“It’s lovely!”

As she stepped over the threshold, Cathy glanced around the interior, puzzled disbelief marring her expression. “Is it a strain keeping up with the running costs of this place?”

“A strain?” Daniel made an effort to gather his thoughts. “No…no, I live pretty frugally….”

He should just tell her now and get it over and done with. Why was he finding it so difficult?

Daniel looked into Cathy’s sweet face. Fear—that was what it boiled down to. Fear of losing her. He knew that as soon as he revealed the extent of his wealth, things would change. Cathy was fragile, proud, defensive about her lack of money. She would look at the differences between them and think they were too wide, too vast. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want anything to spoil this wonderful beginning.

Laura Martin lives in a small Gloucestershire village in England with her husband, two children and a lively sheepdog! Laura has a great love of interior design and, together with her husband, has recently completed the renovation of their Victorian cottage. Her hobbies include gardening, the theater, music and reading, and she finds great pleasure and inspiration from walking daily in the beautiful countryside around her home.

Marrying a Millionaire
Laura Martin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

‘MUMMY, tell me about our new house again!’

Cathy placed the last of her cooking utensils into the large cardboard box and sat back on her heels, glad of the diversion. She had been up since first light, making sure everything was organised for the move, and felt absolutely exhausted, even though it was barely three in the afternoon.

‘Well, it’s old, and it has four little windows at the front which look out onto a narrow lane, and there’s a square of grass at the front and a much larger piece at the back…’

Robbie slid onto her lap and linked his arms around her neck. ‘Tell me about the tree!’

Cathy smiled, cuddling him close. ‘There’s an apple tree in the front garden, just below your bedroom window, and soon it will have fluffy white blossom on it and later on there will be apples which we’ll be able to pick any time we like.’

‘And no one will tell us off?’

‘No one will tell us off,’ Cathy agreed.

‘And we can pick the apples even if it’s dark?’

Cathy laughed and kissed her son’s cheek. ‘Yes, even then.’

‘I’m going to climb that tree, right to the top!’

‘We’ll see.’

A worried look flickered across Robbie’s young face. ‘And will there be friends for me to play with?’

‘Oh, yes!’ Cathy’s expression was deliberately reassuring, for she knew this was an aspect of the move which was worrying Robbie greatly. ‘There must be quite a lot of children in the village because they’ve got a lovely little school with a brand-new play area and a pond—’

‘And if I don’t like it we can come back here?’

Cathy pushed the curtain of fiery red hair back from her face and looked around the dismal kitchen, with its damp walls and cheap melamine units. If she had to endure even so much as another day in this box in the sky, then she felt she’d go stark raving mad.

She looked out of the window. From this position on the kitchen floor all she could see were grey lumpy clouds; there wasn’t a tree in sight—no buildings either, come to that. Cathy heaved a sigh. Presumably somebody somewhere had thought it clever to put people in boxes instead of houses, and stack them so high that the tenants could actually feel the building swaying in the wind, but she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why. A handy way of solving the housing problem, she supposed—except of course that living like this created more problems than it solved—far more.

Cathy thought of the graffiti and the litter and the smell which accompanied every journey to this, the twelfth floor; then she looked down at her son, snuggled on her lap. He would be able to read soon, and in no time the paint-sprayed words would begin to mean something and his sweet, mischievous innocence would be tainted before its time.

‘’Cos Dale says it’s really boring in the countryside,’ Robbie continued. ‘He says there are no shops and if you want sweets then you have to walk miles! He says—’

‘Well, when we’re settled in you can invite Dale over and show him how good the countryside really is, can’t you?’ Cathy announced, before Robbie could repeat any more of his friend’s little insights into country life. ‘Don’t worry, you’re going to absolutely love it, sweetheart,’ she told him with a cheerful smile. ‘We both are.’

Daniel turned the collar up on his jacket. Hell! It was cold. He really needed to get the heating system mended on the Land Rover; three weeks of freezing March winds was as much as he could take. He drove past the garage which looked as if it had been caught in a time warp, with its singular petrol pump and its pre-war signs advertising anything from chocolate to washing powder, and mentally vowed to book it in first thing in the morning.

It was quiet in the village this evening; several lights were shining in the row of old cottages which lined the green, but few people were braving the rain on this cold, raw evening. Damn! Must get the brakes looked at too. He pressed his foot down hard on the pedal and the Land Rover came to a halt—eventually. Daniel regarded the van which blocked the lane for a moment—a rental vehicle, by the looks of things. The back was up and there was a small quantity of furniture inside which was getting wetter by the minute. Not exactly the best of times to move house.

He glanced towards the cottage. A single bulb dangled dismally from the ceiling in the front downstairs room. He knew the house—he knew all the properties in the village. It was rather run-down, in need of a total overhaul. The place had character—provided, that was, you could overlook the rotten windowpanes and moss-covered roof, and sundry other things that were doubtless in need of repair.

He exhaled a breath, regarding the vehicle with irritation. The lane was blocked and there was clearly still a fair amount of moving in to do. He’d have to turn around and take another route, which was annoying, considering he was less than half a mile from reaching his destination.

A man appeared at that moment, hurrying down the path from the house, wearing baseball cap and worn denims and a short leather jacket which did little to protect him from the torrential rain. The youth—for he was barely twenty, Daniel saw as he came nearer—glanced across at the Land Rover and hurried over. Daniel wound down his window.

‘We’re going to be a little while yet, mate. Not much point in ’anging around.’ A hard, assessing gaze. ‘Not unless you fancy giving us an ’and, that is.’ The young man glanced back towards the house. ‘Truth is, I’m a bit lumbered here.’

‘Lumbered?’ Daniel followed his gaze, watching as another figure, dressed more appropriately in a long yellow mackintosh with hood pulled up, scurried down the path towards the van.

