Island Of The Heart. Sara Craven

word. There seems no end to Miss Beaumont’s versatility. But I’m afraid you’ll have to look elsewhere for your accompanist, Mother. The young lady is leaving us shortly.’

      ‘Oh, but that’s quite impossible,’ Magda said swiftly. ‘Why, it might take me weeks—months even—to find someone suitable. And darling Sandie’s right here on the spot, and ideal for the job. I won’t let you take her away from me.’

      ‘That’s nonsense, and we both know it.’ Flynn was tight-lipped. ‘Miss Beaumont is far from irreplaceable. Whatever Crispin may have claimed, there are better pianists around too.’

      ‘But I like her.’ Magda spread her hands dramatically. ‘Oh, Flynn darling, sometimes you can be so—unkind—unthinking even. When I remember your beloved father—so sensitive to my every need.’ Her eyes filled with sudden tears. ‘How can I explain to you? I need someone who is sympathique. Someone I can get on with. Rapport between us is essential.’ Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. ‘But what’s the use? You’ve never understood the artistic temperament.’

      ‘Perhaps not, but sheer bloody-mindedness doesn’t cause me too many problems,’ Flynn said with a kind of weary anger. ‘I don’t need to ask who’s prompted this little outburst.’ He shrugged. ‘Let Crispin have his way, then, as he usually does.’ He went round and sat down behind his desk. ‘And now, as we all have so much work to do, maybe we should get on with some of it.’