CHAPTER EIGHT

‘Why am I coming too?’ Gracie said, a week later, as she, Henry and Spencer walked down the driveway towards the farmhouse several paddocks away.

‘To make a good impression,’ Henry said. ‘That face of yours could melt icebergs.’

‘But I only met Tom once.’

‘And now you’ll have met him twice. Remember to smile, Gracie. You too, Spencer. Use every drop of family charm and before the end of the day, we’ll have a friend for you, Spencer, or my name isn’t Henry Charles Templeton.’

‘The third,’ Gracie said.

‘The third,’ Henry agreed.

In her house, Nina was panicking. There was no other word for it. Answering the phone to Henry Templeton was one thing, but before she’d got over that shock, he’d invited himself over. There was something he needed to discuss, he said to her, in the deep, cultured tone she remembered from the day of the fete. Realising it was about Hope, she agreed to a visit.

‘Thank you, Nina,’ he said. ‘These things are much better face to face. We’ll see you shortly.’

She didn’t have time to ask who he meant by ‘we’ before he hung up. Himself and Eleanor? Henry and Eleanor and Hope, dragged along to apologise? How was Nina going to be able to sit with all three of them and act as if everything was normal? Pretend she heard stories of affairs like theirs every week and they didn’t bother her in the slightest?

There wasn’t time to ring Hilary to ask her advice. She was too busy tidying the house, sweeping the kitchen floor and cursing the fact she worked from home, which meant the living room was taken up with her easels and canvases and paints.

She called Tom three times from the front verandah but he didn’t answer. She went to the very bottom of their garden and called again. He was building a tree house, he’d told her that morning. She just didn’t know in which tree. There were hundreds of them in the paddocks around their house. He finally heard her the fourth time.

‘Tom, come home. Quick!’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘The Templetons are coming. The father and some others.’

A minute passed before Tom came into sight. He looked like he’d been rolling in dust. ‘So what? They’re just people.’

‘No, they’re not.’

‘They are. I’ve met them.’

He ambled towards her. She had to stop herself from shouting at him to hurry up. ‘Quick. Go inside and comb your hair.’

He ran his hands through his hair, sending up spikes. ‘No. And I’m not changing either.’ He grinned. ‘Mum, calm down.’

‘I am calm.’

In her room, Nina caught sight of herself in the wardrobe mirror. She wasn’t in the least bit calm. She was a cross between over-excited and wild-eyed. What had got into her? Why was she in such a state? She stopped, told herself to breathe deeply and relax. It was just her neighbours calling by. The neighbours she’d done her best to avoid. The neighbours she’d rung and shouted at just a month before when Tom went missing. The neighbours she’d learnt far too much about from a drunken Hope just a few days earlier … She heard the sound of footsteps on the verandah.

The neighbours who were now at her front door.

Tom got to them first. He was very relaxed. ‘Hi, Spencer. Hi, Gracie. Hi, Henry.’

‘Mr Templeton, Tom, not Henry,’ Nina said behind him, trying to hide her surprise that he’d brought his children with him to discuss a subject like Hope.

‘Oh no, Henry is fine,’ Henry Templeton said, extending a hand, smiling broadly. He introduced his two children. ‘And you must be Nina. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Again.’

‘Again?’

‘We met at your first fete. In the dining room with Tom and your sister-in-law.’

‘With Hope?’

‘Yes, Hope.’

‘Uh-oh,’ Spencer said.

Henry frowned. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t remember that occasion. We’ve had quite a few people through the house since then.’

‘Was Hope dressed? Drunk? Throwing herself down the stairs?’ Spencer asked in a bored voice.

Henry placed a hand on his son’s shoulder but didn’t seem too concerned. ‘That’s enough, Spencer. I’m sorry, Nina. Can you remind me what happened? It clearly upset you if you can remember it more than two years later.’

‘Your sister-in-law made some racist comments. You came in and spoke to me then.’

‘Was I masterful? Did I deal promptly with the awkward situation?’

She stood up straighter. ‘It wasn’t a laughing matter, actually.’