‘Yeah, I was let down by a mate.’ The man wiped the rain away from his eyes and turned his collar up, huddling into the inadequate protection of his jacket. ‘We’ve done most of the small stuff, but now we’ve got a bed to shift, and to be honest I don’t see how we’re going to do it.’

Daniel watched as the mackintosh-clad figure glanced towards his vehicle, then clambered up into the van and began to attempt to manoeuvre a bed towards the edge of the van.

‘Hey, don’t be stupid! You’ll do yourself an injury!’ The man’s voice rang out sharply in the damp night air. He glanced back at Daniel. ‘See what I mean?’ He swore sharply as the bed teetered dangerously, then jogged over to the van and hoisted himself up, issuing instructions in a harsh, irritated voice.

Daniel exhaled a breath, glanced around the interior of the Land Rover and retrieved a long, waxed raincoat, which had definitely seen better days, from amongst the mess and muddle in the back. It looked as if he was going to have to help, or be witness to a rain-soaked disaster that wouldn’t be fit to sleep on tonight.

The bed wasn’t particularly heavy, but it was awkward. All the more so with the seemingly willing but rather ineffectual helper in the yellow mackintosh getting in the way. Daniel lifted the bed to the edge of the van, then jumped down and helped the jacketed youth carry the item down the garden path and into the house.

The interior was gloomy, and rather cold, but far better than being out in the rain. Yellow Mackintosh led the way like a beacon of light, and between them Daniel and the other man manoeuvred the bed through the narrow hallway and up a short flight of stairs to a large bedroom with faded pink rosebuds and several large damp stains on the walls.

‘Thanks a lot. Just here will be fine.’

She sounded young and immensely grateful. Daniel wondered why the possibility of her being a woman hadn’t occurred to him before. He gave the yellow mackintosh more than a cursory glance, watching with interest as the shrouded figure pulled down the hood to reveal a riot of crazy auburn curls which were a stark and colourful contrast against the shiny yellow material.

The girl was an amazing and vibrant apparition amongst the drabness of the house. Daniel found his gaze drawn to the delicate complexion, to the flash of emerald eyes. His mouth curved with surprise and the girl’s mouth curved too, into a hesitant, shy smile. ‘This is very good of you,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t think we could have managed on our own, could we, Gary?’

‘Nah. There’s a couple more pieces.’ Gary raised questioning brows. ‘Any chance of giving us a hand with those, mate? Then I can clear out of your way with the van.’

‘Sure.’ Daniel nodded. His gaze returned towards the girl. She looked exhausted. ‘You might as well stay out of the rain,’ he told her. ‘No point in getting wet unneccesarily.’

‘Thanks.’ She managed another smile which, Daniel could see, involved some effort. ‘I’d better go and check on Robbie. He’ll be frightened if he wakes up and I’m not around.’

‘Robbie?’ The question was out before he realised.

‘My son.’ Steady green eyes met Daniel’s enquiring gaze. ‘He’s asleep in a chair downstairs.’ She glanced towards the youth. ‘Gary, if you could get his bed next, that would be really helpful.’

‘Yeah, OK, I’m doing my best.’ He scowled. ‘Can’t promise anything.’

It took another thirty minutes before the last of the furniture was off-loaded from the van. It had been a rather scant haul: a few pieces of heavy, mismatched furniture and jumbled possessions.

‘Thanks, mate. Couldn’t have done it without you.’ Gary let out a sigh of relief and proffered a somewhat grimy hand in thanks. ‘If there was a pub around here, I’d buy you a pint.’

‘There is, actually, but don’t worry.’ Daniel’s mouth curved into a perfunctory smile. ‘I’m on my way somewhere.’

‘You’re very wet. I’m so sorry we had to trouble you.’

He watched as she came into the front downstairs room. The mac had been removed to reveal ubiquitous, loose-fitting jeans and a baggy red jumper which clashed madly with her hair. In her arms was a child of about five or six, with silky brown hair and a cherub face. Daniel smiled. ‘He’s sleeping soundly.’

‘Yes, thank goodness!’ She glanced affectionately down at her son, then looked back at Daniel. ‘I know it’s not much, but would you like a cup of tea before you go? You’ve been so kind, helping us out like this. It’s the least we can offer.’

Her voice was a great attraction: soft and soothing with a hint of huskiness. The sort of voice that stayed in your mind long after any words had been spoken. Daniel gazed for a few moments at mother and child, then, realising he was in danger of staring, made an effort and collected his thoughts. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks. You’ve got your hands full enough as it is.’ He smiled briefly. ‘I’ll leave you both to settle in.’

‘And I’ll shift the van.’ Gary’s voice was rough and harsh, over-loud in the echoey emptiness of the room. The child stirred in the young woman’s arms.

‘He’s very tired. It’s been a long day.’ The girl inhaled a steadying breath as she wrapped the blanket more tightly around her son, bending her head to kiss the silky brown hair. ‘Goodbye, then.’ Her eyelids were heavy with sleep. ‘And thanks again.’

It was the strangest thing, Daniel mused as he hurried, head bent, through the still pouring rain to his Land Rover outside. Why on earth should he feel a compulsion to stay?

He opened the door and climbed in, waiting for Gary to move off in the van. He looked across at the uncurtained window. The house was dismal and cold. He thought of the girl and her son; presumably the two of them had some form of heating sorted out, but even so…

The van was moving. Daniel started his engine, allowed himself one last look across at the cottage, at the solitary light bulb swinging from the ceiling, realised suddenly that he didn’t know her name, then thrust the battered vehicle into gear and pulled away.

All Cathy wanted to do was sleep—impossible, of course, with so much to do, but that was always the way of things. She’d had so many restless nights recently, worrying about the move, frightened to death that she wasn’t doing the right thing, and now she felt dead on her feet.

She carried Robbie to the settee and settled him down beneath a pile of blankets; the mattress on his bed felt slightly damp, and she didn’t want to risk giving Robbie a chill. She placed gentle fingers against his rosy cheek to check his temperature. He was as warm as toast, which was more than she could say for herself, she thought, as a shiver racked her body.

