The pounding on the door made Judy knock over her coffee mug. Who on earth could be wanting her so urgently at half past five in the morning, she wondered, as she tried to mop up the coffee from the counter top. Mark was unlikely to be awake so early.
Nonetheless she peered carefully through the spyhole, then opened the door.
'Kate? What is it? Are you OK?'
Kate Baverstock, clutching a bathrobe round her, was leaning against the wall opposite.
'The baby's coming,' she gasped. 'The pains are so strong,' she added, and winced, bending over.
Judy tried to recall what one did. First try to calm the mother, she thought.
'Right, have you rung the hospital? Are they sending an ambulance?'
'Yes, but it's almost a month early, and I have no one to take the children.'
'Your mother? Wasn't she supposed to be helping out?'
'She's in Tenerife, not due back until the end of the week.'
Judy tried not to panic herself. Kate's twin toddlers were delightful little girls, but she had only ever babysat for Kate when they were safely in bed. She braced herself. She had to offer. After all, she and Kate were friends, and Kate was a good neighbour.
'I can stay with them until Bill gets home. When's he due back?'
Bill was a flight steward, and Judy prayed he wasn't off on a three-day trip.
'He'll be back mid-morning. Thanks, Judy. I have to go and pack my case.'
'I'll be over as soon as I'm decent.'
As she changed out of the overlarge tee shirt she used as a nightie Judy tried to feel sympathetic. She'd been planning to leave before six, partly to avoid the early rush hour traffic, partly so that Mark would not see her and resume the argument they seemed to have been having for the past three months. Now she might not get away until lunchtime. Well, at least he would not find her in Kate's flat. She put her cases close to the front door, ready to load into her car as soon as Bill was home, and checked everything was switched off, the fridge empty, her duvet pulled neatly across her bed. She had to leave the flat tidy in case the estate agents came round with a potential buyer. She heard the ambulance arrive as she locked the front door.
*
It was only a short taxi ride to the friend's house where he had left his car. Justin gratefully accepted a cup of strong black coffee, then set off for the flat his firm had rented for him until his own was ready. It was the top floor of an Edwardian villa, and would have to do for a month. It was his own fault for coming home earlier than he was expected, instead of staying for the full time he'd planned on the Indian trip, but he hadn't fancied more of that on his own. At least he would have time away from the office routine to work on the next house, a commission he had picked up while in Oman.
As he tried to sort out the keys left for him, the front door opened and a plump, middle-aged woman looked him up and down.
'Are you Mr Danby?'
He nodded. 'I am.'
'The new tenant of the penthouse apartment?'
Justin stifled a grin. From the details he had seen he didn't feel a one-bedroom flat in the former servants' attics justified such a description.
'I am. And you are?'
'Mrs Wetherby. I live on the ground floor, and I offered to meet you and explain. I'm afraid, Mr Danby, there has been a slight accident.'
Justin raised his eyebrows. 'Accident?'
'Yes. A leak. The water tank burst last week. The apartment is, I'm afraid, quite unusable. You see, all the ceilings came down. We are fortunate the damage was confined to that floor.'
Fortunate for her, Justin thought. He was exhausted from the overnight flight, and wanted only to collapse into a bed. He'd have to find a hotel.
Mrs Wetherby was speaking again and he forced himself to listen.
'The agents asked me to tell you that if you called on them they would be happy to show you what other apartments are currently available. You do have their address? You can park in the multi-storey by the station, and it's only five minutes away, just off the pedestrian part of the High Street.'
Justin managed to thank her without giving way to his angry frustration. If the agents had not been able to contact him for a whole week, when they had his mobile number and his email, he was not going to waste time looking for their offices, and then, no doubt, be offered numerous unsuitable alternatives. He would make his own arrangements.
*
When Bill arrived home he was understandably anxious about Kate.
'Can you stay while I go to the hospital?' he asked.
Judy sighed. 'I have to be at my sister's today. She's going on holiday, and I'm looking after her dogs.' On what should have been her wedding day, she thought, she was instead going to spend a month with two dogs. 'Isn't there anyone else you can call on? What about that girl Gemma who sometimes babysits? Schools are closed, she may be able to come.'
'I'll ring her.'
To Judy's relief Gemma was able to come, so by eleven she was able, at last, to get away. She'd seen Mark leave in his car an hour earlier, so got her cases downstairs and into her car, and was away before he knew about it. As she pulled out into the main road she heaved a deep sigh. She had made it, and Mark would be unable to find her. Maybe this time he would believe her, and she had four weeks of freedom to concentrate on building up her new business.
