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  Sophie sat trying to recover from the shock. "You look far too young for

  Broad Oaks," she said, after a while.

  "Dad will be surprised."

  "David and I are not famous for seeing eye to eye about anything," said the lady who had been strongly opposed to her daughter's marriage to an impecunious young doctor thirty years earlier.

  "But in this case I think he'll agree I'm taking a very sensible step."

  "Why don't you come and live with us?"

  "David Gordon and myself under the same roof! Be realistic, child."

  Sophie agreed ruefully that her grandmother was right, then looked up as a car turned in at the gate. "Is this your estate agent, Grail?"

  "Ah, so it is." Cecily Wainwright smiled with pleasure as a man came across the lawn towards _them. He was only a little above medium height and looked rather thin to Sophie, who was used to the burly physique of the Gordon men.

  Sam Jefford had reddish hair and brown eyes which lit his fine-featured face with charm as he greeted Mrs. Wainwright, who introduced him to Sophie, and left the two young people together while she went indoors to make the tea.

  Sophie hid a smile, used by now to her grandmother's incessant matchmaking tendencies, and asked the visitor if he lived in Arlesbury.

  "I do, indeed. Above the shop now, in fact. I occupy a flat over my premises in Quay Street."

  "Right on the river? How lovely."

  "The place isn't really straight yet. I haven't been in the flat long."

  "You're new to the area, then?" commented Sophie.

  He looked embarrassed. 'No, not really. I used to live on the outskirts of the town. Had a house there, but I've just put it on the market. "

  "You're in the right line of business for that, then," said Sophie, hoping to put him more at ease. There was a silent pause, then she got up.

  "I'll pop in and help Grail. Shan't be long." She ran into the house to forestall Mrs. Wainwright's effort to heft a loaded tea-tray.

  "Hey--give me that. Ladies about to be institutionalised shouldn't go round carrying heavy loads."

  Mrs. Wainwright looked cross.

  "Why did you leave Sam alone?"

  "He seems a bit shy. I thought he'd be better if you came back."

  _"He's been going through a bad time, poor boy."

  "No. Divorced. Acrimoniously, if what I hear is true."

  "The Arlesford jungle drums?"

  Mrs. Wainwright gave her grandchild a withering look as she shooed her out into the garden, bringing up the rear with the cake-basket used for afternoon tea at Greenacre since time immemorial.

  To Sophie's relief Sam Jefford relaxed a little over tea, chatting easily as he praised the moist, crumbly fruitcake and light-as-air scones.

  "Wonderful," he said, as he accepted a second cup of tea.

  "Home-made cakes don't feature much in my life."

  "I trust you don't subsist on beans on toast," said Mrs. Wainwright disapprovingly.

  "I'm a take away man, I'm afraid." Sam Jefford changed the subject hastily by informing Mrs. Wainwright her house would be advertised next day, both in the newspapers and his office windows. “Sophie whistled.

  "So soon? Will it take long to sell, do you think?"

  He shook his head, smiling.

  "Five minutes, at a guess. Perfect decorative order, four bedrooms, idyllic garden and five minutes on foot from the golf-course. Can't lose."

  The talk grew general for half an hour or so, then the visitor got to his feet regretfully.

  "Time I was off, I'm afraid. Some homework to do. My secretary's only part-time these days. Pregnant, you know."

  He smiled at them.

  "You wouldn't _happen to know of an efficient secretary on the hunt for a job, I suppose?"

  Mrs. Wainwright's answering smile was sphinx- like.

  "It's just possible I might, Mr. Jefford. I'll be in touch with you."

  When she came back to Sophie after seeing the visitor off, Mrs. Wainwright sat down with an air of purpose.

  "Well?" she demanded.

  "Did you like him?"

  "He's very nice. Grail." Sophie grinned.

  "Matchmaking again?"

  Her grandmother failed to rise.

  "Never mind Sam Jefford. You're the one I'm concerned about, Sophie. I know how much you secretly long to do as all your friends have done, to leave home and gain your independence. Have a place of your own."

  Sophie shrugged.

  "Just pie-in-the-sky for me, Grail."

  "Not necessarily." Mrs. Wainwright gazed across the lawn, towards the.

  -massed shrubs and trees which marked the boundary of the property.

  "I've heard the tenants of Ilex Cottage are moving out shortly, you know.

  It's very small, and needs doing up, but if you fancy the idea I could arrange for you to have it. Of course, I know Arlesford is no more exciting than Deansbury, but at least it's somewhere different," she went on.

  "Now the boys are off your hands, Sophie, surely David can get a housekeeper and let you lead your own life at last."

  Sophie's eyes glistened at the mere thought. "Where is the place.

  Grail? "

  "In Church Row."

