.

sorry that you see it like that. I really didn’t intend …’

      ‘It doesn’t matter what you intended,’ Debbie cut across her rudely. ‘We’re quite all right as we are. We don’t need you playing Lady Bountiful.’

      ‘That’s quite enough, Debbie.’ Margaret, who had been out of the room, had returned in time to hear the last part of the exchange. She went on, ‘You’ll have to excuse her, Alix. She’s rather on edge these days.’

      ‘Perhaps I’d better go.’ Alix stood up, reaching for her bag. She was desperately afraid that she might burst into tears. Until she had left home, she and Debbie had shared a room, had confided in each other, giggled and occasionally quarrelled. Now they could be strangers.

      ‘I’ll see you out,’ said Debbie.

      ‘There’s really no need.’ Alix let a note of sarcasm enter her voice. ‘This is still my home, and I’ve no intention of stealing anything on my way through the hall.’

      ‘Alix!’ her mother protested, smiling nervously. ‘I’m sure Debbie didn’t mean that.’

      Alix gave her a quick kiss, aware of the tightness in her throat. ‘Goodbye, love, and look after yourself. I—I’ll telephone first next time.’

      She walked through the hall without looking back, and shut the front door behind her. Then, feeling dazed, she made her way down the path to the gate. She was sure that Debbie was watching her from the front room window, but pride forbade that she should turn and confirm her certainty. It was raining lightly again, and she turned up the collar of her cream trench coat, and pushed her hands into her pockets as she hurried along towards the station.

      What a total disaster of a day this had been! The grey skies as she flew in that morning had been an omen.

      ‘I should have flown right out again,’ she told herself with mordant humour.

      Walking along, her head bent, she didn’t see the figure approaching until she found herself in a mini-collision.

      She said, ‘I’m so sorry …’ and broke off as a female voice exclaimed delightedly, ‘Alix—Alix Coulter! How marvellous! Don’t you remember me?’

      Alix looked into the smiling face of Gemma Allan, an old school friend.

      ‘Gemma—you’re the last person I expected to see.’

      ‘I can’t think why. Didn’t your mother tell you that Dave and I had bought the house on the corner? Didn’t she give you my message?’

      Alix shook her head bewilderedly. ‘She must have forgotten. And of course I’ve been away—abroad.’

      ‘That I can see.’ Gemma whistled appreciately. ‘Is that an all-over tan, may one enquire? I’m brown too, of course, but with me it’s rust.’

      ‘Oh, Gemma!’ To her horror, Alix heard her voice become choky. ‘It’s so great to see you.’ To see a friendly face, she almost said.

      ‘Hey,’ Gemma took her arm, peering at her with concern, ‘what’s the matter? You’re upset—what is it? Your mother?’

      ‘Not really,’ Alix shook her head, fighting back her tears. ‘Oh, God, this is awful. I can’t stand in the middle of the road bawling like a baby.’

      ‘Then come and bawl in our house,’ Gemma said soothingly. ‘Dave won’t be home for at least another hour.’

      By the time they were settled in Gemma’s small sitting room, Alix had managed to regain control of herself.

      ‘I’m sorry to have behaved like an idiot,’ she began.

      ‘Think nothing of it,’ Gemma said largely. ‘Don’t forget I’m used to it, having been at school with you. What’s troubling you? You haven’t had the sack from the dream job of yours?’

      Alix smiled drearily. ‘No, but I sometimes wonder whether I did the right thing in taking it in the first place.’

      Gemma stared at her. ‘Well, it has to be better than a lifetime of “Now this conveyance witnesseth as follows”,’ she said drily. ‘Is it man trouble?’

      ‘It is a man, and he is trouble, but not in the way that you mean,’ Alix said ruefully. ‘Look, the simplest thing is if I give you a quick run-down on “My Day so Far”.’

      Gemma sat and listened attentively, her sole comment being, ‘Little bitch,’ when Alix described Debbie’s reaction to her offer of a honeymoon.

      ‘She must be very unhappy,’ Alix said slowly.

      ‘She must be very jealous,’ Gemma retorted.

      ‘But she had no reason to be jealous of me,’ Alix protested. ‘She’s always done exactly what she wanted, and now she’s going to be married.’

      Gemma looked at her pityingly. ‘Look, love, Debbie would envy a dead man his coffin. Haven’t you seen through her yet? She’s probably as mad as fire that she wasn’t offered your job.’

      ‘But she couldn’t have been. She hadn’t even left school …’

      ‘That’s the reasonable point of view. Debbie wouldn’t see it like that. She would see it as you getting a chance she’d been denied. Being married is the only other option open to her. I hope, for her fiancé’s sake, that it works. Now, about this other business, why do you suppose Bianca doesn’t want her biography written?’

      Alix sighed. ‘I wish I knew. She was all for the idea originally, when she thought someone was going to ghost it for her.’

      ‘In other words a self-portrait by her greatest fan,’ Gemma’s voice was dry. ‘Well, Liam Brant is no one’s fan, so I suppose she can be allowed her misgivings.’

      ‘Do you know him?’ Alix stared at her.

      ‘No, but I’ve read some of his books. Dave bought me the Kristen Wallace biog for my birthday, and what an eye-opener that was. Since then I’ve been borrowing his other stuff from the library.’

      ‘Have you got any of them now?’

      ‘I’ve one—an early one about Clive Percy, the conductor. He doesn’t pull his punches, but he really gets inside the people he writes about. He makes you feel you know them.’

      ‘Or at least you know what he wants you to know about them,’ Alix said with some asperity. ‘You can’t really say he’s objective.’

      Gemma shrugged. ‘Well, we won’t argue about it. Have you read any of them?’ And when Alix shook her head with a little grimace, ‘Well, take the Percy one. It doesn’t have to go back for a fortnight, and if you keep it longer than that, you pay the fine. Is it a deal?’

      Alix laughed. ‘Yes, it’s a deal.’ She stood up. ‘Thank you for letting me talk it all out. I actually feel much better. Instead of an early night, I might just treat myself to dinner and a theatre.’

      ‘I was going to offer you egg and chips with us, but your plan has far more going for it,’ Gemma said cheerfully. ‘But you will come to supper soon, won’t you? Dave would love to meet you. I’ve mentioned you often. And now you’ve got my address and phone number, there’s really no excuse …’

      Alix felt infinitely happier as she left Waterloo, and hailed a taxi to take her into the West End. It had been marvellous to bump into Gemma like that. They had been so close at school, but afterwards it was only too easy to lose touch. She was ashamed to think that she hadn’t even known that Gemma was married, let alone met her husband, and she couldn’t help wondering why the family hadn’t told her, because they must have known.

      I could at least have sent a present, even if I couldn’t have gone to the wedding, she thought wistfully.

      Gemma had referred to her life with Bianca as a ‘dream job’, but suddenly Alix wasn’t