‘She did mashed potato with real potatoes, too,’ offered Josh.

‘And washed my hair,’ Ella put in helpfully, ‘without getting shampoo in my eyes.’

Janey was threatening to smile. Guy, glancing around the kitchen and counting on his fingers, continued the list.

‘And she’s made a chicken casserole. And she’s ironed my denim shirt. And she’s managed to tear Josh away from his Gameboy without even having to handcuff him to the kitchen chair ..

Josh, ever-hopeful, said, ‘And she’s promised I can stay up to watch Bride of Dracula.’

No I haven’t!’ Janey started to laugh.

‘That settles it,’ declared Guy. ‘I can’t possibly watch Bride of Dracula on my own. It’ll remind me of Maxine and give me hideous nightmares. You’re going to have to stay.’

Ella, reaching across him, picked up one of the gingerbread men. To her dismay the all-important currant rolled on to the floor.

‘Oh, sodit,’ she squealed indignantly. ‘What a little bugger. His bloody tummy button’s come off.’

Chapter 33

Discretion was all part and parcel of a florist’s job, Janey had discovered. When a man who had been married for twenty years began placing a regular order for white freesias to be delivered to an address several miles away from his own home, you kept your mouth shut and delivered them. When your very own middle-aged bank manager suddenly spruced himself up, discovered aftershave and took to popping in for single long-stemmed red roses, you kept a straight face at all costs. And on Valentine’s day, when any number of men might request two --

or even three – identical cellophane-wrapped bouquets of mixed spring flowers, you didn’t bat so much as an eyelid.

Which was how she was managing not to bat an eyelid now. But there could be no doubt about it; the man standing before her was definitely the same man she had seen with her mother all those weeks ago. And the gold American Express card she was holding definitely bore the name ‘Oliver J. Cassidy’.

Which was why, of course, he had looked so familiar to her when she’d spotted him at the Grand Rock Hotel. ‘I’d like to write the message on the card myself, if I may,’ said Oliver Cassidy with a brief smile.

Janey, who had only popped into the shop for a couple of hours whilst Josh and Ella were at school, watched him uncap a black and gold Mont Blanc fountain pen. She felt like a voyeur.

‘There.’ The task completed, he passed the card back to her and smiled once more. The brief message: You have all my love. Counting the days, was written in a courtly, elegant hand.

Will they be sent this afternoon?’

‘Don’t worry, they’ll reach her before two o’clock,’ Janey assured smoothly. ‘I shall be delivering them myself.’

‘Darling, what a lovely surprise!’ Thea, opening the front door, kissed Janey on both cheeks. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the enormous cellophane-wrapped bouquet. ‘And what heavenly lilies ... how kind of you to think of your poor old mother.’

‘They aren’t from me,’ said Janey dryly. ‘They’re from an admirer. I’m just the delivery girl.’

Thea, evidently in a buoyant mood, said, ‘Oh well, in that case I won’t invite you in for a drink.’

‘Yes you will.’ Handing over the bouquet, Janey headed in the direction of the kitchen and switched on the kettle. By the time she’d spooned instant coffee into two mugs, Thea had opened the envelope, read the message written on the card and slipped it into the pocket of her blue-and-white striped shirt. It was an extremely well-made man’s shirt, Janey noted. No prizes for guessing the identity of the original owner.

She waited until the coffee was made before saying anything. ’So who is he, Mum?’

‘Good heavens,’ countered Thea, a shade too brightly. ‘You’re the one who sold him the flowers, sweetheart. Surely you know who he is. Or did he run off without paying and you’re desperate to track him down?’

‘I know who he is. I wanted to know if you did.’ Thea laughed. ‘Well of course I do, darling! His name is Oliver and he’s madly in love with me.’

‘I meant do you know exactly who he is?’ Janey paused and sipped her coffee. ‘But it’s pretty obvious now that you do. For goodness sake, Mum, whatever do you think you’re doing?

What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss,’ said Thea crossly. ‘There’s absolutely nothing to get dramatic about. OK, so his name is Oliver Cassidy and he just happens to be the father of the photographer Maxine’s working for. Is that so terrible? Am I committing some hideous crime?’

‘You tell me.’ Janey, inwardly amazed at her ability to remain calm, sat back and crossed her legs. ‘Were you the one who came up with the idea of abducting his grandchildren?’