Her relief was short lived. By now the traffic round Manchester was heavy, and then she hit the lunchtime rush hour on the M6 round Birmingham. There was no way she could get to Fay's before her sister had to leave for the airport.
As she left the M5 for the M42 she pulled into a service station. She was desperate for a coffee, not having had any that morning. And she needed to let Fay know she would be late.
Fay answered on the first ring. She sounded fraught.
'Judy? Where are you? No problems, I hope?'
'Fay, I'll be late, but I will get there this evening.' Judy explained.
'I'll leave the house key in the dog kennel, then,' Fay said. 'No one will look there, even though the dogs never use it. I have to go soon. Sure you know how to get here?'
'You sent directions, and I think I'm capable of following them. Go and enjoy your holiday. My love to Paul.'
Fay huffed. 'If I get to see him!'
'Why? What do you mean?'
'He's gone off early, said he had something to do first, and we'll meet at Heathrow. But you know Paul, he has no idea of time once he starts talking about his photography. I just hope he gets there in time, but I'm going, whether he turns up or not.'
'He'll be there.' Judy tried to sound confident, but she knew her brother-in-law. 'Now don't worry, it will all be OK, and you just have to forget work and enjoy Australia.'
As she switched off her phone she knew her advice had been wasted. Fay was incapable of forgetting work. Her sister was a talented interior designer, and though Judy knew she had completed her latest job, on a prestigious new hotel, she would no doubt be thinking about whatever the next project was.
She was more concerned about the state of her sister's marriage. If only she could have talked to Fay, properly, but she hadn't seen her sister for almost a year. Phone calls and text messages were not the same as a face to face conversation, and she was certain all was not well. Fay had refused to admit it, but Paul had been away from home much more than usual during the past year.
It had seemed such an ideal marriage three years ago. Both were artistic, doing well in their careers. Fay had progressed from her first job furnishing show houses for a large firm of builders, to individual ones such as the hotel she had just been decorating and furnishing. Paul Morris was making a name for himself with his wild-life photography, but it had meant he travelled all over the world on his commissions. That was partly why Fay had adopted her dogs, abandoned ones she had found at a rescue kennels. She had once admitted to Judy that she felt lonely at times. And Paul, when he had once answered the phone one evening, had been unusually curt as he told her Fay was out.
'Working, she says,' he'd added. 'Why that has to include dinners at fancy restaurants, I don't know. I'll tell her you called.'
Was there another man in Fay's life? Was this what was wrong? Had she become involved with someone else just because she was left so much on her own? Judy shrugged. There was nothing she could do about it if Fay didn't confide in her, and perhaps this trip, arranged only a couple of weeks ago, would help. Or, she thought gloomily, finish it if they found they could not enjoy being together. Glancing at her watch she hurried over her coffee and set off again. It would take her hours to reach the south coast town where Fay lived, and though she had tried to sound happy about her ability to find the new house, things could easily go wrong.
*
It was dark when she pulled into the driveway alongside a smart sports car. Fay had not told her she had changed her car. She and Paul must be doing well, financially, able to take off on a month-long holiday to Australia, though Paul would no doubt make money from it with his photography.
She got out of her Corsa and stretched. It had been a long and frustrating day, and she had eaten just a sandwich picked up at a service station on the M40 when it had been clear she would not get to Fay's until late in the evening. If it hadn't been for the dogs she would have given up and found somewhere to stay the night. There had been a massive traffic jam on the M40, and then another near Gatwick causing a long, tedious and slow diversion because an accident had closed the motorway.
She must ring the hospital tomorrow and find out how Kate was. Tonight she was too weary, longing only for something to eat and bed. Looking round the Close, Judy admired the setting. Fay and Paul had bought the house six months ago, and she had seen only photographs. A dozen detached executive neo-Georgian houses were clustered round a patch of open ground on which several small trees had been planted with mathematical precision. It wasn't her sort of place, but for a month Cherry Tree Close suited her very well. She could relax, free of the constant expectation of seeing Mark and having to try and convince him their engagement was over.
Fay had, as promised, left the keys in the dog kennel. The lights in the Close didn't spread into the back gardens, but Judy had a torch in the car, which miraculously had batteries still working. She grinned wryly. That was something she had to thank Mark for. He fussed continuously, frequently infuriating her as he tried to organise her life, but occasionally, she thought, his fussing could be useful.
Judy found the keys, then, heaving two suitcases out of the boot, her laptop and a heavy tote bag from the back seat, she went to the front door. Inside the house she dragged her suitcases into the hall, and dumped the laptop on the hall table. Behind what she assumed was the door to the kitchen at the back of the hall she heard snuffling noises. Two eager dogs emerged when she opened the door, jumping up and trying to lick her face.
