He wasn’t afraid to use it either. To her dismay, Janey realized that the play was billed as a comedy. All James had done so far was buy her a gin and tonic prior to curtain-up, and he’d laughed five times already. Everyone was turning to stare. One poor woman, standing unsuspectingly with her back to him, was so startled by the incredible noise that she’d spilled her drink down her blouse. It was a loud laugh that erupted abruptly, exploded out of all control and didn’t know when to stop. If James Blair had wanted to forewarn her about it in his letter, he could have described it as: Bleugh-huuu ... eek ... bleugghh-huuu ... eek eek eek ...

blaaaahhhuuuhuuu ... eek. Now she was stuck with it for the next ninety minutes at the very least. She didn’t know which was worse, the sound of the laugh or the curiosity and barely concealed amusement of every other theatre-goer within earshot.

I’m a shallow, spineless person, Janey reprimanded herself, and James is probably a very kind man. Just because he doesn’t laugh like other people, there is absolutely no reason at all to wish I was anywhere in the world but here.

But it was no good. James was still laughing, people were still staring and the play, now due to start in less than three minutes, was described in her programme as ‘rip-roaring, rib-tickling, fun, fun, fun!’

‘Marvellous play,’ declared James, taking her arm in order to steer her back towards the bar when it was over. ‘I can’t remember when I last enjoyed myself so much. Didn’t you think it was marvellous, Janey?’

‘It’s awfully late.’ Damp patches of perspiration had formed under Janey’s arms; she could feel them as she glanced at her watch. ‘I really think I should be making a move.’

‘Oh, but I told my sister we’d meet her for a drink after the show. You can stay for another ten minutes, surely?’

He looked so crestfallen she hadn’t the heart to refuse. He wasn’t her type, but he was undeniably decent.

‘OK,’ she heard herself saying out of sheer guilt, ‘just a quick drink. Then I’m afraid I really will have to leave.’

‘Jolly good!’ James beamed, his boyish face alight with such enthusiasm that she felt guilty all over again. If she hadn’t been feeling so ashamed of herself she would never have allowed him to slide his arm in a proprietorial manner around her waist. ‘What’ll you have then, a quick gin? Or a slow one? Sloe gin ... geddit? Bleugh-huuu . . . eek... bleugghh-huuu ... eek eek ...’

Janey could have died on the spot when she saw Guy Cassidy ahead of her at the bar. All evening she’d been consoling herself with the thought that at least she hadn’t bumped into anyone she recognized. It might be shallow and spineless of her, but it was a comfort nevertheless. Or it had been, up until now.

‘Hello, Janey.’ Breaking off his conversation with a balding middle-aged man, he turned and smiled at her. Perspiration prickled once more beneath her arms and down her spine as for a fraction of a second his gaze flickered to James, still caught up in the throes of his own unfunny joke.

Feeling sicker than ever, because he was also bound to relay every detail to Maxine, Janey made an effort to return his smile. ‘Guy, what a surprise!’

‘I know,’ he replied with mock solemnity. ‘I don’t make a habit of visiting the theatre but I’d heard such great things about this production ...’

‘What he means,’ explained his balding companion, ‘is that he was dragged here against his will because we’ve been friends for years and I happen to be the play’s director. I told him he had to suffer first if he wanted dinner afterwards.’

Guy grinned. ‘I felt like a girl out on a blind date.’

Janey felt herself go scarlet. James, who had been listening to the exchange with interest, guffawed. ‘Like a girl out on a blind date? Oh I say, that’s jolly funny, bleughhuuu ... eek eek eek ...’

‘Why don’t you like me?’ said Serena suddenly.

Guy was upstairs saving goodnight to Josh and Ella. Maxine, who was busy stuffing clothes into the washing machine, hadn’t even realized she was no longer alone in the kitchen. She looked up, surprised.

‘Who says I don’t like you?’

‘I’m not stupid,’ said Serena calmly. Pulling out a chair, she sat down and examined her perfect fingernails. Maxine, who thought that anyone capable of spending one and a half hours buffing and manicuring their nails had to be stupid, didn’t reply.

‘Is it envy?’

‘I don’t dislike you,’ Maxine protested, because the situation was bordering on the embarrassing. She half smiled. ‘And no, I’m not envious. I’ve always liked being five feet six and blond.’

‘I’m used to being envied for my looks.’ As if to prove it, Serena ran a hand through her sleek dark hair then fixed her unswerving gaze on Maxine, who was still kneeling on the floor with a box of Persil in one hand and an armful of Ella’s socks in the other. ‘But that isn’t what I meant.’ Slowly she added, ‘I’m talking about Guy.’

