A Vengeful Reunion. Catherine George

they go along with that?’ she asked in an undertone.

      ‘Absolutely. We had a pretty wild night on my birthday in Edinburgh. But here on my own patch I’ve laid down the law—no drinking until after supper, and no sneaking back here for illicit snogging and so on. I took them along the cliff path as far as the Eyrie earlier, to warn that it’s a good six hundred feet down from the path to the River Wye, and I’ll repeat the process when the rest of the gang arrive.’ Adam grinned. ‘And don’t worry about Kate. I’ll make sure she has a good time.’ He shouted for silence. ‘Listen up, you lot, my sisters are taking the women over to the house to change, and allocate bedrooms. I’ll introduce the men to my parents later.’

      Back at the house time flew by in a flurry of preparation.

      Young female guests were shown into the three bedrooms normally occupied by the daughters of the house, and the stream of traffic was constant along the long upper landing as jeans and sweaters were exchanged for scanty little dresses. Everyone jostled for places at full-length mirrors, and latecomers arrived to join in the melee.

      ‘Thank goodness you had a bath earlier on, Kate,’ said Leonie in the haven of Fenny’s little room. ‘Bags first shower, Jess—I feel travel-stained.’

      Later the three of them went downstairs to join their parents for a glass of wine in the lull before more guests arrived. Fenny, in pink taffeta and lacy tights, her dark hair caught up with a velvet bow, was incandescent with excitement as she saw her sisters.

      ‘You all look gorgeous,’ she cried, rushing from one to the other in admiration.

      ‘Fenny’s right,’ agreed Tom Dysart, smiling proudly on his daughters.

      ‘It’s amazing how genetics work,’ said Frances with satisfaction. ‘You’ve all got something of your father and me, in various permutations.’

      ‘Only I drew the short straw,’ sighed Kate, pulling a face. ‘And I do mean short.’

      ‘You look stunning,’ said Leonie firmly. ‘And be thankful. Only someone as small as you could wear a dress like that.’

      In brief, mint-green organza, with her hair coaxed up into a loose knot of curls, Kate looked very different from her everyday schoolgirl self, but it had taken naked envy from some of Adam’s girlfriends to convince her of the fact.

      Leonie had released her own hair from its severe braided coil to cascade in bronze glory to her shoulders, and wore a scarlet silk sheath of such superb cut Jess eyed it reverently.

      ‘I admire your style, chancing that colour with your hair. Must have cost a lira or two,’ she muttered.

      ‘You didn’t pick that little number up in a charity shop, either,’ retorted Leonie. ‘Looks as though you were shrink-wrapped into it.’

      Jess grinned. ‘I knew Adam’s girlies would all be wearing floaty little numbers so I opted for black and sexy.’

      ‘Very different from Leonie’s twenty-first,’ said their mother reminiscently. ‘That was all satin ballgowns.’

      ‘Except for Leo,’ said Jess bitterly. ‘She conned you into buying her that clinging gold job with the plunging back. It made the rest of us look like lampshades.’

      ‘I wasn’t even allowed to stay up,’ said Kate, smiling at Fenny. ‘You’re a lucky girl.’

      ‘I know,’ said Fenny, pink with excitement. ‘And I’m going to sleep on the folding bed in Mummy’s room.’

      There was sudden commotion as the male contingent arrived from the stables; the girls stampeded down the stairs to join them, and Adam’s voice, loud above the rest, shouted that some of the neighbours had arrived, along with the DJ and the music equipment.

      Tom Dysart hurried off to supervise installation in the conservatory off the dining room, and Frances followed him with Kate and Fenny to welcome the newcomers, but her elder daughters remained behind for a moment of quiet together before the party began in earnest.

      ‘How long are you home for, Leo?’ asked Jess.

      ‘Two weeks, at least.’ Leonie explained about the flu epidemic.

      Jess whistled. ‘Won’t this Roberto of yours object?’

      ‘He wasn’t happy.’

      ‘He’d be even less so if he knew Jonah Savage was on the scene. Or doesn’t he know about Jonah?’

      ‘No. Though it wouldn’t matter if he did.’ Leonie shrugged. ‘I’m nearly thirty, Jess. It would be pretty strange if I hadn’t had a boyfriend or two in the past.’

      Jess gave her a scathing look. ‘Come off it, Leo. You and Jonah were crazy about each other.’

      ‘But not any more. Come on. Time we joined the fray.’

      ‘In a minute.’ Jess put a hand on her arm. ‘Look, I wouldn’t bring this up if Jonah hadn’t reappeared on the scene, but come on, Leo, after all this time surely you can tell me what happened. Please. I promise I’ll never mention it again.’

      ‘The usual thing. I found out he was involved with someone else.’ Leonie’s mouth curved in a wry, bitter smile. ‘And so, dear reader, I bolted back to Italy, and instead of coming home at the end of the academic year to get married, I stayed on at the school to become Miss Jean Brodie, Italian-style.’

      Jess whistled softly. ‘I knew it had to be something like that, but I just couldn’t believe it. And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.’

      ‘You’d better not. Everyone else—including Mother and Dad—thinks I just changed my mind,’ warned Leonie.

      ‘Except Jonah, of course.’

      ‘Including Jonah. He never knew I found out.’

      ‘What?’ Jess frowned. ‘Who was the woman, Leo?’

      ‘Not my secret to tell.’

      ‘Whoever it was, the affair died a quick death—what’s the matter?’

      ‘Indigestion.’

      ‘You know my boss is a friend of his,’ Jess went on. ‘Plenty of female company in Jonah’s life, I hear, but nothing permanent. Is Roberto permanent?’ she added.

      ‘I think he wants to be.’

      ‘And what do you want—or need?’

      Leonie smiled brightly. ‘At this moment in time, entertainment. Let’s party.’

      The drawing room was soon thronged with friends and neighbours, but the younger set crammed into the vast dining room, where the ancient Persian carpet had been taken up to leave the gleaming wood floor bare for dancing. The chairs had been removed, and the dining table pushed against one wall and laden with the supper Frances Dysart had decreed should be eaten the moment all the guests had arrived, before there was any dancing or too much consumption of the wine and beer provided.

      ‘I want your friends to line their stomachs first,’ Frances told her son very firmly.

      When Jonah Savage was shown in Leonie was describing her life in Florence to some of her parents’ friends. She felt Kate stiffen with apprehension beside her, but Fenny charged across the room, her face aglow, and before Jonah could do more than murmur a conventional greeting the little girl had towed him to the far side of the room to join the group round her parents. Leonie saw him shake his head, smiling, as her mother offered him supper, then turned her attention back to the Andersons, who had known her all her life, and were doing their level best to behave as though they’d never received an invitation to the wedding of Leonie Dysart and Jonah Savage.

      Sheer will-power forced Leonie to carry on eating, talking and behaving as though the arrival of her onetime fiancé was of no more note than any other guest. But sensitive Kate promptly rescued Leonie’s abandoned supper, and roped