‘I can see that now. I do apologise again.’ He paused. ‘May we come in, all the same?’

‘Yes. Yes, of course.’

As she led them inside, Nina could see all three Templetons taking in every detail of her living room, from the non-matching furniture to the second-hand curtains to her painting paraphernalia in one corner. The whole room suddenly looked too small, too crowded, too colourful, lacking in any real style. She was embarrassed for herself and Tom.

‘It’s beautiful,’ Gracie said, gazing around. ‘I’d love to live here.’

Nina couldn’t stop a laugh. ‘I’m sure. Swap your house for this one?’

‘But it feels so warm and it looks so inviting. Doesn’t it, Dad?’

Inviting? Where had a child of that age learnt a word like that? Calling her father ‘Dad’ surprised Nina too. What had she expected, though? Your Majesty?

‘You’re an artist?’ Henry Templeton said. ‘Well, of course you are. Unless this is all your work, Tom, is it?’

‘I taught her everything she knows,’ Tom said.

They all laughed.

‘Please, sit down,’ Nina said, hoping to distract them from her paintings. ‘Can I get you a cold drink? Coffee? Tea?’

‘Tea would be lovely for all three of us.’

Of course, Nina thought, kicking herself for offering. What did she have? Six chipped mugs, teabags and a packet of yo-yo biscuits. What were they used to? Fine china, imported tea, wafer-thin cucumber sandwiches?

‘Can I help?’ Gracie asked. ‘I love making tea.’

‘Thanks, but no, I’m fine,’ Nina said. The living room was chaotic enough. She didn’t need the Templetons seeing her kitchen as well.

‘She’s a very good helper,’ Henry said. ‘She’s also not good at taking no for an answer. Are you, Gracie?’

‘Only when I really want to do something. And I do love making tea.’

Nina gave in. Gracie followed her into the kitchen, then stopped, looking around at the brightly painted walls, the open shelves of coloured plates and mugs, the large window overlooking the back paddock. As Nina put the kettle on to boil, the little girl turned in a full circle, gazing at the opposite wall covered in small framed landscape paintings, before sighing softly. ‘Your kitchen is lovely too. Did you really do all these paintings? How long have you lived here, Nina? Do you have a husband?’

Nina’s surprise at the sudden rush of questions must have showed.

Gracie blushed. ‘I’m sorry. Mum always tells me off for being too curious. You don’t have to answer me. That was just to give you an idea of the sorts of things I would ask if it wasn’t so rude.’

Nina smiled then. ‘You weren’t being rude. It’s good to be curious. Let me ask you a question first, though. How old are you?’

‘I’m eleven,’ Gracie said, beaming. ‘Spencer is ten. Audrey is sixteen. Charlotte is seventeen, nearly eighteen. Mum is thirty-nine. Dad’s about to turn fifty. We’ve lived here at Templeton Hall for two years. Before that we moved all over England because of Dad’s job. Is Tom your only child?’

As the kettle boiled with a loud whistle, Nina nodded, glad of the interruption. She watched as Gracie expertly warmed the teapot, put in the teabags and poured in the water, talking all the while. ‘I hope you don’t mind us arriving out of the blue like this. We’ve been discussing it for the past few days. We need your help, you see.’

‘With Hope?’

‘Hope?’ Gracie looked puzzled. ‘No. Why would we need your help with her? She’s gone.’

‘Gone?’

Gracie nodded. ‘Back to England, last week. It was the best for everybody. Mum’s gone with her, just to get her settled. Hope has problems with her moods. And her nerves. And drink. And tablets. Lots of problems, really. Charlotte and Audrey, my sisters – have you met them yet? No. Well, they call her Hopeless, which is funny but mean, Dad says. Mum says we have to be understanding, that Hope isn’t well. Do you have a sister?’

Nina was trying to keep up. ‘Yes, one. Her name’s Hilary.’

‘Is she sane?’

‘Yes, perfectly.’

‘Good,’ Gracie said solemnly.