There was a cold draught of air coming from somewhere. She walked out into the narrow hall to investigate. Typical Gary; he hadn’t shut the front door properly. She watched as he jogged back down the garden path. His trainers weren’t as white as when he’d first started the move, she noticed; he wouldn’t be pleased with that. ‘I’ll be getting back.’ He huddled beneath the dilapidated porch, unsuccessfully trying to shelter from the driving rain.

‘You don’t want something to eat or drink before you go?’ Cathy asked dutifully. She was relieved when he briefly shook his head. ‘Nah, I need to get the van back.’ He pulled back the cuff of his leather jacket and glanced down at his wristwatch. ‘Marty wanted it back before nine, and it’s gone that now.’

‘OK.’ Cathy leaned forward and kissed his cheek. ‘You’ve been a great help. Come and see me, won’t you, when I’m properly settled in?’

‘Yeah, I might if I’m at a loose end.’ He hesitated, glancing around into the gloom of the night. ‘Although, why anyone would want to live out here in this Godforsaken wilderness I’ll never know!’

‘It’s not a wilderness.’ Cathy smiled. ‘It’s a beautiful village; there’s a duck pond and a church, and a tiny shop which sells just about everything—’

‘Yeah, well, it’s your funeral…’ Gary lifted his sloping shoulders in a shrug. ‘Me—I’d go mad. And what about Robbie?’

‘He’s going to be fine about the move,’ Cathy replied, with more conviction than she felt. ‘Once he settles in, sees how much more enjoyable life can be in the country, he’ll be fine.’

‘Yeah! So you keep saying.’ Gary turned away, clearly uninterested. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you.’

‘Yes, bye!’ Her voice, she thought, sounded forlorn in the dark night. Cathy waited until the van had pulled away, then closed the door on the dark, rainy night, conscious, as the silence engulfed her, that the moment she had been waiting for had finally arrived.

She wandered back into the front room, her gaze skimming over the faded wallpaper and dingy surfaces. Funny how much better things seemed when the sun was shining and the birds were singing, and you were caught in the grip of excitement about the new start in life you were going to make.

She stood in the middle of the room and listened. It was so quiet. Nothing. Not the distant hum of traffic or the banging of car doors, or people shouting. Silence. It was going to take a bit of getting used to after the continual noise of the estate. Cathy inhaled a deep breath. Gary was right; Robbie was going to miss his friends. He had just started school, got used to everything, and she had whisked him away from all that was familiar to try and fulfil some crazy, hare-brained dream of living in the country.

She thought about the impromptu farewell her friends and neighbours had given her just before she’d left. It had been such a nice surprise. Everyone had gone to so much trouble: baking a cake, wrapping up some simple housewarming presents, telling her how much they were going to miss her.

She turned towards the kitchen to search for a bucket and mop. There was a piece of wrapping paper still caught around the handle and she picked it off absent-mindedly.

He had been so handsome…tall and muscular in comparison to Gary’s wiry frame…dark eyes, warm smile, large, capable hands…older than herself…Cathy reached into a box and pulled out a large bottle of cleaning fluid. Thirty, maybe…She turned on the hot tap and water splashed into the bucket; it was freezing cold. Such a relief when he had helped. She had been worrying about the move ever since Gary had turned up at the flat without his so-called mate. He had been on his way somewhere. A glimpse of a jacket beneath the old coat he’d worn, smart trousers, polished shoes. To visit a girlfriend, perhaps? Or just home from work, straight to a restaurant to meet his wife for dinner?

There was a restaurant on the green. Cathy had noticed it when she had first visited this place. It was very refined and expensive-looking, way out of her league—she could barely stretch to a bag of chips. Not that any of that mattered. She had moved here fully prepared for the struggle which lay ahead. Money was important, but only to the extent that she could pay her bills on time, earn enough so that Robbie was warm and clothed and well-fed. She knew she would have been better off staying in the flat in town—financially at least—but what about the quality of their lives? That mattered too, didn’t it?

She glanced down at the picture on the bottle in her hand: a gleaming sink, sparkling taps. She gazed at the grimy work surfaces in front of her and jerked into action. She would need to boil lots of kettles for hot water, then she’d begin upstairs in Robbie’s room. If she was lucky, by morning she might have the most important rooms cleaned and ready for habitation…

It was late. Daniel negotiated the narrow lanes with care, even though he felt like driving fast. That was what an evening spent with his parents did to him—or more particularly with his mother. He released an exasperated breath. When would she learn? More to the point, when would he? How many times had he fallen into the same trap? ‘Just a few friends round for dinner, darling. Can you come? Nothing too grand. I need another man to make up numbers. And besides…’—and this was where guilt always made him fall for it—‘…it’s been so long since we last saw you…’

The rain was still heavy, lying on the road in places, splashing up against the sides of the battered Land Rover as he turned right into the village once again. It was a ghastly night—not made any better by having spent almost three hours having to endure his mother’s unsubtle attempts at matchmaking.

Poor Lucy. Nice girl, as long as you were prepared to spend half the night talking about horses and the other half discussing the merits of various kinds of retail outlets—Harrods or Harvey Nichols? He replayed her voice in his head. Goodness, it really was so difficult to choose.

Daniel yawned, dragging a hand through his dark hair. Hell, he was tired. He glanced at the clock on his dash-board—almost eleven-thirty. He thought of his own place, situated in a quiet spot at the far end of the green. Nearly there. He hoped the fire would still be on—he’d banked it up well with wood before he’d left so it ought to be. A little relaxing music and a stiff drink before he hit the sack. Alone.

There was no doubt Lucy had been attractive. His mother, for some obscure reason, felt he had a penchant for long blonde hair and blue eyes. Daniel’s mouth curved into a smile. Not a bad guess. Trouble was, long blonde hair and blue eyes alone weren’t enough.

He needed something more—much more.