'Fat lot of good you pair are as guard dogs,' she muttered as she patted them. She liked dogs and was happy to help out. Fay would not consider putting them in kennels, and given their early somewhat chequered lives, Judy sympathised. She promised them food and walkies later, and took the tote bag upstairs. It had what she'd need for the first night, and as she must give the dogs a short walk, she'd be too knackered to unpack the rest tonight. All she wanted was a cup of tea, some food, and bed.
Upstairs she pushed open the door of the spare room, the one with the en suite which Fay had told her was all ready for her. The curtains were closed, but she could see the outlines of furniture, and slung the tote bag onto the bed.
There was a scuffle and a few choice expletives.
'What the blazes?'
For a moment Judy froze. Burglars? No, they hadn't found the keys, she had, so they must have broken in, but they weren't likely to sleep on the job. Had Paul for some reason not gone on the trip? If so why was he in the spare room? Surely Fay would have said. Squatters, who'd known the house was empty? It hadn't been her fault she'd been delayed, and Fay had had to leave to catch the plane. Trembling, she reached for the light switch just as the bedside lamp was switched on.
A man was sitting up in the bed, his dark hair tousled, and, as far as she could see, wearing nothing to cover up impressively wide shoulders and muscular arms.
'Who the devil are you?' he demanded, irritably shoving the tote bag off the bed.
Judy took a steadying breath. At least he didn't look like a burglar, and he was older than she imagined squatters would be. Nor did he have the sort of untidy facial hair the squatters who appeared on TV seemed to sport.
'I think that's my question,' she managed. 'What are you doing here?'
He shook his head as if to clear it, and pushed back the duvet. For a horrified moment, as long brown legs emerged, Judy thought he was naked, but when he stood up, his more than six feet looming over her five feet and a bit, she breathed a sigh of relief. His briefs were skimpy, but decent. But that didn't explain why he was here.
*
'Go downstairs, I'll come and we can introduce ourselves when I'm decent.'
Judy bristled at his air of command, but she had no desire to remain in this bedroom, and she was still hungry and desperate for a cup of tea. She retrieved her tote bag and left it on the landing, then went down to the kitchen and switched on the kettle.
As she was getting bread and the makings of a sandwich out of the fridge she heard a crash upstairs, and some furious imprecations, the words 'idiotic women' floating clearly down the stairs. Then he appeared in the kitchen. He'd put on a towelling robe, one Judy had given Fay some years ago which had Snoopy pictures on it, and which Fay had relegated to the guest room. It was straining across those shoulders and gaped at the front to reveal a discreet triangle of chest hair. Judy couldn't stand men with a fur mat, nor those with naked chests. His was just right. Her faint admiration took a dive, though, at his next words.
'Did you have to leave that bag just where I would trip over it?'
'Perhaps you should look where you're going! And now, who are you and what are you doing in my sister's house?'
'Your sister? Fay is your sister? You don't look much like her.'
Fay was tall, with long blonde hair and a willowy figure. Judy was short, plumper than she liked, and had dark curly hair.
'What on earth does that matter? I'm Judy Morton, and I'm here to look after the dogs,' Judy snapped, snatching her attention back to his questions. 'Who are you, and why are you here?'
He grinned, and Judy tried not to let her anger disappear. His dark hair, too long for tidiness, had a slight wave. His cheek bones were high, almost Slavic, and his eyes were a vivid blue. His face was tanned, and from what she could see his legs and chest were tanned too. She felt a frisson along her spine, and tried to damp it down. What on earth was she thinking of, assessing this man and his attractiveness when she had just got rid of Mark, and had no desire to get involved with anyone else, for a very long time, if ever.
'May I have a cup of tea, please Miss?' he asked, deceptively meek but with a twinkle in his eyes Judy tried to ignore. He pulled a chair out and sat at the table.
So he expected to be waited on, did he? Judy slammed a mug onto the table in front of him, banged the teapot down beside it, and sat with her sandwich and her own mug facing him.
'There's milk in the fridge,' she told him, through a mouthful of food. She was hungry, and maybe the shock of finding a near-naked man in the house had increased her hunger. 'Now, are you ever going to answer me? Who are you, and what are you doing here?'
He poured out the tea, languidly fetched a carton of milk and the sugar bowl, and began dipping into the full biscuit tin Fay had left.
'I'm Justin Danby, Paul's cousin. I've just got back from a job in Oman, and he said I could stay here while I look for a flat to rent. Clearly he and your sister have a communication problem as he didn't tell me you'd be here.'
So that explained the tan, all that glorious sun in Oman, she thought, and wondered whether she would ever manage to holiday in exotic places. Perhaps if her new project was successful...
