creamy shoulder bare and her blonde hair swept to one side in an elegant swirl, caught with a sparkling clip. Katy tore her eyes away and looked at Toby who was blinking sleepily.

'I think it's high time you said goodnight,' she told him. To her surprise he made no protest as she accompanied him up the stairs. When he was in bed she took the peak-flow meter and chart in to him, and to her concern she saw that the reading was alarmingly low. She glanced at the child. He was pale. All the zest and energy had fallen from him. Had she allowed him to do too much today, she wondered.

'Are you sleepy, Toby?' she asked. He nodded and snuggled down in his bed, clutching Arnold close.

As she came out on to the landing she met Claire coming upstairs. 'I was just coming to tell you that I'll stay up here close to Toby this evening,' she said, glad to have an excuse not to go down again. 'I think he may have overtired himself a little. He's asleep at the moment, but his PF reading was rather low.'

Claire smiled. 'Just as you feel best. You must be tired yourself. I'll say goodnight then if Toby has already dropped off.'

Katy closed her door. From downstairs came the sound of laughter and she felt like an outsider. Supposing—just supposing, she speculated, she had not called a halt last night. What would the situation be now? But her mind refused to supply the answer. Surely he must be glad not to have entangled himself—especially now that he had met this fabulous creature. How could she ever have imagined that Sean could feel as she did? At best their affair would have been brief and—for her—poignant. Perhaps she had escaped a worse hurt than she felt now.

She woke to a cry and sat up, instantly alert, to glance at the bedside clock. It was two am. Sliding out of bed she pulled on her dressing-gown and ran into the next room. Toby was sitting up in bed, leaning forward, his face flushed, his shoulders heaving with the effort of breathing. Rapidly she took pillows from the cupboard and piled them into the chair by the bed, then she lifted Toby into it and propped him upright with the pillows. She took his inhaler from the drawer and held it to his lips, noticing with a surge of pity the sucked-in muscles around his neck and the white line encircling his mouth. Reassuringly she patted his cheek.

'Try to relax, darling, and breathe your inhaler. Katy's here—' She bent to pick up the battered teddy from the floor where it had fallen. 'Here— cuddle Arnold, he'll help make you better.' Toby managed a feeble smile and drew in the healing vapour of the inhaler that would help to dilate his closed bronchial tubes. After a few breaths he grew visibly better, his colour improved and he began to relax.