  _Sophie knew the house, the last of a row of what had once been almshouses near the church, in a narrow walk overhung with trees, and very, very private. She came back to earth with a bump. "Arlesford is thirty miles from Deansbury," she reminded her grandmother. Too far to commute. For me, anyway. "

  "Give up your job!"

  ,

  "I can't. Grail. Especially since Delphine's just walked out on Alexander--I couldn't do the same."

  "Nonsense. Secretaries are no more irreplaceable than brides." Mrs.

  Wainwright's mouth curved in a very smug smile.

  "Use your head, child. I rather fancy you wouldn't have to look far for a job in Arlesford, now, would you? Sam Jefford needs someone very soon, by the sound of it."

  Sophie thought furiously. The idea was tempting. Very tempting indeed. If she could just manage to break her father into the idea gently. Persuade him that her aim was independence rather than desertion. Then she'd be off and running. She shied at the thought of hurting him, but at the same time it was unbearable to think of letting such a golden opportunity slip away.

  "You could take whatever you wanted from here to furnish it," said Mrs.

  Wainwright coaxingly. "You must make the break some time, child.

  And, after all, if you decide to marry Julian one day, your father will have to let you go, won't he? "

  "Marry Julian?" Sophie shook her head emphatically.

  "No chance of that!"

  "I just don't understand your generation! If you _feel like that about him, why do you encourage the boy?"

  '"The boy" is thirty years old going on fifty, and needs no encouragement, I assure you," declared Sophie.

  "Julian Brett is perfectly happy in his museum, has private means from his mother, and if he wants to spend some of them on entertaining me now and then, who am I to complain? At the very least it means I occasionally eat something I haven't cooked!"

  "And I always thought the way to a man's heart was via his stomach," retorted Mrs. Wainwright. "How unromantic you are, Sophie!"

  "Yes, I know." Sophie slid down on her knees and buried her head in her grandmother's lap. "Bad-mannered, too," she said with a stifled sob.

  "I haven't even thanked you for giving me such a wonderful, wonderful present. And I am going to live in Ilex Cottage, I am, I am--somehow."

  "That's better," said Mrs. Wainwright huskily. "Now get up. Your tears are ruining my skirt."

  CHAPTER TWO

  'Cecily's going into a home? “Dr Gordon stared incredulously.

  "That's right." Sophie waved him towards the dinner-table.

  "Sit down or the food will get cold."

  "It would have been too much to expect her to consult me as to her choice, of course," he said acid
ly.

  "I am a doctor. In this one solitary instance I feel I might have been deemed sufficiently knowledgeable to advise her."

  Sophie chuckled.

  "How you two do go on. / suggested she came to live with us," she added wickedly, and laughed out loud at her father's expression.

  "Don't worry. Her reaction was very similar to yours."

  Dr Gordon was relieved enough to admit that his mother-in-law's choice of domicile was an excellent one, and changed the subject to talk of the Pagets and the debacle of the wedding that never was, giving it his opinion that

  Alexander, though undoubtedly better off without someone like Delphine, was nevertheless a great deal more shattered by her desertion than he had allowed anyone to see on that unforgettable day.

  "I'm sure he was," agreed Sophie.

  "How Delphine had the nerve to do it I don't know. I'd never have had the bottle."

  _"To leave someone waiting at the church more or less?"

  "Exactly. She wouldn't have been the first bride to change her mind, but at least she could have been civilised about it given Alexander time to cancel everything."

  Dr Gordon's agreement was wholehearted, and they spent the rest of dinner time talking about the twins' return home from their holiday in France, and their almost immediate departure again for Edinburgh.

  "It's going to be very quiet without them," said Dr Gordon pensively, and

  Sophie's heart sank as she cleared away. It hardly seemed the right time to broach the subject of Ilex Cottage.

  Later she brought out a pile of towels and bed linen waiting for name tapes, and began sewing at a furious rate while her father watched a documentary on television. It had been a wearing day at the office.

  Perry, who was Alexander's junior partner, had talked incessantly about

  Delphine's calumny, and by the time Sophie left for the day she was utterly sick of the subject. Fortunately she managed to leave on time and arrived home early enough to make her father's favourite casserole for dinner, with the idea of putting him in a receptive frame of mind for the news that she was contemplating leaving home.

  Sophie stitched and snipped, her mind going round and round in the hope of finding a painless way of stating her case. She glanced up at times to find her father equally preoccupied, staring into space rather than at the television, which probably meant Monday at the practice had been hectic, as usual. And every _so often Sophie stared into space herself, lost in dreams of the cottage in Arlesford, her eyes lambent with yearning as she imagined herself there, all on her own, with no one to please but herself. She could eat off a tray a practice much frowned on by Dr Gordon look at whatever programmes she liked on television. Perhaps not even have a set at all. She sighed heavily. If only there were some way of achieving her object all sublime, without hurting her father in the process.