His mother had looked disappointed, as well she might given the trouble she had gone to. ‘Nothing grand’, she had said, but there had been enough crystal and Wedgwood on the endlessly long dining table to stock three antiques shops, and his father had looked predictably uncomfortable in his dinner jacket.

Daniel’s thoughts meandered back to the girl in the yellow mackintosh again. For some reason she had been in the back of his mind all evening. How old? Twenty-three, he guessed, roughly the same age as her partner, or husband, or whatever he was. Not a typical beauty, not like Lucy with her wide, blue eyes and perfectly shaped nose, or any of the other girls who had crossed his path during however many years it was of bachelorhood, but there had been something about her, some indefinable quality which had arrested his attention, something strangely appealing…

Daniel yawned again, wondering vaguely about her name as he approached her cottage. No van blocking the way this time—that was something. He glanced across. The lights were still on. Was she really still working? He remembered how tired she’d looked earlier in the evening, glanced at the clock on his dashboard to confirm the time, and for some unexplainable reason brought the Land Rover to a temporary halt in the lane outside.

He thought about getting out, about walking up the garden path and knocking on the front door. But he didn’t do it. If she were alone, as would seem quite likely, given that the van wasn’t anywhere to be seen, she’d hardly be comfortable about letting him in to the cottage at this late hour—she didn’t even know his name.

His thoughts flitted about. He felt curiously unsettled. Why did it bother him so much? Why did she? He found he wanted to help. There was clearly a lot of work to do in the cottage. It would surely be days before the place was properly habitable. He pictured the boy asleep in her arms, protected and warm, oblivious of the tired strain on his mother’s face.

Her hair had been like fire, such a contrast to the pale face and large green eyes. What could he do for her? Maybe she was struggling at this very moment with a heavy piece of furniture, or dealing with a burst pipe.

A light flicked on in an upstairs window and she came into view. She was carrying a bucket. She didn’t look tired, he decided, watching her face, just determined and purposeful.

Daniel shook his head, running a hand through his thick dark hair. He really was acting in a most peculiar manner. What on earth was he doing, lingering outside a strange woman’s house late at night? He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all evening, so it couldn’t be that.

He smiled a little, gave the figure at the window one last glance, then thrust his vehicle into gear and drove away.

CHAPTER TWO

‘CAN I have some sweets?’

‘You’ve only just cleaned your teeth.’

‘Don’t care! I want sweets!’

‘What about if we feed the ducks?’ Cathy bent down beside her son and pointed to the glimmer of water on the other side of the green. ‘There’s a pond over there, and I bet you there’ll be some ducks. Look!’ She held up a plastic bag. ‘I’ve brought the crusts from breakfast.’

‘Don’t want to feed the stupid ducks! I don’t like ducks! They’re just boring, and all they do is quack. I want some sweets!’

‘Robbie, please!’ Cathy frowned, adjusting the bobble hat on her son’s head. ‘Don’t be like this. Look, it’s a beautiful day. Have you ever seen so many daffodils? The sun’s shining, the birds are singing, and there’s a horse further up the green. Shall we go and look at that?’

‘No!’

Cathy stood up. She knew from bitter experience that there was little she could do when her son was in this sort of mood. He was tired, miserable and upset. She so much wanted to show Robbie everything, to share her enthusiasm for the green fields and wide open spaces, and the fresh, pure air, but if he wasn’t interested then there was precious little she could do about it.

She glanced at him now, stomping along beside her, not wanting to look about or hold her hand, not wanting to do anything. Too much to expect, she supposed. It was all too new and too strange.

‘What about if we spend some time feeding the ducks, then I buy you some sweets?’ Cathy suggested, after a moment. ‘What about that?’

‘OK.’ He sounded grudging.

Cathy smiled down at his pouting face. ‘Don’t worry, Robbie, you will like it here eventually; I promise you,’ she told him. ‘It’s just going to take a bit of getting used to, that’s all…’

Feeding the ducks was not the picture-book success Cathy had hoped it was going to be. Robbie accepted the bag of bread she offered him, tipped the contents into the pond, then turned to her and demanded to be taken to the sweet shop.

She almost made a point of denying him his treat—if they had still been at their old home she would have done—but as it was she didn’t want the day to go from bad to worse, and deep down she was afraid that Robbie was suffering and that it was all her fault.

The small shop was crammed full with every kind of provision. Cathy bought a few items for lunch, paid the amount due and handed Robbie a packet of jelly babies as promised.

‘Are you interested in a raffle ticket, my dear?’ The woman serving behind the counter smiled encouragingly. ‘All for a good cause, and you could end up winning tickets to the Spring Ball into the bargain.’

‘Oh…’ Cathy smiled and quickly scanned the poster the lady was pointing to, which advertised a grand ball and a country fair to be held over the same weekend. ‘I’m not sure…’ She glanced into her purse. ‘How much are they?’

‘Three pounds each—which sounds a lot,’ the woman added hurriedly, noting Cathy’s expression, ‘but if you win, it really is a spectacular night out. A real posh setting, with a quartet and a jazz band and some lovely food. It’s held up at the manor house—such a lovely place.’ The woman retrieved a book of raffle tickets from a shelf behind the counter.

‘There are only a few tickets left. New to the village, aren’t you?’ Cathy nodded, conscious of Robbie pulling furiously on her arm. ‘Well, it really would be a great way to meet all your neighbours—practically everyone from the village goes.’ She placed the raffle tickets conspicuously on the counter between them. ‘There aren’t any tickets for the ball left to buy. So this really is the only way you’ll manage to get there.’

‘I’ll have one.’ Cathy delved into her purse for the money. After all, she reasoned, three pounds wasn’t that much money—not these days—and buying a raffle ticket would sort of mark her entrance into the village. Besides, with Robbie threatening to play up she was more than anxious to be out of the shop.

