Yet, while it had not been a lover's kiss, or even a friend's kiss, it was a kiss that seemed to shatter all she knew. Her heart, her mind seemed to be in uproar. She felt breathless, dizzy-and had the craziest notion that-if she didn't know better-she'd have said she had fallen in love with him!

CHAPTER FIVE

SHE WAS not, not, not in love with Thomson, Yancie told herself repeatedly as the weekend came and went. She was still telling herself the same thing when Thursday rolled around again-a week, a whole week since she had last seen him-and thoughts of the head man at Addison Kirk seemed to be still totally dominating her mind.

She supposed, on balance, seeing what a hash she'd made of it the last time she'd been called upon to chauffeur him-when he had ended up chauffeuring her-that she couldn't blame him for not requesting her to drive him since. And yet-even though she wasn't in love with him-she missed him. Indeed, sometimes she felt so heartsore, she ached just to see him. But she wasn't in love with him!

Yancie occasionally worried that she might be growing to be like her mother, or her cousins' mothers, Aunt Portia or Aunt Imogen. But it didn't feel like it. This-this feeling inside of her wasn't a feeling she got for any one anywhere-likely-looking man. It was just for Thomson Wakefield.

It upset her, this new and never experienced-before emotion. Yet, when she, Astra and Fennia had always been able to discuss absolutely everything, including their innermost thoughts, she felt completely unable to discuss this-whatever it was she felt for Thomson-with them. It was too private. Somehow, it was much too private to share with even her two lovely cousins.

Yancie tried hard to think of something else other than Thomson, yet thoughts of him seemed to consume her. Ridiculous, she told herself; totally ridiculous. It was for sure he wasn't wasting a minute's sleep in thinking of her. If he were, he'd be on that phone to Kevin asking for her to drive him somewhere. But had he rung for her? Had he blazes!

'What's the matter, Yancie`?' Fennia asked her when they met up at Astra's flat that night.

'Matter?"

'You've been-different. All this week you've been quiet. Sort of as if your mind is elsewhere.'

'I'm sorry,' Yancie apologised.

Fennia shrugged her apology aside. `You're not having problems at work? With your mother?"

'Oh, Fen!' Here was she, moping about, when Fennia had much more serious problems. `How are things with you and your mother?"

'Like she doesn't want to know.'

'What we need is a party,' Yancie decided to be cheerful.

'True, but Astra's got a whole load of work on this weekend, and it wouldn't be fair.'

'So Saturday night's out,' Yancie agreed.

'In which case, I'll take myself off on Saturday to see my mother-who knows? She might give me a less frosty reception than last time.'

'Would you like me to come with you?"

'I couldn't let you,' Fennia replied-they both knew that if Portia Cavendish was not ready to make friends with her daughter, then her cousin Yancie would be included in the permafrost.

'We've been through worse.'

Fennia laughed. `Do you remember…?'

With Astra busy most of Saturday, and with Fennia planning to call on her mother that evening-Fennia's mother refused to speak to her daughter on the telephone-Yancie, for the first time in her life, felt at a loose end.

She had worked on Saturday morning, getting a Mercedes spruced up. Because she was off to the airport very early on Sunday morning, taking Mr Clements to catch a plane, she was being allowed to take the Mercedes home.

Yancie knew full well that she was not allowed to use the car for personal use but she felt out of sorts, without feeling ill. Felt restless, unsettled and needing to be doing something. She could, she knew, go and pay her mother a visit. And Ralph would always welcome her; she knew that.

But, as ever, she turned to her aunt Delia in this time of needing she knew not what. Yancie drove the Mercedes over to her aunt's home.

'Yancie, my dear, how lovely to see you!' Aunt Delia beamed, warming Yancie's heart immediately. `Come and tell me all you've been up to.'

Two hours later, while making a determined effort that her aunt should not know she was feeling a little flat just then, Yancie was enjoying her aunt's company when Delia Alford said she'd make some more tea. 'I'll make it!' Yancie straight away volunteered, when just then the telephone rang.

'You answer the phone-I'll make it,' her aunt countermanded at once. `I don't want to speak to Imogen Kirby if it's her.'

'I'll tell her you're tied up with the plumber.' Yancie laughed, guessing the two half-sisters had had words about something or other.