‘But if you’re not here about Hope, why are you here?’

Gracie lowered her voice. ‘It’s about Spencer. He’s getting out of hand again.’

‘Your parents want my help with Spencer?’

‘Not yours, your son’s,’ Gracie said, speaking at a normal volume again. ‘Mum and Dad think Spencer is bored on his own so much, so they’ve decided it might be a good idea if your son comes and plays with him sometimes. Especially over the next week or two while we’re unofficially on school holidays, with Mum being away. She home-schools us, you see. In the drawing room. But we’re on a break and Spencer is at a loose end. That’s why we’re here. To ask your permission about your son. Will you let him?’

Nina was again having trouble keeping up. ‘Let who?’

‘Let Tom play with Spencer. Though I’d say it will be Spencer playing with Tom here, with that dam you have. Spencer took me there to catch yabbies but I didn’t want to. It’s more of a boy thing to do, don’t you think? Shall we take the tea in now?’

When they came in, Henry was alone in the living room, looking at Nina’s paintings. He turned, came across and took the tray from her. ‘Lovely, thank you so much. I can’t pretend it was an arduous journey over. What is it, ten minutes walk at the most? So I’m hardly dying of thirst but I could drink tea all day long.’

‘You don’t, though,’ Gracie said, reaching for the teapot and beginning to pour. ‘You drink it in the day and then you have wine at night. Or whisky.’

‘That’s right, Gracie. So I do.’ He nodded towards the paintings. ‘Your work is charming, Nina. So evocative. You capture the mood of the landscape perfectly.’

Thrown by the praise, Nina thanked him, then changed the subject. ‘Where are the boys?’

‘Tom said something about a cubbyhouse,’ Henry said. ‘Spencer said something like “Cool.” Then they were gone, faster than the speed of light. Never mind. It might be easier to talk about them while they’re not here.’

Nina was wondering if she could feign ignorance about what she’d just been told in the kitchen, when Gracie made the decision for her.

‘I was just telling Nina the reason we’re here, Dad,’ Gracie said in a composed voice. ‘I hope I didn’t make Spencer sound too wild or out of control, did I, Nina?’

‘No, no, you didn’t.’

‘He is, though, isn’t he, Dad?’ She turned back to Nina. ‘We gave him a chemistry set for his birthday and it was a big mistake. Stink bombs. Explosions. He mixed up some powders once and put them in all the toilets – sorry, the lavatories – and you’ve never seen such a mess. You see, it reacted with —’

‘That’s probably enough detail, Gracie, thank you. We’re here to make a good impression, not scare Nina.’

‘I just thought it was best to be as candid as possible.’

‘Candid?’ Nina said.

Gracie gave her a sympathetic look. ‘It means truthful, straightforward. Nina thought we were here to talk about Hope, Dad. So I informed her that Hope and Mum were in England —’

Henry put his mug back on the tray. ‘Gracie, would you like to go and find the boys?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Gracie, would you like to go and find the boys?’

‘You mean you want me to leave so you and Nina can talk in private?’ At Henry’s nod, she stood up. ‘How long will I give you?’

‘Five minutes should be fine. I don’t want to take up any more of Nina’s time. I’m sure we’ve interrupted her work as it is.’

‘Five minutes. Good, see you then.’ At the door, Gracie turned back. ‘Do I have to play with the boys? Have you any pets, Nina?’

Nina was now finding it hard not to smile. ‘We have hens, a lizard that lives under the tank and a fairly wild cat. He’s called Tiger.’

‘I’ll take my chances with Tiger. See you in five minutes.’

They could hear her calling the cat’s name even before they heard the back door open.

Nina turned to Henry Templeton, once again fighting a feeling of unreality. Henry Templeton of Templeton Hall was here in her living room, drinking tea out of her mug and looking like there was nowhere he’d rather be. He also seemed to be in no hurry to begin the conversation about Spencer.

Nina was quick to fill the silence. ‘She’s quite something, that daughter of yours.’