‘That’s lovely!’ The woman, pleased with her sale, took Cathy’s money from her and wrote down her details on the ticket stub. ‘They always let me have a few pairs of tickets up at the house. I do a bit for the local old people; the proceeds from this will go towards their summer outing. Look after this raffle ticket, now!’ she called, as Cathy opened the door and a stream of sunshine flooded into the rather gloomy interior. ‘We’ll need that for proof of purchase if you win.’

Fat chance of that! Cathy thought as she left the shop. When have I ever won anything in my life before?

‘Cathy? Cathy Taylor, is that you?’ Cathy turned around, surprised that someone should be calling her by name. A young woman, about her own age, was walking towards her. ‘It is you! Goodness gracious! Well, you are the last person I expected to see here!’ The neat coral mouth curved into an attractive smile. ‘You’re looking well!’

‘Am I?’ Cathy smiled too, stalling for time.

‘Now, be honest, you haven’t a clue who I am, have you?’ The young woman laughed gaily. ‘I can see it in your expression!’

‘Well, no…’ Cathy smiled hesitantly. She glanced at the glamorous apparition before her, scanning her memory for possibilities.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not offended. In fact I think it would be worse if you did recognise me—I used to look dreadful at school. Fat with glasses and my hair in a frightful mess!’

The picture began to be a bit clearer. Cathy focused on the beautifully made-up face more closely. ‘Sandra?’ she queried. ‘Sandra Beale? We used to sit together in Maths.’

‘You’ve got it! So, how are you after all these years?’

‘Oh, I’m fine.’ Cathy managed a weak smile. She felt rather overwhelmed. It was difficult to take in that this gorgeous-looking woman was the same quiet, frumpy girl that no one had bothered much with at school.

‘I know what you’re thinking.’ Even white teeth flashed becomingly in the sunlight. ‘Such a metamorphosis, isn’t it?’ Sandra spread her arms wide, showing off herself to full effect. She was dressed elegantly in shades of cream and brown. Cathy’s gaze rested appreciatively on fitted jodphurs and a beautifully soft roll-neck pullover, worn beneath a chunky brown corduroy jacket. On her feet were a pair of supple, knee-length leather boots.

‘What happened?’ Cathy asked, trying not to imagine the sort of mess she must look in comparison. She had bathed in four inches of lukewarm water this morning, thrown on a pair of clean, but rather worn denims, and grabbed the nearest jumper to hand from the large cardboard box that was part of her wardrobe. It happened to be a dazzling assortment of multicoloured stripes and extremely large. Cathy pushed the sleeves up over her hands. With a purple woollen hat jammed on her bubbly red hair, she felt like a clown in comparison to Sandra’s tastefully clad figure.

‘Oh, I decided I was sick of being Little Miss Nobody. Amazing what you can do with a bottle of bleach, contact lenses, make-up and a few well-chosen clothes, isn’t it?’

‘You look…’ Cathy shook her head in admiration. ‘Stunning.’

‘Thanks!’ Sandra looked suitably pleased. ‘So what are you doing here? Visiting?’

‘Er…no. No, actually, I’ve…well, we’ve just moved in.’

‘Really?’ Sandra didn’t bother to hide her surprise. ‘Where?’

‘Stanway Cottage. It’s just past the last turning to the green, next to the tree which looks as if its about to fall down.’

‘You don’t mean old Mrs Payne’s place?’

‘Yes.’ Cathy tilted her chin slightly. There was a distinct note of incredulity in Sandra’s tone.

‘Good gracious. Have you bought it?’

‘No. I just rent.’

‘Oh, I see. She’s in a home now, isn’t she? I suppose her family are just biding their time.’

Cathy nodded. ‘Something like that.’

‘You said we,’ Sandra commented purposefully. ‘Are you married?’

‘Yes—umm, I mean, no. No, I’m not married, but I’m with someone.’ Cathy turned towards Robbie, who was engrossed in biting the heads off all the red jelly babies. ‘This is my son. Robbie…’ Cathy touched him on the shoulder. ‘Say hello to Sandra, Robbie. We used to go to school together.’

‘Hello.’ He looked up briefly, gave a formidable scowl, and then focused his concentration back on his packet of sweets.

‘He’s not usually as antisocial as this,’ Cathy explained. ‘But he’s a bit tired. We only moved in last night.’

‘Oh, he’s adorable!’ Sandra’s smile was bright—maybe just a little too bright, Cathy thought as she glanced at her fixed expression. ‘How old is he?’

‘Five. He’ll be six in a few weeks’ time.’

There was a slight hesitation. ‘So…it’s just the two of you, is it?’

Cathy nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right. What about you?’ she asked swiftly. ‘Do you live around here?’

‘Yes. Someone I used to…er…know died and left me his little place. He was a friend of the family.’

‘Lucky you.’ Cathy smiled. ‘I have no connections here whatsoever. I know it’s only a few miles out of town, but it might just as well be on the other side of the world. I remember visiting once on a school field trip, and then when I saw the advert in the local paper—’ Cathy stopped babbling. It was clear she no longer had Sandra’s full attention anyway.

‘I want to go!’ Robbie sounded bored.

‘Yes, in a minute, sweetheart.’ Cathy turned and followed Sandra’s gaze, curious to know what it was that had her so completely transfixed.

She couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, just the green and the trees and the narrow path which wound its way to the village store. There was an old lady on a bike with an empty shopping bag hooked over the handlebars, a young girl skipping alongside a mother with a pushchair, and a man walking alone. Actually, something about him looked vaguely familiar. Cathy looked more closely and her heart skipped a sudden, unexpected beat.

‘I want to go!’ Robbie had finished his sweets and was tugging impatiently on Cathy’s hand. ‘Stop talking!’

‘Robbie!’ Cathy frowned down at her son. ‘Don’t be so rude.’

‘I want to go!’ He pulled free from Cathy’s grasp.