‘Guy!’

‘He’s an attractive man,’ Serena smiled slightly. ‘Please, Maxine. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed.’

‘And you think I’m jealous because you’re living with him,’ cried Maxine, outraged. This was too much. Of course Guy was attractive, but the fact that she had been secretly lusting after him for weeks didn’t even enter into it. If Serena hadn’t been so distant and stand-offish from day one, things might have been different. If, Maxine thought crossly, she’d made even the slightest attempt to fit in, it might have helped – regardless of her own small crush on Guy. But Serena, it appeared, had eyes only for Guy and no interest at all in either his children or herself.

Maxine knew only too well that she wasn’t the most likely nanny in the world but she’d grown extremely fond of Josh and Ella, who were friendly, cheerful and endlessly entertaining.

Serena’s persistent and total disregard for them, she now felt, was downright weird.

‘Yes, I think you’re jealous.’ Serena picked up and investigated a half-full cup of tepid coffee.

If she asked me to make a fresh pot, thought Maxine, she’ll get it over her head.

‘Well you couldn’t be more wrong!’ she snapped back. ‘OK, he might not look like Quasimodo, but as far as I’m concerned Guy Cassidy is irritable, moody and not a great deal of fun to work with. I came here because I wanted to stay inTrezale and I needed a job.’ Shovelling the last of the laundry into the washing machine – which ran a lot more smoothly now that her spare set of car keys had been removed from the outer drum – she added crossly, ‘And if I was really interested in chasing after your boyfriend, you’d know about it.’

Serena merely raised an immaculate eyebrow. ‘No need to lose your temper,’ she observed, her tone mild. ‘Maxine, I don’t want us to be enemies. What I’m trying to say is that if you are interested in Guy, I can understand that. Personally, I’d be amazed if you weren’t.’

‘Well I’m not,’ lied Maxine. Serena sounded like a benevolent schoolmistress; the urge to act like a five-year-old and stick out her tongue was almost overwhelming.

‘All right.’ Serena, looking more tolerant then ever, said soothingly, ‘We’ll leave it at that then, shall we? ‘I truly didn’t mean to upset you, Maxine; all I was going to say was that if you were hoping some kind of relationship might develop, well ... I’m afraid it isn’t really on the cards.’

This was getting crazier by the minute. Maxine, shaking with suppressed rage, spoke through clenched teeth. What?’

‘I discussed the matter with Guy,’ explained Serena, unperturbed. ‘He told me that you absolutely weren’t his type.’

Chapter 22

The cliff path leading down to the cove was stony and narrow but worth the effort. The beaches at the heart of Trezale would, at eight o’clock in the evening, still be overrun by holidaymakers, whereas Shell Cove, on the outskirts of the town, was virtually empty. Few people could he bothered to stray the mile or so from the shops and bars; fewer still could face the prospect, at high tide, of clambering back up the steeply sloping track to the road at the top of the cliff.

Which was really just as well, thought Janey, since it enabled Maxine to rant and rave as loudly as she liked without fear of alarming the tourists.

‘... so Serena said, "We’ll say no more about it,"‘ Maxine spat furiously, continuing the monologue which had started 300 feet up, ‘and walked out of the kitchen. I had plenty more to bloody say about it, I can tell you!’

‘But you couldn’t tell her so you’re telling me instead.’

They had reached the bottom; rocks and crumbling gravel gave way to fine dry sand. Janey removed her shoes and wiggled her toes in its delicious warmth.

‘Damn right I’m telling you,’ said Maxine, pushing her hair away from her face with an indignant gesture. ’It’s the only way to make sure I don’t explode. The bloody nerve of that woman!’

‘She was right, though.’ Janey, who hadn’t completely forgiven her sister yet for barging into the flat the other week, couldn’t resist pointing it out. ‘You are after Guy.’

‘Not any more.’ Maxine’s dark eyes glittered with disdain. Then, catching Janey’s sidelong glance, she added forcefully, ‘And it isn’t because Serena says he isn’t interested, either. I wouldn’t have anything to do with a man who had anything to do with her. I can’t for the life of me imagine what he even sees in her, anyway.’

‘We’ve been through this before,’ Janey pointed out. ‘Perfect face, perfect body ...’

‘Oh that!’ Maxine threw her a look of derision. ‘Physically, she’s perfection on a sodding stick. But mentally she’s nothing, no personality whatsoever. Half the time it’s like trying to hold a conversation with a bowl of fruit.’