Chapters (42)
- Cover
- Title
- Dedication
- About the Author
- Also by
- Acknowledgements
- Part One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Part Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Part Three
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
‘I have – and a parachute, a compass, a water bottle and my bag of pemmican.’
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she said. ‘It’s just that it’s so important he shouldn’t lose confidence. You know what he’s like if he gets a fright. When he’s done it a few more times I’ll get more relaxed about it. I don’t mean to fuss.’
‘I know.’ He kissed the top of her head, noticing for the first time, with a wrench of the heart, a few silver strands in her curly dark hair – his laughing, once-so-carefree Iz who had whistled her way through life with bright confidence until Edward was born.
‘Would . . . would you like me to take Rory with me for the ride?’ he asked cautiously, not wanting to activate the lurking jealousy Isobel had confessed that she battled with over the beguiling little boy – his son, but oh, not hers. He felt he walked a tightrope between his own growing pride in, and love for, the little boy and his fervent wish not to cause his wife any extra hurt. ‘I could take him off your hands for a bit?’
‘Oh, do. He’d love to go with you and Ed will be thrilled to see him again. That’s one of the good things about this whole difficult situation. It’s Amy’s reaction I’m much more worried about. I think we need to talk to her about it this weekend – explain a few things before she hears hints from anyone else.’
‘Let’s wait till Sunday then,’ Giles temporised, dreading the thought of the explanations he would have to give to his daughter, remembering how passionately she had resented her aunt during that ill-fated summer, five years ago, when Lorna had succeeded in coming not only between husband and wife, but between father and daughter too; jeopardising the special bond they’d always had over Amy’s music. He remembered ruefully how furious his fiery little daughter had been with him for falling prey to Lorna’s manipulative wiles; how perceptively she had picked up on private temptations and hidden agendas without fully understanding what was going on.
‘I think we should get the concert on Saturday night over first,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want Amy to be upset before her performance. A lot of people are coming to hear her and it would be a shame if she didn’t give of her best.’
‘Just so long as we don’t put it off till she’s gone away again,’ said Isobel drily.