He smiled. ‘She is, isn’t she? Precocious, really, though I’m sure she’d give us four other words with a similar meaning. Our own fault, of course. She is constantly stimulated and constantly curious, which we thought was marvellous until we realised there’s no off button. You don’t have to answer all her questions. I find it works well to tell her she needs to be patient. That she can’t learn everything all at once or her brain might explode. But then of course she asked me were there any documented examples of a brain exploding due to too much information.’

Nina laughed, about to share a similar story about Tom, when she stopped herself. ‘So, you wanted to talk to me about Spencer?’

‘I did, yes. Let me explain, Nina. The two children are usually home-schooled, but with their mother away at the moment, I’ve realised Spencer is lacking any structure to his day. Gracie’s happy to keep studying but Spencer definitely needs company. He has so much energy, you see. And the other problem is he’s fearless. If you tell him something’s dangerous, he wants to try it then and there.’

‘He sounds like most boys.’

‘Does he? After three daughters, we still don’t know what’s hit us. That’s why we’re here to ask your help. Or your son’s help, at least. We are wondering if we could come to some sort of arrangement regarding Tom spending time with Spencer?’

‘Arrangement? As in a timetable?’

‘We can have a timetable, of course. What I meant was a financial arrangement.’

‘You want to pay Tom to play with your son?’

‘Yes, of course. We got off to such a bad start with you when Tom went missing that day. We can’t just march in here and say, “Our son needs company. Can we borrow your son for a few hours a week to try and run some of the energy out of ours?” ’

‘Why can’t you? Isn’t that how friendships are made the world over?’

‘But we didn’t want to seem presumptuous. If you’d been at all interested in your son becoming friends with our son, you’d have visited us long before now. Long before Tom and Spencer came across each other themselves.’

Nina was wavering between being taken aback and annoyed. She decided on annoyed. ‘How do you think Spencer would feel if he heard his father had to buy friends for him?’

‘Spencer already knows. It was his idea.’

Nina blinked. ‘Is he really that bad? He can’t make friends on his own?’

‘I’m not sure if bad is the right word. A little dangerous to be around, but he’s great company. You just have to keep your wits about you. He hides. Climbs. Makes things. Then destroys them. He was active enough in the UK. He moves at twice the speed here. All this space, I suppose.’

‘Moving countries when he was so young was probably disruptive for him.’ Nina couldn’t believe she was calmly offering her opinion.

‘It was disruptive for us all, yes. But exciting too. You’ve never been back to the Hall since the fete, have you? And all because of Hope. Nina, I do apologise again. She’s – let me think how best to put it – a very fragile person. A difficult person in many ways. But what a shame that she turned you against us.’

Nina couldn’t stop herself. ‘It wasn’t just that.’

‘Oh, dear. There was more?’

She wanted to tell him, she realised. After being so private for so long, she suddenly wanted to tell someone – to tell him – everything. About Nick’s death, about running away, time after time, until she found this place, thinking it was a sanctuary of sorts. Until the Templetons arrived and somehow began to unsettle her. Henry Templeton was watching her. Giving her his full attention. It made her feel … good. Yes, good. Interesting. Worthy of attention. She would tell him. It was only fair. She had judged him, it seemed, from afar and too quickly. She could almost hear Hilary urging her on. ‘Clear the air, Nina. It’ll do you good.’ She took a breath, about to speak —

‘Has that been five minutes?’ It was Gracie, back in the doorway, holding an annoyed-looking ginger cat. ‘He was sleeping in the sun,’ she said. ‘Is he a house cat or an outside cat?’

‘He’s an indoor and an outdoor cat,’ Nina said, glad and sorry for the interruption.

‘Test that, Gracie, would you?’ Henry said. ‘Take him outside for five more minutes and see if he’s happier there.’

‘You haven’t finished talking yet?’

‘That’s it.’ He waited until the door closed and then turned his attention back to Nina. ‘My apologies. You were about to tell me why you decided you didn’t like us.’

‘I’m sorry. I don’t even know you. It’s unfair.’

