‘I do, but she’s still very vulnerable, living alone.’ Liz could foresee the problems that would accompany advancing years in a remote location. ‘I’m glad Will is not too far up the road. He could be a lifeline as she gets older.’

Matt sighed. ‘I think our Will is struggling to cope with his own problems, darling, without taking on other people’s. I’m sure that’s why he wants us on the case. He feels slightly responsible for the old duck but doesn’t have the energy to be on call for her.’

‘I wonder how Kate’s going to behave tomorrow? Will seemed terribly edgy about her, didn’t he?’

‘Oh well,’ Matt said. ‘Not long to wait. And I’m dying to see Will actually cook something. What’s the betting it’s a Pot Noodle?’

Liz elbowed him. ‘I’m sure you’ll be utterly amazed.’

‘If he cooks at all, that’ll be enough for me.’

They drove back to Tanners Fen, laughing about times past. There had been some horrific cases, but there had been a lot of fun too. Liz was happy that they were beginning to leave the bad things behind and recall the good times. Life was finally moving on.

She rested her hand on his leg.

* * *

Angela Lazenby, the author of the Fairy Dreams series, and Hubert Price, who was agent to both Kate and Angela, had phoned ahead to say they had been held up but should be there within the hour.

‘Damn and blast! Don’t they realise I could be working! I can’t sit fannying around waiting for them to get their arses into gear,’ Kate said.

Will didn’t even try to stop her tirade. She’d been on edge all morning, constantly telling him what a pain it was, having to put everything on hold for this “royal visit.” He hadn’t liked to remind her that it was she who had insisted they collect the new designs because she didn’t want to trail up to London with them. ‘But, sweetheart,’ he ventured, ‘you’ve finished this new character now. Why the rush to get back into the studio?’

‘Because,’ she emitted a harsh exhalation, ‘if you must know, I’m sick of Angela’s bloody fairies and I’ve started a book of my own.’

Will stared at her, open-mouthed. She had always said she wanted to create something that was not some other author’s brainchild, a work for adults, something that was entirely her own making. ‘Well, that’s brilliant! But why the secrecy? You always used to show me your work.’

Kate fiddled with her watch strap. ‘Er, well, they are a bit different to my usual style. I’ve been experimenting, and I wanted one finished painting for you to look at.’