A Wicked Persuasion by Catherine George Page A

Graveneys. It certainly beat the housework and gardening she usually did on Sundays. She had learned her lesson when she made her permanent move into the Lodge.A small house had to be kept scrupulously tidy. And if she sometimes yearned for the space and light up at the main house she never admitted it to herself, let alone anyone else.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T HE following Saturday Harriet was in the middle of attacking the chores usually done on Sunday when she was surprised by a rare phone call from Sophie.
    ‘Harriet—oh, thank God. You’re there. Can you do me a huge favour? Please, please, say you will or I’ll—’
    ‘Whoa! Is something wrong with Annabel?’
    ‘Yes, no—I mean—’
    ‘Take a deep breath and calm down. What’s wrong?’
    ‘Gervase has just driven Pilar to the airport. We’ve been invited to a garden party tomorrow, and Pilar’s had to rush off to Spain today for some family crisis—so inconsiderate, I’m sure she could have waited until Monday. There’ll be lots of really useful people for Gervase at the party, so he says we’ve just got to go, but children are not invited, and there’s no one to look after Annabel—and—and …’ Sophie trailed off into hysterical tears.
    ‘Sophie! For heaven’s sake, stop blubbing.’ Harriet sighed. Goodbye to lunch with the Graveneys. ‘All right, I’ll come, but on the strict understanding that you leave the party in good time for me to get back here in the evening. I’ve got to be in work first thing on Monday, remember.’
    ‘Honestly, Harriet, is work all you can think about …?’ Sophie stopped, regrouping hurriedly. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’m soupset I can’t think straight. So you’ll drive over this evening?’
    And sleep in Annabel’s room so the child didn’t disturb her mother in the night now Pilar wasn’t there! ‘No, I can’t, sorry.’
    ‘ Surely you can put off what you have on tonight,’ wheedled Sophie. ‘Please, Harriet.’
    ‘Look, Sophie, I had a lunch invitation myself tomorrow. I’m willing to cancel that to help you out, but I’m not driving over to you tonight. I’ll come in the morning.’
    ‘Oh. Oh, all right. But make sure you come in good time tomorrow; we’re due at the party at twelve.’
    It was absurd, Harriet informed herself, to feel so disappointed. Apparently she’d been looking forward to Sunday lunch with the Graveneys more than she’d let herself admit. She shrugged philosophically, and rang Moira to say she couldn’t make it.
    ‘My sister has a domestic crisis and needs a babysitter tomorrow. I’m really sorry about this. I hope it hasn’t put you out in any way.’
    ‘Not at all. But we were looking forward to seeing you again. Never mind. Families come first.’
    ‘As you well know. How is Claudia?’
    ‘Stir-crazy, according to Lily, though apparently not short of visitors.’
    No surprise there! ‘Moira, since I can’t make it tomorrow, do you fancy having lunch in town with me one day instead?’
    ‘I’d like that very much indeed. When?’
    They settled on a date, and Harriet put her phone away feeling marginally happier, but too restless to sit in her now immaculate house on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Tomorrow would be exhausting, so it was only common sense to read a book, watch TV, or simply lie on her sofaand do nothing while she had the chance. Instead, Harriet slapped on sunblock and thrust her hair through the back of a baseball cap, then went up to the big double garage behind the main house to take out the sit-on lawn mower.
    Harriet was sweating profusely, her khaki shorts and sleeveless tank top dirty and some of her hair sticking in damp rings on her forehead and neck by the time the big main lawn bore satisfying stripes of newly cut grass. She emptied out the last container of clippings into the area hedged off for compost, and got back on to the machine to drive it out through the shrubbery onto the main drive. Her heart plummeted to her scruffy sneakers at