Naive Awakening. CATHY WILLIAMS

he said, as they waited for their coffee and cakes. Mr Baird’s wife baked all the cakes herself and Leigh could never resist the opportunity of having one. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it’ll be easier without Freddie around.’ Something in his voice made her look at him warily.

      ‘If you’re going to lecture me about Freddie’s brush with the law,’ she began haughtily, ‘then you might as well forget it. I’m fully aware that what he did was wrong, and, believe it or not, so is he. He’s never done anything like this before, and he won’t again. He’s just gone off the rails a bit since Grandad died. They were very close. You don’t have to tell me that I’m going to need to take a firm hand with him, because that’s exactly what I intend to do. In fact, I’d be doing it now if I weren’t here instead, taking a trip with you down memory lane.’

      So there, she implied.

      Nicholas leaned back in the small chair, his broad frame looking absurdly out of place on the fragile wooden structure, and watched her impassively.

      ‘Quite a speech,’ he drawled with infuriating calm, not in the least put out by her insinuation that he was somehow wasting her time, ‘but as a barrister I’ve seen all too well how young boys like Freddie can wind up in gaol, and, believe me, speeches and good intentions can get lost in the wind very easily.’

      He looked at her thoughtfully, and when he spoke his voice was polite but hard. ‘I fully appreciate that it must be difficult for you—you’re scarcely out of childhood yourself—but don’t lull yourself into believing that things like this can get swept under the carpet after a strong talking-to.’

      Leigh looked at him speechlessly. How dared he waltz into their lives and start preaching to her about Freddie’s upbringing?

      ‘Are you suggesting that I’m not competent enough to look after my brother?’

      ‘Did I say that?’

      ‘Please don’t play these verbal games with me,’ she said, making an effort to modulate her voice.

      ‘All right,’ he replied smoothly, ‘then let me ask you this; what do you intend to do with him now?’

      Leigh frowned and had an uneasy feeling that she was being ushered into a trap. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she said at last. ‘I intend to give him a sound ticking off, and keep my eye on him to make sure that he doesn’t get into any more trouble. Although, as I said, I think he’s learnt a lesson from this. Freddie’s no fool. I can’t see him doing this sort of thing again in a hurry. He’ll listen to me. He won’t end up in gaol!’

      ‘You mean, that’s what you hope. Tell me something; did you have any idea that he would be involved in this sort of incident?’

      ‘Well, I know that he hadn’t exactly been disciplined since Grandad died, but—’

      ‘And you really think that you can remedy that problem?’

      ‘Yes, I do!’ Her cheeks were flaming, and she stood up, quite prepared to walk out of the shop and to hell with any need to be grateful and polite.

      ‘Sit back down,’ he grated, and his words held enough of a command in them for her to reluctantly obey.

      ‘You can’t tell me how to run my life,’ she muttered mutinously.

      ‘I don’t need to,’ he said smoothly. ‘The mere fact that I’m here says it all, don’t you agree?’

      There was very little that she could say to that, but the sheer logic of what he had just said didn’t stop her from feeling furiously angry. Angry at his arrogance, at his assumption that he could write off all her efforts with her brother without so much as an apology, and particularly angry at the way that he had somehow found precisely the right crack in her armour to render her defenceless.

      Ever since Freddie’s arrest she had been plagued by self-doubts and by her anxiety at realising that her attempts to stabilise him after their grandfather’s death had clearly failed.

      But the last thing she needed was Nicholas Reynolds reminding her of the fact in that patronising tone of voice.

      ‘Well, then,’ she said frozenly, ‘what do you suggest I do? Keep him chained to his bed as a lesson in discipline?’

      ‘I suggest,’ he said in measured tones, ‘that you leave Yorkshire.’

      Mr Baird had brought them a plateful of home-made cakes, and she bit into one, eyeing him defensively over the pink icing.

      ‘What?’ she asked, not sure that she had heard correctly.

      ‘Leave Yorkshire.’

      ‘What a good idea,’ she bit out sarcastically, ‘perhaps we could rob a bank and spend the proceeds recuperating on the French Riviera. I hate to sound rude, Mr Reynolds—’

      ‘Nicholas, please. After all, it’s not as though we don’t know each other.’

      She ignored his interruption. ‘But I resent you swanning up here with a bag full of good intentions and telling me how to run my life here. I have a good job at the library, and Freddie will settle down.’

      ‘And what if he doesn’t?’

      Leigh almost choked on a mouthful of coffee. Just who did this man think he was anyway? Was he daring to tell her how to run her life? What right did he think he had?

      Freddie was her responsibility, and she wasn’t going to have anyone preaching to her on her suitability as his guardian.

      He clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘For God’s sake, stop acting as though I’m the big, bad wolf who has nothing better to do than pick on you.’

      Leigh’s blue eyes stormily met his cool grey ones. She didn’t care for this man one jot, even as a boy he had managed to get under her skin, so why was she even listening to him as though she were being cross-examined in a witness box instead of sitting in Mr Baird’s coffee-shop?

      ‘What,’ he continued implacably, ‘do you, for instance, intend to do about Freddie’s education?’

      ‘He’s just sat his exams, and he’ll be leaving school…’

      ‘And do you think that’s fair? He’s a bright boy; what will he be leaving school to do? He told me that he would like to go on to specialise in cabinet-making, but that he didn’t know whether he would be able to or not.’

      ‘He told you that?’

      ‘Yes,’ Nicholas informed her.

      Leigh surveyed him in silence. Right at this instant, it was a good thing that Freddie wasn’t around, because she could quite happily have strangled him.

      She knew what he wanted well enough, but money was tight, and she had guiltily thought that he had accepted the fact. She had discussed it with him, and told him that he could do whatever he wanted after he had worked for a while and got some money together. It was the only thing she could think of.

      How could he just go and pour out all their personal problems to a stranger?

      God knew what else he had told this aggravating Mr Know-it-all.

      ‘There’s not much chance of that, not just at the moment. Maybe some time in the future.’

      ‘Because of your financial situation.’

      Leigh nodded reluctantly. ‘Grandad’s money will really only help to keep the cottage running. It needs some pretty expensive repairs which we had all been putting off for a while, and which can’t be postponed for much longer. The roof needs work doing on it, I really would like to get some central heating put in, it needs repainting on the outside…’ Her voice trailed off.

      ‘The list goes on.’

      ‘More or less,’ she shrugged, hating the admission and thinking of all the other million and one things that still needed doing around the place,