‘Perhaps you’d like to call by some time,’ she suggested, but Sandra wasn’t listening. Cathy looked across and saw that the object of her desire was rapidly approaching. ‘Well, I must be getting back,’ she announced after a moment. ‘Come on, Robbie, let’s go and see that horse—Robbie?’

Cathy spun around wildly. She couldn’t see him. She scanned the area in front of the village store, the green, the duck pond where they had fed the ducks…

‘Oh no!’ Cathy dropped her bag of shopping and broke into a run. ‘Robbie!’ she cried. ‘Don’t go any closer! Robbie!’

He was at the water’s edge, stepping off the path and treading carefully down the side of the bank. There had been a lot of rain last night, so it would be very slippery. Cathy ran towards him as fast as she could, wondering how he had got away from her so quickly.

There was a cry, and she watched as he fell, sliding down the bank with a whoosh and ending up in the water. Cathy ran faster, aware out of the corner of her eye of other movement from the far side of the green.

He was crying when she got to him. He had managed to get to his feet, but he was standing in about six inches of water and looking very miserable and frightened. ‘Robbie!’ Cathy held out her hand and tried to sound calm, despite her thudding heart. ‘Come on. Take my hand.’

‘I can’t!’

‘I’m not cross with you.’ She very carefully placed her feet at the edge of the water. ‘Come on, sweetheart.’ He was sinking. Cathy stared in horror as the top of his wellington boots began to let in water. ‘Robbie, stay still!’ she instructed. ‘I’m coming to get you!’

Cathy stepped in. The water was cold and sludgy, but she didn’t care. She stretched forward and lifted Robbie out of the pond. It was a struggle, and for one awful moment, she thought she was going to fall, but after a distinctly wobbly moment she managed it.

‘Sandra, will you take him from me? I think I’m stuck now.’ Cathy held Robbie out towards Sandra, who was standing at the edge of the bank. ‘Sandra?’ she repeated, feeling the ache in her muscles as she struggled to hold Robbie clear of the water and keep herself in an upright position.

‘I don’t think I can reach.’ Sandra made a tiny movement and gingerly ventured near to the water. ‘My boots…’ she murmured. ‘They’re brand-new. Can’t you come a bit closer?’

‘No!’ Cathy inhaled a breath. ‘For goodness’ sake—!’

‘It’s OK. I’ll take him from you.’

Cathy glanced to her right and saw the man from the previous evening. Oblivious of the fact that his boots were ankle-deep in mud, he took Robbie from her aching grasp.

‘Oh, thank you!’ Cathy had never felt so relieved to see someone take her son from her. Her arms were aching madly, and, as she had suspected, she was now stuck fast.

‘Wait a moment and I’ll come back for you.’ The man set a tearful Robbie down on the path and ruffled his hair. ‘Don’t cry,’ he told him gently. ‘You’re out now.’

‘But what about Mummy—?’

Cathy frowned as Robbie began to cry in earnest. ‘I’m all right, darling!’ she called. ‘Just a bit stuck, that’s all.’ She tried to look cheerful, wondering at the same time how in the world they had managed to get themselves in such a pickle.

‘Can you move at all?’

Cathy struggled to lift a leg. ‘No,’ she replied flatly. A crowd had begun to gather now. Cathy had never felt more ridiculous in the whole of her life. She looked across at Robbie and managed a cheerful smile, which she hoped masked some of the embarrassment she was feeling.

‘Don’t cry, champ!’ The man crouched down in front of Robbie, who was becoming more and more upset. ‘Mummy will be out in a flash.’

‘You’re going to ruin your clothes,’ Cathy warned, feeling incredibly foolish as her rescuer began wading out towards her.

‘They’ll wash,’ he responded, with a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry about it. Now take my hand…’

He had a long reach, and a sureness of foot that Cathy wished she possessed. She placed her hand in his, felt the strength of his fingers as they closed around hers and in a moment she was free and being hauled away from the muddy water.

He really was akin to a knight in shining armour, Cathy thought afterwards, when she and Robbie were safely standing on dry land again. Twice now he had come to her aid…

‘OK now?’

He had the most glorious smile. Cathy inhaled a ragged breath and nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you. Thank you very much,’ she repeated. ‘I don’t know what we would have done without you. I’m so sorry we’ve put you to this much trouble. What with getting so wet last night and now this…’ She glanced down at his sodden boots and mud-splattered denims. ‘You have ruined your clothes,’ she murmured. ‘I’m so sorry—’

‘There really is no need to keep apologising. Think nothing of it. I’m glad I was around to be of assistance.’ Cathy looked into his face and felt a sharp, delicious pang as his eyes sparkled good-humouredly. ‘It’s certainly livened up this Saturday morning, and one thing is for sure: you won’t forget your first morning in Langforde.’

Cathy grew warm beneath her striped clown jumper. He was so handsome: dark, dark eyes, long spiky lashes, an angular jaw, and a mouth that revealed so much good humour it made her want to smile just looking at him.

He was dressed perfectly too. Definitely an outdoor type, Cathy thought: rugged and strong-looking, clad in the denims and a worn leather jacket with a plaid scarf wrapped casually around his neck.

‘Do you two know each other?’ Sandra, who had been looking disgruntled by the whole episode, piped up suddenly.

‘Yes. Well, sort of…’ Cathy smiled brightly, conscious of the flush of heat still rising from her neck.

‘I helped Cathy and her friend move a few things into her cottage.’

‘Oh! I see.’ There was a pause whilst Sandra assimilated this information.

‘Well, Robbie and I had better be getting back!’ Cathy announced. ‘Oh!’ She glanced over towards the village shop. ‘My shopping.’

‘I’ll get that for you.’ Sandra, clearly feeling the need to show she wasn’t totally useless, hurried over towards Cathy’s things.

‘Well!’ Cathy looked up into wonderful dark eyes and struggled to think of something vaguely sensible to say. ‘Robbie seems none the worse for his adventure!’ She looked down at her son, who had stopped crying and was now standing in his muddy socks, tipping the water out of his wellington boots. ‘I don’t know your name,’ she added suddenly. ‘I’m Cathy,’ she said hurriedly, conscious that she had spoken without thinking, ‘and this is Robbie.’