It was not her aunt Imogen, Astra's mother, on the phone, however, but Matthew Grant, a friend of Greville's, asking if by any chance Greville was there. `That's not Mrs Alford, is it?' it suddenly dawned on him.

'Guess again,' Yancie suggested, having met Matthew on numerous occasions, and liking him very much.

'You've got to be one of Greville's stunning cousins.'

'Which one?'

'I can't say "the pretty one", because you're all ravishing.'

'I wonder why some girl hasn't snapped you up yet, Matthew?' Yancie laughed. `It's Yancie. How are things with you?"

'Poor on all fronts. Not only has my girlfriend dumped me, but my car had a slight mishap last night, so I'm without wheels which is why I'm trying to trace Greville. I'm supposed to be going to a party tonight, and if he's going too he might be able to give me a lift-only he's not home.'

'Hang on; I'll ask my aunt if she knows what he's doing.' Yancie put down the phone and slipped into the kitchen. `Matthew Grant wants to know if Greville's going to some party or other tonight. Any idea?"

'He's taking his poor dear mother to the theatre,' Greville's wonderful mother replied.

Yancie grinned and went back to the phone, recollecting that Greville was something of a theatre buff, but her grin faded-everybody had something to do that night, it seemed. 'Greville's not going to your party,' she relayed to Matthew, and, on a sudden impulse, she offered, `I'll drive you if you like. But I can't come back for you,' she added as an afterthought. `If you can make your own way home.' She knew all about parties. They went on until all hours and she didn't fancy getting out of bed to collect him at any time past midnight when she had to be up at four in the morning to drive to Mr Clements' address.

'Would you?' Matthew seemed a little amazed at her offer, but was soon liking the idea. `Getting a lift home won't be a problem. There's sure to be someone there going my way,' he accepted, and Yancie was just about to ask him what time he wanted picking up when Matthew had a sudden idea. `You wouldn't like to come to the party too, would you.

'I haven't been invited.'

'I've just invited you. I'm supposed to be taking someone-and I don't want all and sundry to know I've just been thrown over. Do come with me, Yancie.'

Poor Matthew; beneath his bright tone he sounded as if he was hurting. `I won't be able to stay long,' she said, weakening; wasn't a party just what she needed?

'You'll come?' he sounded pleased.

'What time shall I call for you?'

As soon as she put the phone down Yancie knew that she didn't want to go to any party. She had thought she did, but even though she didn't know what she did want it wasn't a party. 'I'm taking Matthew Grant to a party he's invited me to tonight,' she smiled to her aunt when she went back to the kitchen.

Yancie, dressed in a straight garment of little material, considering its outrageous price, picked Matthew up at eight-thirty as arranged and drove him to the party. They were warmly welcomed by their hosts and were soon in the swing of things.

Yancie had thought she might see someone she knew, as usually happened at that sort of function. But she saw no one she knew and, while owning that her heart wasn't in it, she did her very best for Matthew's sake.

The party was at its height, however, when he leaned forward and, sounding extremely stressed, exclaimed in hushed tones, `She's here! '

'Your ex?' Yancie whispered back, keeping her eyes steady on him so whoever `she' was shouldn't know, by the merest look, that they were talking about her. He nodded, pinning a smile she knew he wasn't feeling on his face. `Do you want me to be all over you, or to disappear and leave you to try and mend fences?' she sought to help in any way she could.

'Why couldn't I have fallen in love with you?' he asked, looking at her seriously.

Because I wouldn't have wanted you to. `It's a sad life,' she said, and laughed-and he laughed too-and Yancie, almost as if she could feel his ex-girlfriend's eyes boring into her, just had to look up, over by the door.

They were being observed, she saw, lapsing into stunned shock. Not by a female, though, but by a tall, dark-haired man who was a latecomer to the party. Warm colour seared her skin-the last time she had seen him he'd kissed her to stop her giggling!

Hurriedly she switched her glance away from Thomson. Matthew was saying something, but he could have been babbling away in Esperanto for all she was making any sense of what he was saying.

Thomson! Thomson-here! Her heart was fluttering like crazy; she wanted to go homeshe wanted to stay. She wanted to rush out to the Mercedes and… Oh, my lord-the Mercedes. She was dead! He'd seen the car in the drive-he must have done. Did he know the car? With his photographic memory for numbers? Stop hoping, Yancie; he probably had every car registration number in the Addison Kirk fleet noted.