puzzled, and puts the handset back on the stand.
‘But there aren’t any tadpoles yet,’ says Ed. ‘It’s much too early. It’s only frogspawn.’
‘It’s just Tilly’s joke,’ says Billa. ‘Don’t ask. Let’s eat this before it gets cold.’
She spoons scrambled egg on to plates, with slices of crispy bacon, and the three of them sit together at the big slate table as they have so many times before. The dogs clamber on to the old, sagging sofa and settle comfortably as if they were still puppies. The kitchen is warm and peaceful, Bear begins to snore and Billa teases Ed about yet another hole in his jersey.
Dom remembers how the two of them welcomed him as their brother, accepted him so joyfully into their lives, and how happy they were until Tris arrived. He remembers Ed saying, ‘I hate him,’ and Billa weeping over Bitser’s death. He hears Tris’s words: ‘So you’re the bastard’… ‘Your mother was a whore,’ and he thinks: I can’t allow Tris to spoil what we’ve got now. Not again. I’ll kill him first.
‘Don’t look so grim, Dom.’ Billa is smiling at him, guessing his thoughts. She looks cheerful and confident and happy. ‘I really cannot see how Tris can do us any harm after all this time. He’s probably hundreds of miles away, bored out of his mind and thinking up ways of being his old tiresome self.’
Dom nods, smiles as if in agreement, takes a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl; but he doesn’t believe it. Every instinct tells him that Tris is already here, waiting.
CHAPTER NINE
‘So that’s great,’ Tilly is saying to Sir Alec Bancroft. ‘Coffee tomorrow. Would you like me to pick you up?’
‘Oh.’ He seems surprised by her offer. ‘That’s very kind but I’m sure I’ll find it. You’ve given me good directions. But you’ll be there?’
‘Yes, of course. I want to see Hercules when he meets Bear. Well, I ought to dash off if that’s OK.’
Before he can answer there is a knock at the door and Sir Alec gives a little shrug of apology and goes out to answer it. Tilly hears him talking, a voice answering, and then he comes back.
‘It’s the curate,’ he says. ‘I think I told you about Clem, didn’t I?’ and he steps aside to allow Clem to come into the room.
Tilly isn’t prepared for a tall, lean young man with short gilt-fair hair and an attractive smile. She feels confused, almost indignant; he isn’t her stereotypical idea of a curate – though she isn’t sure what is – and he is casually dressed in jeans and an old Barbour jacket. Sir Alec introduces them and they shake hands. She suspects that Clem is amused by her confusion and she is relieved that Sir Alec has taken control of the conversation, talking about the retreat house, so that she can pull herself together.
‘I’m just going up to Chi-Meur,’ Clem is saying, ‘so I thought I’d drop in on the way to see how you’re getting on.’ He looks at Tilly and his eyes crinkle up teasingly. ‘How’s he doing with his database?’ he asks. ‘Has he got past the letter A yet?’
‘He is a complete technophobe, actually,’ Tilly answers, entering into the spirit of the thing, rather surprised at herself. ‘But you knew that already, didn’t you?’
Clem grins at Sir Alec. ‘He still uses a quill to write his letters,’ he says to Tilly. ‘Did he tell you? It was Rose who was the keyboard queen. She was terrific.’
Once again, Tilly is surprised. He talks about Rose with great affection and no sense of embarrassment. She glances at Sir Alec to see if the reference has in anyway upset him but he is grinning too.
‘Cheeky young devil,’ he says. ‘But it’s true. She’d got it all covered. Emails, Skyping, texting. But I’m coming on, aren’t I, Tilly?’
‘You know how to switch on and log in,’ she agrees.
‘And how many lessons has that taken?’ asks Clem. ‘Or shouldn’t I ask?’
Tilly laughs and then suddenly feels slightly shy. ‘I must
‘But there aren’t any tadpoles yet,’ says Ed. ‘It’s much too early. It’s only frogspawn.’
‘It’s just Tilly’s joke,’ says Billa. ‘Don’t ask. Let’s eat this before it gets cold.’
She spoons scrambled egg on to plates, with slices of crispy bacon, and the three of them sit together at the big slate table as they have so many times before. The dogs clamber on to the old, sagging sofa and settle comfortably as if they were still puppies. The kitchen is warm and peaceful, Bear begins to snore and Billa teases Ed about yet another hole in his jersey.
Dom remembers how the two of them welcomed him as their brother, accepted him so joyfully into their lives, and how happy they were until Tris arrived. He remembers Ed saying, ‘I hate him,’ and Billa weeping over Bitser’s death. He hears Tris’s words: ‘So you’re the bastard’… ‘Your mother was a whore,’ and he thinks: I can’t allow Tris to spoil what we’ve got now. Not again. I’ll kill him first.
‘Don’t look so grim, Dom.’ Billa is smiling at him, guessing his thoughts. She looks cheerful and confident and happy. ‘I really cannot see how Tris can do us any harm after all this time. He’s probably hundreds of miles away, bored out of his mind and thinking up ways of being his old tiresome self.’
Dom nods, smiles as if in agreement, takes a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl; but he doesn’t believe it. Every instinct tells him that Tris is already here, waiting.
CHAPTER NINE
‘So that’s great,’ Tilly is saying to Sir Alec Bancroft. ‘Coffee tomorrow. Would you like me to pick you up?’
‘Oh.’ He seems surprised by her offer. ‘That’s very kind but I’m sure I’ll find it. You’ve given me good directions. But you’ll be there?’
‘Yes, of course. I want to see Hercules when he meets Bear. Well, I ought to dash off if that’s OK.’
Before he can answer there is a knock at the door and Sir Alec gives a little shrug of apology and goes out to answer it. Tilly hears him talking, a voice answering, and then he comes back.
‘It’s the curate,’ he says. ‘I think I told you about Clem, didn’t I?’ and he steps aside to allow Clem to come into the room.
Tilly isn’t prepared for a tall, lean young man with short gilt-fair hair and an attractive smile. She feels confused, almost indignant; he isn’t her stereotypical idea of a curate – though she isn’t sure what is – and he is casually dressed in jeans and an old Barbour jacket. Sir Alec introduces them and they shake hands. She suspects that Clem is amused by her confusion and she is relieved that Sir Alec has taken control of the conversation, talking about the retreat house, so that she can pull herself together.
‘I’m just going up to Chi-Meur,’ Clem is saying, ‘so I thought I’d drop in on the way to see how you’re getting on.’ He looks at Tilly and his eyes crinkle up teasingly. ‘How’s he doing with his database?’ he asks. ‘Has he got past the letter A yet?’
‘He is a complete technophobe, actually,’ Tilly answers, entering into the spirit of the thing, rather surprised at herself. ‘But you knew that already, didn’t you?’
Clem grins at Sir Alec. ‘He still uses a quill to write his letters,’ he says to Tilly. ‘Did he tell you? It was Rose who was the keyboard queen. She was terrific.’
Once again, Tilly is surprised. He talks about Rose with great affection and no sense of embarrassment. She glances at Sir Alec to see if the reference has in anyway upset him but he is grinning too.
‘Cheeky young devil,’ he says. ‘But it’s true. She’d got it all covered. Emails, Skyping, texting. But I’m coming on, aren’t I, Tilly?’
‘You know how to switch on and log in,’ she agrees.
‘And how many lessons has that taken?’ asks Clem. ‘Or shouldn’t I ask?’
Tilly laughs and then suddenly feels slightly shy. ‘I must
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