the last to appear, and Phoebe noticed immediately that she was walking on her own, looking down at the ground.
She cupped her hands to her mouth. 'Hi,' she called. 'We're over here.'
The child looked up, and the wistful, slightly withdrawn expression vanished like magic.
'Phoebe.' She hurled herself across the road. 'You're staying. You really are. I wished so hard, and it's come true.'
'Well, I hope you don't regret it.' Phoebe returned her hug. 'I can be a real dragon.'
'Can we go home and play another game?' Tara asked eagerly.
'No, poppet. You have a music lesson, and then your homework to do.' Phoebe decided to get into dragon mode right away.
'Daddy—do I have to go to music?' Tara wheedled.
He pinched her nose gently. 'Yes, my love. Mrs Blake is expecting you.'
'But I want to show Phoebe all my toys.'
'There'll be plenty of time for that.' Phoebe ushered her into the back of the car and fastened her seat-belt.
'You won't go away?' the child asked anxiously. 'People always go away.'
Phoebe felt something twist inside her. 'I'll stay as long as you need me,' she said slowly.
Dominic touched her arm. 'I'd better introduce you to Mrs Franks, Tara's teacher.'
He took her across to a tall woman who'd been standing just inside the school gate, talking vivaciously to a small group of mothers. As she turned away Dominic intercepted her.
'Mrs Franks, this is Phoebe Grant, who will be looking after Tara for me.'
'Another young woman,' Mrs Franks said with a silvery laugh, raking Phoebe with a glance that managed to be inquisitive and dismissive at the same time. 'I do hope for your sake that she's rather more reliable than the last one, Mr Ashton.'
Her voice became earnest. 'You see, we do feel at Westcombe Park that a stable home background is so necessary for the well-being of the individuals in our little community.'
'Yes.' There was a touch of bleakness in Dominic's voice. 'I'm aware of that too.' He turned and strode back to the car. But Phoebe lingered for a moment.
'Is Tara settling in at school?' she asked.
'Naturally.' Mrs Franks bridled a little. 'We pride ourselves on making even the most awkward newcomer feel at home. Why do you ask?'
'It's just that she came out on her own,' Phoebe said rather lamely. 'And I wondered...'
'Isn't it rather soon to be making judgements?' Another tinkle of laughter. 'Generally children of that age find their own level without needing interference from adults.'
'I didn't mean to interfere,' Phoebe said quickly. 'I was just—concerned.'
'And a little over-conscientious, perhaps?' Phoebe was given a patronising smile. 'I think you can safely leave Tara to us during school hours.' Mrs Franks looked over Phoebe's shoulder. 'Ah, Mrs Dawson, I hoped I'd see you today. It's about Melanie's extra reading...'
Phoebe returned to the car. I probably am worrying for nothing she thought. And yet...
'Shall I come in with you?' Phoebe asked Tara as she parked the car in Derwent Street.
'I don't think she's reached audience standard yet.' Dominic sounded amused. 'We'll go for a stroll while she has her lesson.'
Mrs Blake, Tara's piano teacher, was a tall woman with a calm, humorous face, and Phoebe liked her immediately.
In return she received an appraising look and a firm handshake.
'I'm glad to have seen the last of your predecessor,' she told Phoebe quietly while Tara was finding her music and climbing onto the piano stool. 'Pretending that she'd be there to pick Tara up at my gate, and getting the child to lie for her.' She snorted. 'Unforgivable. She deserves her broken bones.'
Phoebe would have liked to linger in the cosy house, listening to Tara's lesson. The realisation that Dominic was waiting for her was a daunting one. She wasn't sure she wanted to go strolling with him. She seemed to be spending altogether too much time in his company as it was. Hands in pockets, she walked quietly at his side down Derwent Street, and out into the main shopping area.
The
She cupped her hands to her mouth. 'Hi,' she called. 'We're over here.'
The child looked up, and the wistful, slightly withdrawn expression vanished like magic.
'Phoebe.' She hurled herself across the road. 'You're staying. You really are. I wished so hard, and it's come true.'
'Well, I hope you don't regret it.' Phoebe returned her hug. 'I can be a real dragon.'
'Can we go home and play another game?' Tara asked eagerly.
'No, poppet. You have a music lesson, and then your homework to do.' Phoebe decided to get into dragon mode right away.
'Daddy—do I have to go to music?' Tara wheedled.
He pinched her nose gently. 'Yes, my love. Mrs Blake is expecting you.'
'But I want to show Phoebe all my toys.'
'There'll be plenty of time for that.' Phoebe ushered her into the back of the car and fastened her seat-belt.
'You won't go away?' the child asked anxiously. 'People always go away.'
Phoebe felt something twist inside her. 'I'll stay as long as you need me,' she said slowly.
Dominic touched her arm. 'I'd better introduce you to Mrs Franks, Tara's teacher.'
He took her across to a tall woman who'd been standing just inside the school gate, talking vivaciously to a small group of mothers. As she turned away Dominic intercepted her.
'Mrs Franks, this is Phoebe Grant, who will be looking after Tara for me.'
'Another young woman,' Mrs Franks said with a silvery laugh, raking Phoebe with a glance that managed to be inquisitive and dismissive at the same time. 'I do hope for your sake that she's rather more reliable than the last one, Mr Ashton.'
Her voice became earnest. 'You see, we do feel at Westcombe Park that a stable home background is so necessary for the well-being of the individuals in our little community.'
'Yes.' There was a touch of bleakness in Dominic's voice. 'I'm aware of that too.' He turned and strode back to the car. But Phoebe lingered for a moment.
'Is Tara settling in at school?' she asked.
'Naturally.' Mrs Franks bridled a little. 'We pride ourselves on making even the most awkward newcomer feel at home. Why do you ask?'
'It's just that she came out on her own,' Phoebe said rather lamely. 'And I wondered...'
'Isn't it rather soon to be making judgements?' Another tinkle of laughter. 'Generally children of that age find their own level without needing interference from adults.'
'I didn't mean to interfere,' Phoebe said quickly. 'I was just—concerned.'
'And a little over-conscientious, perhaps?' Phoebe was given a patronising smile. 'I think you can safely leave Tara to us during school hours.' Mrs Franks looked over Phoebe's shoulder. 'Ah, Mrs Dawson, I hoped I'd see you today. It's about Melanie's extra reading...'
Phoebe returned to the car. I probably am worrying for nothing she thought. And yet...
'Shall I come in with you?' Phoebe asked Tara as she parked the car in Derwent Street.
'I don't think she's reached audience standard yet.' Dominic sounded amused. 'We'll go for a stroll while she has her lesson.'
Mrs Blake, Tara's piano teacher, was a tall woman with a calm, humorous face, and Phoebe liked her immediately.
In return she received an appraising look and a firm handshake.
'I'm glad to have seen the last of your predecessor,' she told Phoebe quietly while Tara was finding her music and climbing onto the piano stool. 'Pretending that she'd be there to pick Tara up at my gate, and getting the child to lie for her.' She snorted. 'Unforgivable. She deserves her broken bones.'
Phoebe would have liked to linger in the cosy house, listening to Tara's lesson. The realisation that Dominic was waiting for her was a daunting one. She wasn't sure she wanted to go strolling with him. She seemed to be spending altogether too much time in his company as it was. Hands in pockets, she walked quietly at his side down Derwent Street, and out into the main shopping area.
The
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