‘Daniel.’ His gaze was steady and direct. He held out his hand and smiled. ‘Very pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ Cathy shook his outstretched hand. His grip was firm and reassuring, and managed to do strange things to her insides. His voice, she thought. That was another thing which just made her want to melt. She glanced across at Sandra and saw that she was approaching with her shopping. ‘She’s very attractive, isn’t she?’

He looked briefly. ‘Yes. Very.’

Why had she said that? Talk about emphasising the differences between them! Cathy speculated on her own ragged appearance and cursed silently. Was she mad?

‘Thanks!’ Cathy took the shopping from Sandra and checked inside the bags to make sure her purse was still there. It had all the money she possessed in the world, which wasn’t much, but if she lost that…The words ‘destitute’ and ‘disaster’ sprang to mind.

‘I’ll walk back with you.’

‘Oh, surely there’s no need for that!’ Sandra’s voice sounded a little strained. ‘I mean,’ she added, glancing apologetically in Daniel’s direction, ‘I could give you both a lift in my car.’

‘That’s very nice of you.’ Cathy smiled gratefully. ‘But we’re very grubby. I wouldn’t want to ruin the interior, and besides, you’d have to go and get it and…’ She shook her head decisively.

‘Sandra doesn’t live too far from the shop,’ Daniel explained. ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be that much trouble.’

‘Well, actually…’ Sandra looked a little anxious now, presumably at the prospect of her car being used as a taxi for two not very clean individuals. ‘I am just about to go out.’

‘That’s settled, then!’ Cathy didn’t want to accept help from anyone who wasn’t happy about giving it. ‘We’ll walk. Robbie and I will be perfectly all right. It’s just a little water and mud.’ Cathy glanced down at her legs. ‘Well, perhaps a lot of water and mud,’ she added lightly. ‘Either way, it’s not going to harm us to walk home.’

‘In that case you will have me as a companion.’

Cathy looked into Daniel’s face and recognised the expression of someone who could be as stubborn and determined as she was. He took the bags of shopping from her grasp. ‘Maybe Robbie would like a shoulder-ride? His feet might get quite sore in those boots.’

‘Yes! Yes!’ Robbie brightened up immediately. ‘Can I, Mummy? Please?’ He wrapped his arms around her legs. ‘I’m sorry I went in the pond. Can I have a ride up high?’

‘Well…’ Cathy frowned across at Daniel. ‘You’ll get even dirtier.’

‘I think I’m going to need a shower anyway—a bit more mud won’t make much difference.’

The walk back to the cottage felt almost surreal—as far as Cathy was concerned anyway. It was like…She hesitated, not wanting to use such a word, even in the privacy of her own mind. Silly. When had ‘family’ ever meant anything other than Robbie and herself? She glanced up at Daniel, who was in deep conversation with her suddenly very chatty son, and inhaled a steadying breath.

No wonder Sandra was smitten—what girl wouldn’t be? Cathy visualised Sandra’s crestfallen expression as Daniel had announced his intention to walk her and Robbie home and wondered how close Daniel and she were.

They arrived back at the cottage far too quickly. Daniel lowered Robbie gently to his feet and waited whilst Cathy unlocked the front door. ‘You’ve been very kind.’ She took the shopping bags which Daniel held out to her and smiled. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure.’ He couldn’t keep from looking into her face. She was so…not beautiful exactly, but arresting. So different, with her pale, pale face and crazy red hair and the most gorgeous green eyes Daniel had ever seen. He thought frantically for something sensible to say. ‘If you ever need anything else…’ He smiled, conscious of his own inadequacies, which was strange because usually he had no trouble talking to women. No trouble at all…

‘I hope there won’t be any more calamities! Although with Robbie around anything can happen!’ She grinned. ‘He looks so angelic too—don’t you, scamp?’

‘He’s great.’ Daniel gazed at the small boy, who was now on his hands and knees watching intently as a bumble bee buzzed its way in and out of some daffodils which were struggling through the undergrowth near to the front door. ‘Is Robbie starting school on Monday?’

‘Yes.’

There was a pause.

‘Are you alone here?’

‘Alone?’

He saw her frown and realised the stupidity of his remark, but decided to persevere anyway. ‘You have Robbie, of course, but—’

‘It’s not really any of your business, is it?’ She reddened as she spoke, but she looked fierce suddenly, and somehow more vulnerable than ever.

‘I didn’t mean…’ He inhaled a steadying breath. ‘I didn’t mean to pry,’ he finished. He raised his hand in a gesture of apology. ‘Sorry. You’re right. It is none of my business—’

‘No!’ Cathy released a breath as he began to turn away. ‘Please, it’s me who should be apologising. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Thank you…for what you did. I…’ Her voice trailed away. ‘Thank you,’ she repeated anxiously.

‘Well, you two need to get cleaned up.’ He saw at once that she felt awkward, and that it would be better if he departed. ‘I’ll no doubt see you around the village.’

‘Yes…I…expect so.’

She hadn’t said ‘hope’. I hope so. He knew he was being ridiculous. What did it matter?

Daniel smiled briefly, said goodbye to Robbie, then turned away from the dilapidated cottage, conscious that something strange was happening to him.

He thought about her for the rest of the day, picturing snapshots in his mind: the way she had looked, stranded in the mud with her son in her arms, her smile, the vulnerability of her expression on that first evening at the cottage when she had looked so tired and somehow strangely alone. Her expression in that last moment of seeing her, almost as if she had wanted to cry…

He dwelt on the image long into the night. He accepted an invitation from friends and found himself thinking about her between lulls in the conversation. One of the group, a beautiful woman, a friend of a friend whom he saw from time to time, even commented on his lack of attention when they were sitting around the dining table in the expensive restaurant on the green. ‘You look thoughtful,’ she murmured playfully as she sipped her coffee. ‘Something on your mind?’

