Sweet Surrender. Catherine George
to see you later this evening when you were free.’
Did it really? ‘It wouldn’t have been convenient, Alasdair. Besides,’ she added frostily, ‘I’m told I’ll be seeing you on Sunday anyway.’
‘Ah. You don’t approve.’ The deep voice, with it’s hint of Edinburgh accent, was timber-dry.
‘It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘But if you don’t want me there, Kate—’
‘Why on earth shouldn’t I? We can have a nice chat about old times,’ she said sweetly.
‘I’d hoped to do that tonight.’ He paused. ‘I’m back in the UK for good, by the way. Promotion.’
Kate digested this in silence for a moment, then shrugged, unseen. Whether Alasdair lived in Britain, America, or on the moon, made no difference to her any more.
‘Congratulations,’ she said eventually. ‘Discovered a new wonder drug?’
‘Something like that. I’ll fill you in when we meet.’
‘Alasdair, I should have asked this sooner. Whose funeral was it?’
‘My grandmother’s.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you. I’ll miss her.’ He paused. ‘Kate, can we meet tomorrow?’
‘No can do. I’m driving home after lunch. Goodnight, Alasdair, I’ll see you on Sunday—’
‘Don’t ring off,’ he said, in a tone which put her on her guard. ‘If I wait until Sunday I probably won’t get you alone. And after seeing you again, Kate I’m more determined than ever to solve the mystery.’
‘What mystery?’ Though she knew well enough.
‘Oh, come on—you know what I’m getting at. You were the most brilliant physics student of your year at Cambridge, Katherine Dysart. What in hell happened to make you waste your talents on a village school in the back of beyond?’
CHAPTER TWO
KATE held on to her temper with difficulty. ‘Look, Alasdair, we went through this last time we met, and the answer’s still the same. I don’t consider it a waste. I’m a good teacher, and I get damned good results with my pupils. Nor,’ she added fiercely, ‘do I look on Foychurch as the back of beyond. It’s a friendly, thriving village community. Which suits me down to the ground. I’m a country girl born and bred, remember?’
‘I do remember. But that doesn’t answer my question, Kate. It was common knowledge that your tutor thought he had another Madame Curie in the making,’ Alasdair reminded her.
‘Then he was sadly mistaken,’ she snapped. ‘And now we’ve cleared that up, I’ll say goodnight.’
‘Kate, listen—’
‘Alasdair, I don’t want to listen. I’m tired. Goodnight.’
Kate liked to sleep with the curtains drawn back, and, in bed at last, she stared for a long time at the dense blackness of the country night sky, restless and wakeful after Alasdair Drummond’s probing.
Her older sisters, Leonie and Jess, had early possessed the self-confidence that matched their looks. So had Adam, their brother. But Kate, younger by several years and far less extrovert, had compensated for lack of confidence with a highly developed work ethos, coupled with a brain that had won her a place at Trinity College, Cambridge, to read Physics.
And there she had met Alasdair Drummond, a veteran of four years at Edinburgh University, and a year at Harvard, and, by the time she’d met him, engaged in research at Trinity. To her incredulous delight, after running into her on her first day Alasdair had taken Kate under his wing, a process which had boosted both her self-confidence and her appearance so rapidly she’d soon been besieged by so many of her male peers she’d been dumbfounded by all the attention. And hadn’t cared a bit for any of it, because she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Alasdair Drummond the moment they’d met.
Kate, too intelligent to deceive herself, had known from the start that the passion was one-sided. Alasdair, five years older in age and a lot more than that in experience, had made it plain he was fond of her, and had taken it on himself to protect her from male predators. But she’d had no illusions about his feelings for her. He had treated her like a kid sister, never as a potential lover. Trying hard to be content with the relationship, she’d cheered him on at rugby matches, felt passionately grateful when he’d taken her with him for a drink afterwards, and preened in secret because it had been taken for granted that they were a couple. But the nearest thing to physical contact with Alasdair had been an occasional—and brotherly—peck on the cheek.
Madly in love for the first time, Kate had eventually grown so frustrated her work had inevitably begun to suffer. Then suddenly, just before Alasdair had been due to leave Cambridge for his first job, she’d locked herself away in her room with only her books for company, pleading pressure of work. She’d refused to socialise with anyone, a mystified Alasdair Drummond included. And, though he’d left to work for an international pharmaceutical company soon afterwards, he’d made a habit of contacting Kate occasionally afterwards to check on her progress.
Then Alasdair’s job had taken him to the States, and communication between them had become rare. But, while visiting his grandparents in Gloucester on a trip to the UK, he had made time for a memorable visit to her home just before Kate started in her first teaching post. In response to his bluntly expressed disapproval of her choice of career she’d lost her temper completely, told him that what she did with her life was her own affair, not his, ended by ordering him out of the house, and had heard no more from him since—until his reappearance today outside school.
Alasdair Drummond, the brilliant research chemist Kate had known in the past, had risen with meteoric speed in his career; she knew only too well. And the combination of success and maturity, she thought irritably, was probably a terrific turn-on for most women. But not for her.
Kate’s phone woke her on the stroke of seven next morning, and she shot up in bed to grab it, breathless as she answered.
‘I obviously woke you up, Miss Dysart,’ said Jack Spencer with remorse. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she assured him. ‘Any news?’
‘John Spencer Cartwright arrived a few hours ago, yelling his head off and complete with a full set of everything. My sister’s in reasonably good shape, apparently—unlike Tim, who’s a gibbering wreck.’
Kate chuckled. ‘Thanks for letting me know. How’s Abby?’
‘On cloud nine because her mother talked to her on the phone the moment she could. Tim passed on your message, so Jules made very sure her special girl knew Mummy loved her to bits.’ Jack Spencer added, ‘My sister’s deeply grateful to you. On all counts.’
‘Only too glad to help.’
‘Miss Dysart, Abby tells me you’re going home for half-term?’
‘That’s right.’
‘When are you leaving?’
‘After lunch. I don’t have far to go. I’ll be home in time for tea.’
‘May I ask where “home” is?’
‘Stavely. About twenty miles from Pennington.’
‘I know it well. Great part of the world. Enjoy your holiday.’
‘I will. Thank you for ringing, Mr Spencer.’
Kate dressed, went downstairs to make breakfast, and afterwards tidied up the cottage. She packed her bags, then went next door to tell Mr Reith, her elderly neighbour, that she would be away for the week, checked that he still had her spare key, then accepted his offer of a cup of coffee and stayed chatting to him for half an