  Sophie snipped off the thread on the last name tape and folded the last bath towel neatly on top of the pile, aware suddenly that the television was off and her father was staring at her with unaccustomed concentration. She tensed. What now? The look on her father's lined, distinguished face was unsettling.

  "Sophie," he said abruptly, 'have you any thoughts about marrying Julian? "

  There seemed to be altogether too much interest in Julian Brett from her loved ones all at once for Sophie's liking.

  "Julian's just a friend. Dad," she said firmly.

  "I go out with him mainly because he's not in the least interested in marriage." To her surprise her father, instead of looking relieved, looked even more troubled.

  "Something wrong. Dad?" she asked gently.

  Dr Gordon got up, pushed aside the pile of linen and sat down by Sophie on the couch, putting his arm round her and drawing her close.

  "Hey!" said Sophie, much alarmed by such unusually demonstrative behaviour.

  "What's up, Dad? Something wrong?"

  David Gordon drew in a deep breath, plainly _steeling himself to say whatever it was he had to say. "Sophie, I want you to know how much I appreciate what you've done for us all since your mother died. I know you gave up all thoughts of college and career to look after me and the boys ' " But I never had thoughts of college or a career! "

  He brushed this aside.

  "Nevertheless I realise what an effort you've made and I want we want to know that your place is with us always, for as long as you want it."

  We? Us? Sophie's eyes were like saucers.

  "What are you trying to say.

  Dad? "

  "I'm making a right hash of it," he said wretchedly, 'but I'm trying to break it gently that for some time now, pet, I've been thinking of getting married again. Now I don't want you to feel you're in the way or anything silly like that . . . "

  "Married?" breathed Sophie incredulously.

  He nodded unhappily.

  "But Kate and I agreed ' " You're going to-marry Aunt Kate? " screeched

  Sophie.

  Her father hugged her to him convulsively.

  "But it needn't make any difference, I swear. Please don't get upset, sweetheart."

  Sophie pushed him away, beaming all over her face.

  "Upset, you silly old thing! I'm thrilled to bits I think it's wonderful!"

  And she gave him a smacking kiss to prove it.

  Dr Gordon mopped his face with a handkerchief, letting out a sigh of relief.

  "That's why I asked if you intended marrying Julian, Sophie.

  You've been going out with him for so long, I wondered if you'd put _him off because you couldn't leave me. "

  "Oh, my beloved father, just wait until I disabuse you of any such ridiculous idea," said, Sophie almost incoherent with euphoria as she proceeded to tell him all about Ilex Cottage, putting him in the picture at long last as to how much she wanted a little place of her own.

  Sophie went round on a pink cloud all her own after hearing her father's news, unaffected even by the miniature mountain of dirty clothes which marked the homecoming of Matt and Mark.

  "It's wonderful news," she told Kate Paget over lunch at the Singing Kettle.

  "I can't think why you haven't got together sooner."

  Kate's humorous dark eyes were frank.

  "The time wasn't right. Your father wasn't over Louise. Not," she added quickly, 'that in one way he ever will be, I know. "

  Sophie assured Kate that Louise Gordon would have approved strongly.

  "Mother liked people to be happy."

  "So do I. Which, I may add, brings me to the subject of your proposed move."

  Kate's eyes twinkled.

  "People will think your wicked stepmother has turned you out in the snow!"

  Sophie giggled, then plunged into news of the cottage, and how she intended to paint and decorate it herself before taking on the job with Sam Jefford.

  "Grail made sure the job was mine the moment she heard about you and Dad, of course!"

  "Cecily's a born general but I'm very fond of her. She sent me flowers and a very graceful letter, which I thought was a very nice gesture since I'm marrying _her daughter's husband." Kate sobered.

  "Alexander's the one least likely to be overjoyed about your departure, I fancy."

  "Do you think so?" Personally Sophie doubted it. "I'll work a month's notice and train up my replacement. Unlike other ladies I could mention, I have no intention of leaving him in the mire!"

  Nevertheless, as the day of Alexander's return grew nearer Sophie's pink cloud gradually evaporated. She saw only too clearly that a man newly returned from a solitary holiday that should have been a honeymoon was unlikely to receive her resignation with joy, if only for the sheer inconvenience of replacing her. The day he was due back Sophie made a special effort with her appearance to boost her morale, and arrived at the office a good half-hour earlier than usual, only to find Alexander had beaten her to it. He was already installed in his office, going through the day's post.

  "You're back," she said idiotically.

  "Have you had a
good holiday?"