Dan watched Rowena push at a wisp of hair that had fallen across her eyes. He had been surprised when she had asked him in for some lunch. These days he usually went home to Paula. Tom was almost part of the family too. He’d worked for them for a couple of years now and he’d thought it was odd that Rowena hadn’t extended the invitation to include him.

“I’ve sent him home anyway. Told him to rest up. He’s playing in the footy final this weekend. I can finish the rest by myself.”

“And Paula’s gone into town?”

“Yes. She had a doctor’s appointment.”

Dan looked up in surprise as the cup Rowena sat on the table in front of him rattled precariously on its saucer. “She’s all right?” Rowena said. “There’s nothing wrong with the baby?”

He noticed worry lines on his aunt’s face. “Everything’s fine. This is just a check-up. Evidently she’s supposed to have one every month.”

“Of course.” Rowena mopped at the drops of tea that had slopped over the edge of his cup. “And these days there are so many tests they can do. Often couples even know the sex of their baby before it’s born.”

“Paula and I have talked about that.”

“Have you?” Rowena’s sharp gaze locked on his.

“We’d rather it was a surprise.”

Rowena sat but instead of putting food on her plate, she pulled the letter she’d been reading out from under it and held the folded paper in her two hands. “It may be more of a surprise than you’d bargained for,” she said. “I’ve just received a letter from my cousin, Beryl.”

Dan looked quickly at Rowena. The sausage roll pastry stuck to the roof of his mouth. He was an only child. His father and grandparents were dead. Maybe cousin Beryl was like Uncle Gerald. He had been a friend of Dan’s grandfather and had become known as ‘uncle’. It was a form of politeness children used for family friends. No blood connection existed. To Dan’s knowledge, Rowena was his only living relative on the Woodcroft side.

“Who is cousin Beryl?” He washed down the pastry with a slurp of tea.

“She’s only a cousin by marriage. Your grandfather had a brother. Beryl married his son, Alfred – my cousin.”

Dan frowned at his aunt. “Alfred?”

“We always called him Freddy.”

That name was more familiar to Dan. “He was named as the other executor of Dad’s will, but he died not long after Dad, didn’t he? I didn’t even know he was married.”

“Your father was closer in age to Freddy. I hardly knew him myself.”

“How is it that you’ve never mentioned Beryl before?”