She dragged her attention back to the present.
'It was all arranged – my coming, I mean – in rather a rush. They only booked their trip a couple of weeks ago. When did you arrange it?'
Justin grinned. 'This morning, when I rang Paul. When I discovered the flat I had rented temporarily had been ruined by a water leak, he suggested I came here instead of going to an hotel. It was all so rushed I imagine he and Fay forgot to mention it.'
Judy nodded slowly. It figured. 'He had gone somewhere, she said, and was meeting her at the airport. And Paul wouldn't even think about what arrangements Fay had made for the dogs,' she went on. 'He regards them as her business, won't even take them for walks. He probably assumed, if he thought about it at all, that neighbours would be popping in, like they would if it were cats. But how did you get in? Where did you get the key? Fay left one for me in the dogs' kennel, and you clearly didn't use that.'
'I didn't break in. Paul said a neighbour had keys, and rang him to let him know I was coming. But do I get the impression my cousin is not one of your favourite men?'
'He's OK,' Judy said. 'A typical man.'
'Ouch! Well, what are we going to do? Shall I take myself off to an hotel? Or have you things to do at home? If you want to go back I can manage to walk the dogs, even feed them when they remind me. Don't worry about Fay, we often work together, she knows I can be trusted.'
'You work together?'
Was this the other man she had been speculating about, the one in Fay's life? She suppressed a twinge of envy. Fay had Paul, who was handsome enough for ten men, now perhaps she had this man too.
Justin broke a biscuit in half and tossed the pieces to the two dogs who were sitting expectantly on either side of him.
'I'm an architect, Fay often does the interior design for me.'
This became even more intriguing. If Fay really had someone else, who more likely than someone she worked with? She dragged her attention back to her own situation.
'I don't want to go home,' Judy said hurriedly, shuddering at the very idea. 'I – I was glad to get away for a while. You know, have a change. And I've never explored this part of the country, it was an opportunity to look at some National Trust houses. I don't make much use of my membership.'
He looked sceptical, but she wasn't about to explain further. It was none of his business. He gave a slight shrug, then smiled, and she had to remind herself that all men were the same, devious and untrustworthy, however attractive they seemed. In fact, the more handsome they were, the least trustworthy. Mark had film star looks, and on the surface was caring and helpful. Her girlfriends envied her, but they didn't know what a control freak he was underneath. She forced her thoughts back to the present, before she either wept or raged.
Justin was speaking. 'Well, I intended to look for another apartment, until my own is free. It's rented out for another month, and I hate hotels. I see too much of them when I'm working away. I was wondering what to do when I discovered the dogs were here. if I promise to keep out of your way, and do my share of the cooking, could we both stay? I've looked after myself for years, I'm reasonably tidy and house trained, and if you like I'll give up the en suite to you.'
Judy nodded slowly. There was really no reason not to agree, and if Paul had asked him to stay how could she justify kicking him out?
'There's another en suite, I believe. Fay showed me the pictures and the floor plans when they bought the house,' she said. 'These houses were built for up and coming tycoons. But now, I must take these dogs for a run.'
'They can go into the garden, I've already taken them for a long hike, and you look exhausted. I'll take your bags upstairs. And to say thank you I'll cook breakfast tomorrow. What time would you like it? I might even bring it to you in bed.'
'No!' Judy took a deep breath. 'I mean, don't bother. I only have toast and coffee, nothing cooked.'
He grinned at her, and she refused to smile back. He was just too darned attractive, and he knew it. But she was immune to male blandishments. After two years being engaged to Mark she wanted no more handsome men in her life.
*
She thought she would not sleep, but she must have been extra tired, for she dropped off the moment her head hit the pillow, and woke only when there was a soft tap on the door.
'Are you decent? Coffee's here.'
For a moment she thought she was still dreaming, then recalled last night's events.
'C – come in,' she said, sitting up and pulling the duvet up to her chin.
Justin appeared, carrying a tray with a cafetière, cream jug and sugar bowl, and two mugs. One was decorated with an 'Ideal Husband' logo, the other with 'My Favourite Girl'.
He parked the tray on the night table, and, grinning, poured coffee into the latter mug.
'Sugar? Cream?'
Judy shook her head. 'Black, please. Thanks, but I told you not to bother.'
He filled the other mug, poured a generous helping of cream, and scooped two spoonfuls of sugar into it.
'I've been up for hours. Took the dogs out, phoned a couple of estate agents and made appointments to view some apartments this morning, and I need to be off in exactly ten minutes.'
'I thought you were going to stay, not look for a flat?'