‘Life can be unfair. But I’m curious now. We don’t have much to do with local people.’

‘No, that causes some problems.’

‘It does? But why?’

‘Gossip abhors a vacuum, I suppose. What people don’t know about you they make up. You chose to keep your distance, so people decided —’

‘That we think we’re better than them?’ At Nina’s nod, he continued. ‘So the fete didn’t work? That’s why we decided to hold it, you know. To show everyone locally what we were doing.’

‘They thought you were just showing off.’

‘I suppose we were.’

‘It worked, then.’

He smiled. ‘Nina, I really should have called over to you earlier. This is fascinating. We’ll get back to you and Tom in a moment, I promise. I want to find out more about ourselves first, before Gracie comes back. Tell me, why else do people dislike us?’

After today she’d probably never speak to Henry Templeton again. She may as well tell the truth. ‘Initially it was because you didn’t hire locals to help with the renovations.’

‘But we needed experts. We needed the work done quickly. You mean there were qualified stained-glass repair people nearby? Interior designers experienced in the recreation and sourcing of colonial-style wallpapers, carpets and linen? Authentic 1860s furniture suppliers? So we were condemned for using imported experts. I’d argue that point, but never mind for the moment. Why else don’t people like us?’

‘Because you haven’t joined any of the local associations or business groups.’

‘But why should we?’

‘Good manners? Curiosity? Good business practice?’

‘But it’s good business practice to keep ourselves apart. That’s the whole mystique of us, surely? Why would people pay good money to visit the Hall, to hear us talk, to go on our tours if they’d already met us for coffee or stood next to me at a local sausage sizzle?’

The casual term made Nina smile. ‘What do you know about sausage sizzles?’

‘We read the local paper from cover to cover. We like to keep in touch. I’m not being sarcastic. I mean it. Nina, one of the best forms of business promotion is word-of-mouth. Let me put it like this. If you were a visitor to the area, and someone said to you (a) there’s a family of English people living in a big house near here who run a kind of museum. In fact, there’s one of them now, in a tracksuit, or (b) there’s a very peculiar English family who seem to think they’re living in colonial times and we hardly ever see them in town. There’s something very odd about them. Which would intrigue you the most? Which would make you determined to go and investigate for yourself?’

‘B, of course. That’s why you keep yourself so apart?’

‘That, and the fact that the blasted Hall takes so much work that Eleanor and I barely have time to talk to each other and the children, let alone any already hostile and suspicious local people. Also, I don’t like meetings. Can’t bear them.’ He smiled. ‘Thank you. For someone tucked away in the middle of a paddock like this, Nina, you have your finger on the pulse. This is wonderful, like market research without all the bother.’

‘I’m not telling you anything you wouldn’t hear from anyone else. You could walk down the main street of Castlemaine and you’d hear far more than I could tell you.’

‘Ah, but none of them would be as friendly as you. Or such a good listener. I feel like I could talk to you for hours.’ He laughed then. ‘Perhaps it helps that you’ve not been married to me for nearly twenty years. Eleanor always tells me I am too vain, but it’s not vanity talking about yourself, is it? It’s curiosity, I think. I find it helps to talk aloud when one is trying to understand one’s motives, beliefs and experiences. Now you, Nina. Tell me about you. Who you are. Why you’re here. About your painting.’

She tried not to react to the sudden switch in subject. Hilary appeared in her mind’s eye again. ‘Have fun. Enjoy this. How often do you talk to attractive men?’ An admission in itself that she found Henry Templeton attractive? But he was, in a tall, lean, English way. She changed position in her seat, trying to appear relaxed and poised, all at once. It was quite difficult. ‘I’m not from here either. That’s the starting point, I suppose.’

‘Ah, so you’re one of us. A blow-in. Isn’t that the term?’

‘That’s it, though my arrival was a little less flamboyant than yours, I think.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that. I’m sure you would stand out in any crowd. Your colouring is very striking, by the way, that dark hair and those lovely eyes.’