‘Not something, someone!’ Joe, another old friend, who had drunk too much wine and had a house almost opposite on the far side of the green, grinned inanely. ‘I saw you this morning! Playing Sir Galahad to that colourful woman with the little boy!’ He turned to the others assembled around the circular table. ‘Honestly, it was a picture to warm the cockles of your heart! Mind you, Sandra the Sexpot didn’t look too pleased to be left on her own!’

‘You could be in serious trouble, Daniel!’ someone else remarked laughingly. ‘She won’t chase after you any more.’

‘Oh, I think he’s safe enough,’ Joe continued. ‘From what I gather she’s just as determined as ever she was.’

‘Shut up, Joe, and drink some more coffee!’ Daniel’s voice revealed an uncharacteristic edge of anger. He rose to his feet, conscious of the surprised looks from around the table. ‘It’s been a long day. I think I’ll have an early night.’ He glanced down at the woman at his side. ‘Do you want me to take you home?’

He saw her expression and knew she had expected a rather different ending to the evening. ‘No, it’s all right,’ she replied stiffly. ‘It’s too early yet. I’ll get a taxi.’

He took the long way round, avoiding her cottage. The detour would add several minutes to his journey, but what did that matter? The fresh air would help to clear his head anyway.

He wondered what she would be doing on this Saturday night. Cleaning again? He hoped not. He pictured her hands, remembering the short, unvarnished nails and faintly callused palms. There had been no ring. Did that mean…? Not necessarily. Daniel pictured the man with his short jacket and tattooed hands and found that he didn’t want to believe that they were together.

Cathy had just put Robbie to bed when the doorbell rang. It made her start. She stood for a moment in the kitchen, wondering who it might be, half hoping that it was Daniel, so that she could apologise. She had acted so ungratefully. She really didn’t know what had come over her. Cathy ran a shaky hand through her hair and walked towards the front door.

‘Sandra…!’ She told herself she was foolish to feel so disappointed.

‘Hello, Cathy! I was passing and I saw the light…’ Sandra glanced beyond Cathy into the hallway. ‘Are you busy?’

‘Er…no.’ Cathy pictured the mess in every room. ‘Come on in!’ She held the door open wide and Sandra walked past her into the gloomy hall. She looked so out of place, dressed as she was in an immaculate navy blue dress and strappy shoes, that Cathy was moved to warn her not to get too close to the walls. ‘I haven’t had a chance to clean everywhere yet,’ she explained. ‘They’re probably not too bad, but your dress looks very expensive and I wouldn’t want you to ruin it on my account.’

Sandra’s smile as she made her way through into the living room changed to one of undisguised horror. It’s not that bad! Cathy thought irritably. She glanced around the kitchen, which she had scrubbed clean. OK, so it was a bit tatty, but even so…

‘How did you get on, after your little escapade this morning?’ Sandra examined a chair carefully before she sat down. ‘No lasting damage, I hope?’

Cathy smiled. ‘None at all! In fact I think Robbie’s rather pleased with himself—he’s turned it into some kind of adventure. Would you like some tea?’

‘Umm…no, thank you. I can’t stay long; I’m on my way somewhere.’

‘You look very nice,’ Cathy remarked sincerely. ‘I love your dress.’

Sandra glanced down at herself. ‘Thanks.’ She hesitated. ‘So…did Daniel stay long this morning, after he’d walked you and Robbie home?’

Ah! Cathy thought. Now they were at the crux of the matter. She glanced across at Sandra’s deliberately indifferent expression and knew it would be cruel to tell her anything other than the truth. ‘No, he didn’t even come inside.’

‘Oh!’ The relief on Sandra’s face was clear for all to see.

‘He’s very handsome, isn’t he?’ Cathy remarked in conversational tones.

‘Yes.’

‘Is he married?’

‘No.’ Sandra shook her head decisively. ‘I don’t think he’s ever come remotely close.’

‘But he must have a girlfriend.’ Cathy smiled. ‘I would have thought he’d be snapped up straight away.’

‘Not at the moment—at least nothing serious. And that’s the main thing, isn’t it?’ Sandra glanced across at Cathy and added, somewhat pointedly. ‘Of course, like all men, he’s more than happy to have a fling with someone, but when it comes to anything long-term he’s incredibly choosy. He wouldn’t get seriously involved with anyone who didn’t match up to his high standards.’

‘Really?’ Cathy didn’t bother to hide her amusement. ‘You seem very knowledgeable on the subject.’ She decided to get straight to the point. ‘Have you and he…?’

‘No.’ Sandra’s voice was undeniably flat. ‘No,’ she repeated, with a little more vigour. ‘Unfortunately not. However, I live in hope.’

‘He’s extremely good with children,’ Cathy commented, more for something to say than anything else. ‘Robbie took to him straight away. I’ve never seen him so chatty with such a comparative stranger.’

‘Yes…well, he’s very…’ Sandra struggled to come up with the right word. ‘Amenable,’ she said finally. ‘Always willing to help those in need.’

Meaning me, Cathy thought.

Sandra glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Well, this was just a flying visit; I really must be going. I’m meeting someone for dinner—not a patch on the delicious Daniel, of course, but I never like to refuse an invitation, especially if it means a free meal into the bargain!’

Cathy made no comment. She began to see that Sandra’s reincarnation from frumpy schoolgirl to glamorous siren had not been the complete success she had first imagined.

At the front door, Sandra paused briefly. ‘Daniel’s a very kind person,’ she reiterated. ‘And of course there’s the rebel element to consider as well.’

Cathy wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about, but she smiled and said cheerfully, ‘Quite a combination, I should think!’

‘Exactly. But it’s just as well to be aware of these things from the beginning. There really is nothing worse than making a fool of yourself over a man, is there?’

And with that rather ironic comment hanging in the air between them, Sandra walked out into the night.

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