Stronger Than Yearning. PENNY JORDAN

voice was thick with loathing. ‘I hate that place, I hate everything about it. Why do I have to go there?’ She turned to face Jenna, anger turning her eyes almost black. ‘But, of course, we both know the answer to that, don’t we? If I wasn’t at boarding school you wouldn’t have so much time to devote to your precious career, would you?’

      It was an argument they had been through many times before and once again, patiently, Jenna explained to Lucy that she needed to earn a living for them both, that she needed to go out to work.

      ‘Yes, but there was no need to send me away to school, was there?’ Lucy challenged. ‘You could have sent me to a day school. I don’t suppose you ever really wanted me anyway, did you?’ she threw out bitterly. ‘If you’d been able to have an abortion in those days, I suppose that’s what you’d have done, isn’t it?’

      Genuinely shocked by Lucy’s outburst, Jenna could only stare at her. ‘Well, isn’t it?’ Lucy challenged fiercely.

      ‘Lucy, Jenna, lunch is ready,’ the calm interruption of Nancy’s voice cut through the tension in the small room.

      ‘You’re quite wrong, Lucy,’ Jenna said, fighting to appear calm, and not to betray the dreadful shaking that was threatening to overcome her. ‘But now isn’t the time to discuss this. We’d better go down and have lunch, otherwise Nancy will wonder what’s wrong.’

      ‘You mean she hasn’t already guessed?’ Lucy laughed bitterly as she got up off the bed and sauntered towards the door. Before she pulled it open she turned and stared defiantly at Jenna. ‘You needn’t think I’m going to leave it like this because I’m not. Somewhere I have a father, and one day I’ll find out who he is and nothing you can do will stop me!’

      She had gone downstairs before Jenna could call her back, and although over lunch Jenna made an effort to respond to Bill’s interested questions about the old Hall, her mind was not on them. There was, of course, no real way Lucy could find out about her parentage, but Jenna’s heart ached for the pain of the younger girl wishing more than anything else that she could tell her the truth, but fearing that she had left it far too late. The relationship between herself and Lucy was so delicate now that she half feared that if she did tell her the truth, Lucy would not believe her.

      And what good would it do, anyway? None that she could see.

      ‘So, what do you think the old Hall will go for?’ Bill asked when they were drinking their after-lunch coffee. ‘The reserve price?’

      Jenna grimaced, ‘I’m hoping so. Even at that it would take more than my existing cash resources.’

      Bill put down his cup and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Jenna, are you sure you’re doing the right thing? I accept that you’ve fallen in love with the house, and I can quite see that it would make an excellent headquarters from which you could expand your business, but in view of the fact that Lucy doesn’t want to move up here, and, well, the past …’

      ‘I’ve made up my mind,’ Jenna told him curtly. ‘Don’t ask me to explain why, Bill. I don’t really know myself.’ She made a tiny helpless gesture, oddly heart-tugging in a woman normally so invulnerable, and Bill could not help but be touched by it. ‘All I do know is that I must own the old Hall. For it to be mine will satisfy some need in me. I can’t explain it any better than that.’

      ‘Mmm, well … You know best.’

      ‘Dear Bill.’ Jenna got up and ruffled his grey hair. ‘What would I have done without you and Nancy to support me?’ He was the only member of his sex with whom she allowed herself to be herself — the only man she did not either dislike or despise.

      ‘We only did what any caring human beings would have done in the same circumstances, Jenna. It was your misfortune that in both your aunt and in Alan Deveril you came across two of the less attractive specimens of human kind.’

      Jenna shrugged. ‘I suppose I can’t really blame my aunt. After all, she was very much a product of her time. She’d done her duty as she saw it, by taking in Rachel and myself in the first place.’

      Bill watched her, noting the brief flash of pain that crossed her face. He had never been able to understand how Helen Marsden had been able to turn her fifteen-year-old great-niece from the door, especially when she had been carrying a two-week-old baby in her arms. Helen had known that the child hadn’t been Jenna’s, but that had made no difference. Thank God he had happened to be out walking the dog that night and had seen Jenna trudging down the lane, tears cascading down a small face that had been oddly fierce and determined despite her plight, even then. Lucy had been clutched in one arm, a battered suitcase in the other.

      At first Jenna had refused to stop and talk to him, but he had managed to coax her into the house and once there, Nancy soon had the whole story from her. She hadn’t wanted to stay, but Nancy had insisted. The next morning, while Jenna was still deep in an exhausted sleep, he and Nancy had sat down and talked about the situation. Jenna was flatly refusing to give up her sister’s child, and there was no reason why she should, at least in Nancy’s eyes.

      When Jenna eventually woke, they had put it to her that she stay with them, at least for the time being. At first she had been reluctant to agree. She knew Bill only as the headmaster of the local school and Nancy not at all and she was patently truculent — reluctant to trust them — but gradually Nancy had persuaded her.

      Still too young to leave school herself, Jenna had had to leave Lucy with Nancy during the day while she attended her classes. She had always been a hardworking girl, and intelligent, but then she worked like someone driven, Bill remembered. He had found her one night in the sitting-room poring over her books. When he had questioned her as to why she was still working at that time of night, she had told him fiercely that she needed to leave school as quickly as she could with as many qualifications as she could get, so that she could find a way of supporting herself and Lucy.

      ‘And what will you do about Lucy, Jenna?’ he asked her quietly now, coming back to the present. ‘I’m afraid she isn’t going to accept coming to live up here very easily.’

      ‘No, I know, I’m hoping when she goes back to school she’ll settle down a bit better.’ Jenna bit her lip, an endearing childish gesture in so polished a woman, and frowned quickly. ‘When I was upstairs with her just now, she said she hated school. She even accused me of sending her to boarding school because I wanted to be rid of her. It wasn’t like that at all, Bill.’ She turned to him, her eyes appealing for understanding. ‘I could have sent her to a day school, yes, but that would have meant her coming home sometimes to an empty flat, crossing London alone, I didn’t want that for her. I thought at least at boarding school she would be safe and secure, with other girls of her own age.’

      ‘Lucy’s a teenager, Jenna,’ Bill reminded her, ‘and like all teenagers, she’s going through a very painful growing period — something I know you missed out on.’

      ‘I didn’t have time for growing pains.’ Jenna admitted wryly. ‘I was too busy fighting to prove I was grown up enough to keep Lucy. I was terrified the authorities would take her away from me. And so they would have if it hadn’t been for you and Nancy, agreeing to stand as our foster parents until I was old enough to adopt her legally.’

      ‘Well … we wanted to do all we could to help you, Jenna, but as far as Lucy’s concerned, now, today, I think the root cause of the problem is this conflict between you concerning her father.’

      ‘Yes,’ Jenna agreed quietly, ‘but what can I do, Bill? I can’t tell her the truth now. I just can’t. Perhaps I should have made up a mythical father for her years ago, but somehow I never thought about it. I ask myself, what would Rachel want me to do, and I can’t help feeling she would want me to protect her daughter.’

      Bill sighed, knowing that Jenna’s refusal to tell Lucy the truth sprang from a genuine desire to protect her but not sure that he agreed with her. If she wasn’t told the truth, Lucy would go through life constantly wondering about her father. He accepted that to be told the facts now would cause her considerable