He didn’t say it in a sleazy way. He just sounded matter-of-fact, which made it all the more affecting. Nina found herself abruptly changing the subject and asking after Eleanor, whether she’d be away long.

‘We don’t know yet. Eleanor’s taken her sister home, back to friends who have a house in Surrey. The difficulty with Hope, you see, is —’

‘Can I come back in yet? I’ve run out of distractions and I can’t find Spencer or Tom anywhere.’ It was Gracie, back again.

Henry smiled at his daughter. ‘Gracie, perfect timing. Come in. I’ve just finished telling Nina all about our family. But it turns out she knew most of it already.’

Gracie looked pleased. ‘We can tell you even more things once you start visiting us, Nina. You can come too, you know. It’s not just Tom we want to hire.’

‘Ah, yes, the financial arrangement. Thank you, Gracie, for subtly moving the subject in that direction. And once again, Gracie, I need you to make yourself scarce. I’m sure Nina would rather have a conversation about money with just one of us, not the whole family.’

‘Gracie, you don’t need to leave. I don’t need to be paid, Henry, and nor does Tom. I’d be insulted if you paid us.’

Gracie frowned. ‘But you banned Tom from seeing Spencer again. You rang in a fury. I heard Mum and Dad talking about it. That’s why we thought we’d have to offer you money. Mum said things had come to a pretty pass when she had to start buying friends for Spencer, but if that was the only option, so be it. That’s what she said, Dad, isn’t it?’

Henry shot Nina a brief, amused glance before turning to his daughter. ‘Thank you, Gracie, but please, off you go again. Five more minutes.’

‘But where do I go this time?’

‘The boys are probably down at Tom’s new tree house,’ Nina said. ‘In the paddock near the main road.’

‘A tree house? Not just a cubbyhouse? I love tree houses.’ She ran outside.

Henry turned his attention back to Nina. ‘I’m sorry not to couch this in any more elegant or less desperate terms, but can we call on your neighbourly assistance with Spencer? Perhaps Tom might even enjoy Spencer’s company, or all our company over at the Hall? You might even enjoy some peaceful time yourself?’

‘Peaceful? After what you’ve told me Spencer gets up to and what I know Tom would like to get up to?’

Henry smiled. ‘Perhaps it will be a case of like meeting like, the two of them burning themselves out and immediately turning into studious, book-reading, stay-at-home boys?’

‘Either that or you and I could take turns checking them for explosives.’

Henry smiled again. A genuine, proper smile. Not the practised, persuasive one she’d seen several times that afternoon already. This was different. The angular lines of his face softened, his eyes creased. He changed from being remotely attractive to being completely attractive, the soft laugh he gave only adding to it all. She suddenly understood why Hope could have done everything she had.

‘You’re sure we can’t pay you, Nina? Pay Tom, even? Put this on a business footing?’

‘No. I mean it. I’d be insulted.’

‘Then I’ll have to think of some other way to show my gratitude.’ He gave her that smile again. The real one. ‘Nina, thank you again. So we have a deal?’

‘We have a deal,’ she said.

They were just reaching across to shake one another’s hand when they heard the sound of running feet. Gracie appeared in the doorway, white-faced. ‘Dad, quick. Call an ambulance. Spencer’s cut off his arm!’

Two hours later, all five of them made their way from the local hospital’s emergency department back to Nina’s car. Spencer hadn’t cut off his arm, but had fallen from the tree house, badly cutting his hand on the barbed-wire fence on the way down. Nina had hurriedly got everyone into her car, while Henry used his shirt to staunch the blood. After a fortunately short wait at the hospital, Spencer’s wound had been disinfected, stitched up, bandaged and his arm put in a sling. The bravado or recklessness Henry had described earlier wasn’t evident. Spencer was now just a little boy who needed his father.

As she drove along the main road for the twenty-minute journey back to the Hall, Nina kept glancing in the rear-vision mirror. Henry and Spencer were in the back seat with Gracie. She noticed how gently Henry was holding Spencer, the constant checking that he was okay. She’d seen that same display of love when they’d run to the scene of the accident, seen it as Henry picked up his son and carried him across the paddock.