‘Of course I wasn’t. And there’s no need to make it sound like some kind of kidnapping,’

Thea countered. ‘He wanted to see them; he knew Guy would kick up all kinds of a fuss if he asked his permission, so he waited until he was away. Those children had a splendid afternoon, Oliver did what he came to Cornwall to do and nobody came to any harm.’

‘So you do know all about it,’ said Janey accusingly.

‘Maxine nearly lost her job as a result of that little escapade. And did dear Oliver tell you how he came to be estranged from his son? Did he explain exactly why Guy would have kicked up such a fuss?’

‘It was all a misunderstanding.’ Thea dismissed it with an airy gesture. ‘Oliver realizes now that he made a mistake, but it’s only gone on as long as it has because Guy overreacted. All families have disagreements, unfortunately. Oliver was unlucky enough to have his turned into some ridiculous, long-running feud. Darling, he was heartbroken about it! Seeing those dear little children, even if it was only for a few hours, did him all the good in the world.’

‘It wouldn’t have, if Guy had found out about it. He would have called the police.’

If there was one thing Thea couldn’t bear, it was being criticized by her own children. ‘And you’re on his side of course,’ she countered irritably. ‘Despite knowing nothing about what really happened. Just because he no doubt has a pretty face.’

Janey, determined not to rise to the bait, gritted her teeth. ‘But it’s OK for you to defend his father, just because he’s mad about you and stinking rich? Mum, what he did was wrong!’

‘Oh Janey, don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ Thea banged her coffee mug down on the table. ‘What happened wasn’t tragic. The real tragedy is Guy Cassidy’s pig-headed refusal to let bygones be bygones, because the children are the ones who suffer. All Oliver was trying to do was make it up to them.’

‘Really?’ Janey remained unimpressed. ‘And what’s he planning to do for an encore?

Whisk them out of the country for a few months?’

This was ridiculous. Thea’s expression softened. ‘Oliver would never do anything like that.

He’s a wonderful man, darling.’

Janey, who had thought Bruno was wonderful, replied unforgivingly, ‘I’m sure he is. As long as he’s getting his own way.’

There was a long silence. Finally, Thea said, ‘All right, so what happens now? What are you going to do for an encore?’

Janey, having already considered the options, shrugged. ‘You mean am I going to tell Guy?

I don’t know, Mum. The thing is, can you be sure his father isn’t, in some obscure way, just using you? I’m serious,’ she went on, when Thea started to smile. ‘It’s all highly coincidental, after all. You’re Maxine’s mother, and Maxine looks after Josh and Ella. How do you know he hasn’t hatched some sinister plan?’

‘Dear me.’ Her mother shook her head and gave her an indulgent look. ‘And ‘I thought Maxine was the drama queen of the family. Janey, take it from someone old enough to know.

There’s nothing even remotely sinister about Oliver Cassidy, and there are no ulterior motives on his part. He loves me, and I love him. I’m sorry if that doesn’t meet with the approval of Maxine’s employer but as far as I’m concerned, my private life is none of his business anyway.

And if you feel you have to tell him, then do it, though personally I can’t see the point. From what I hear, hugs and smiles and forgiveness-all-round is pretty much off the cards, so all you’d be doing would be stirring it up again for no useful reason. Still,’ she concluded with a take-it-or-leave-it gesture, ‘Those are just my thoughts. As I said, it’s entirely up to you.’

Janey was now more undecided than ever. What her mother had said made sense. Keeping quiet, on the other hand, meant assuming responsibility for the secret. And it also meant not telling Maxine, who would be sure to tell Guy herself. If anything should ever go wrong, she thought with unease, she would be at least partly to blame.

But Oliver Cassidy had seemed charming, and imprinted in her mind was the expression on his face as he’d written the brief message to accompany Thea’s flowers.

‘How do you know he loves you?’ she asked, gazing into her mother’s dark eyes.

‘I’ve had nearly thirty years to learn from my mistakes in that field,’ Thea replied simply.

‘This time it’s the real thing. Trust me, darling. When it happens like this, you do know ...’

In that case, thought Janey as memories of Alan and Bruno flooded back, why don’t I?

Torrential rain the next day meant an early wrap for the fashion shoot Guy had been working on in the Cotswolds. Home by four-thirty, he found Janey on the phone in the kitchen, the receiver tucked under her chin whilst she mashed parsnips with one hand and stirred a pan of gravy with the other. Her blond hair was loosely pinned up and the violet sweatshirt she wore over white jeans was slipping off one shoulder. Her cheeks, pink from the heat of the oven, turned pinker still when she realized he was back.