It hurt. She’d thought her jealous feelings were gone and yet here they were back again, bigger than ever, come to life in her car. It was as if they were all acting out some kind of family scene, mum and dad and their three children, heading home together after an eventful afternoon. She forced herself to look only at the road, to listen to Gracie’s constant chatter about the wards in the hospital, to smile at her perfect pronunciation of different operations, appendectomies, tonsillectomies …

Driving up the avenue to Templeton Hall made her feel even stranger. She pulled in beside the front door, as if this was normal, as if it wasn’t the first time she’d been there in two years. And even though she wanted to just wave goodbye and drive away, she got out too and followed them inside: Henry, with Spencer in his arms, Gracie and Tom.

Henry stopped in the hallway. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he said to Nina. ‘I’ll just get him settled upstairs. Gracie, fix Nina a drink, please.’

‘Henry, thanks, but we won’t stay.’

‘Of course you will. We’ve all had a shock. Please, Nina, stay.’

‘I don’t think so. Tom’s very tired.’

‘I’m not,’ Tom said immediately. ‘I’m fine.’

‘We’ll go home,’ she said firmly, not looking at her son. ‘It’s been a big day for you all.’

‘But you’ll be back tomorrow?’ Gracie said. ‘Don’t we have an arrangement now?’

‘We’ll put that on hold, won’t we?’ Nina asked Henry. ‘Until Spencer is better?’

‘I’m fine,’ Spencer said, suddenly reviving. ‘Tom, can you come over tomorrow?’

‘Mum, can I? First thing in the morning?’

How could she say no? When not just her son, but three of the Templetons were gazing at her, so sure of themselves, sure of their appeal.

They agreed on nine a.m.

It wasn’t until ten o’clock that night, after Tom had taken more convincing than usual to go to bed, that she was able to phone her sister and fill her in.

‘But this is all great,’ Hilary said. ‘Why do you sound so worried?’

‘Because I liked them too much. Gracie, Henry, even Spencer —’

‘Well, that’s something to worry about. It would be much better if you were sending your son over to play with a family you hated. Nina, what’s got into you? First you decide you don’t like them before you know anything about them, and now you decide you don’t like them because you do like them. If that makes sense.’

‘About as much sense as I’m making, I guess. But it was just so unexpected, Hilary. How easy it was to talk to Henry, especially.’

‘Your problem is —’

‘It’s been too long since I’ve spoken to any man apart from the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. Yes, I know. He’s also married, Hilary.’

Hilary laughed. ‘Nina, I’m not saying you should run off with Henry Templeton. I’m just saying relax, enjoy his company, enjoy the whole family’s company. It’ll do you good to meet new people, get out a bit more. They must have all sorts of parties and soirees.’

‘They don’t. He said they’re so busy he and his wife barely get time to talk to each other let alone anyone else.’

‘Oh, no. The old “my wife doesn’t understand me” line. So he was making a pass at you?’

‘He wasn’t. I’m over-reacting.’

‘Yes, you are. Just go with it. See what happens. It’ll be good for Tom and good for Wild Boy or whatever his name is.’

‘Spencer.’

‘That’s their main problem, if you ask me. They named their poor son after underwear. Tell your darling Henry to give him a different name, a manly name like Wolfgang or Hank, and his problems will be solved immediately.’

Nina felt calmer after she hung up. She always did after she’d spoken to Hilary. But she still found it hard to sleep. There was no going back now. A connection had been made between herself and Tom and the Templetons, whether she wanted it or not. She knew the next day would be just the start of Tom visiting the Hall. Why would he be happy with just her company when there was a huge place like the Hall to play in, a family as interesting and as unusual as them to get to know? She’d found them fascinating enough herself. She could only imagine how they seemed to a twelve-year-old boy.

It was after two before she slept. Even then, she was plagued by bad dreams. One in particular. Tom, standing on the front steps of the Hall, surrounded by the Templetons, telling her he’d decided he wanted to live with them from now on.