'Well, on second thoughts, I feel it would be better if I did move out. I'll be in your way. If I don't find one I can go to an hotel for a while.'
And me in his way, he means, she thought. So he didn't want to stay with her. Judy felt a moment's irritation, then decided it would be a good thing if he did leave.
'You said you didn't like hotels,' she felt obliged to say.
'I have a feeling you'd prefer me to move out.' He had drunk his coffee. 'Will you be OK?'
'I'm not incapable!' Judy was annoyed. 'I've lived on my own for five years, since I finished college.'
'Which makes you, let me see if my arithmetic is up to it – at least twenty-five.'
'Six,' Judy said, then mentally kicked herself.
He picked up the tray with his mug and moved to the door.
'And I'm in my prime, thirty-three. I must away. See you this evening, and if you should feel like cooking dinner, I'll take you out tomorrow. Until I can make other arrangements, we can at least be civilised.'
*
For a moment Judy contemplated throwing something at him, but he'd gone and shut the door, so she laughed instead. Did he think they were not being civilised? He had a cheek, ordering her to cook dinner, but they had, sort of, agreed to share the cooking. It would serve him right if she gave him beans on toast.
She finished the coffee, showered, and pulled on a track suit. Downstairs the dogs, Gypsy, an almost white collie cross, and Buster, an unidentifiable mixture of various terriers, fawned round her while she made toast and more coffee.
'I'll take you out later,' she told them, then set up her laptop in the small room Paul called his study. While it booted she investigated the freezer. Fay must have stocked up on freezer meals, there seemed to be nothing else there except a loaf of sliced bread and a tub of ice cream. That solved the problem of dinner, and there were tins of fruit in the cupboards. She could concentrate on catching up with work. But first she ought to ring Bill and ask how Kate was.
'Hi Judy. She's tired, but it's all OK. A boy, small, but they say he'll be all right once he's put on some weight. Kate said she'd promised to forward your letters. There were some this morning. I'll put them in the post when I go to see Kate. Is this the address? I found it by the phone.'
She confirmed it, thanked him, and said to give Kate her love. Then, hearing sounds of excited twins in the background, she rang off and started work.
After a sandwich lunch she took the eager dogs out. Behind Cherry Tree Close was a stretch of common land, and she saw several other dog walkers. Some of the dogs were off the leads, racing around, but Judy didn't dare let her two loose, in case they refused to come back to her.
They clearly had doggy friends. A golden retriever ran up, followed by a slower dachshund, and Judy found herself entangled in the leads as her pair danced around in excitement.
'Come off, you idiots! Let me sort you out.'
It was a middle-aged man, with the sturdy figure of a rugger player and a neat brown beard. He took the leads from Judy and straightened them.
'These are Fay's dogs, aren't they? Thought I recognised them. But I don't know you. I live opposite her in the Close.'
'I'm looking after them while she's away. I'm Judy Morton, Fay's sister.'
'Oh yes, she's mentioned you. I remember now. You're the clever one, according to her. I'm Ken Tibbetts. Why don't you let the dogs go? They'll come back, and they get more exercise that way.'
'Will they? I was too afraid they'd vanish.'
They walked on together. Ken taught games, he told her, and Judy suppressed a shudder. She had had enough of teachers after Mark.
'Fay says you teach art. I used to teach near Manchester, but my wife got a job down here, so I changed schools. Magda's an accountant. I was sorry in some ways to leave my last school, but then, all life's a challenge, and I wouldn't want to hold Magda back. And my new school's pleasant enough, even the staff.'
'I did teach, but I've resigned. I want to do something else,' Judy managed to say when he paused for breath.
His voice was loud, probably because he was used to bawling instructions across a playing field. And did he always talk so much?
'Your own business, she said. Something to do with art, or painting. Not that I know anything about art, but when I see a painting I know at once whether I like it or not. I'll be interested in seeing some of yours.'
Not if I can help it, Judy thought. She had no desire to have her work appraised by a man who knew what he liked when he saw it. Fay seemed to have said a lot about her, and Judy wondered whether the other residents of the Close knew many details of her private life.
She asked him who else lived there, and managed to say no more about herself. That wasn't difficult, Ken seemed to give her the life histories of all the other residents. When they had circled the common Ken whistled, and the dogs rushed up.
'You must come in for a drink soon, to meet Magda.'
Judy nodded, leashed her two and went indoors. She did not want to get involved in neighbourly togetherness. She'd had enough of that in the flats back in Manchester. Only Kate had been someone she wanted to spend time with. There was time to do some more work before she had to worry about dinner. Thinking about Justin sent a shiver of anticipation up her spine, and she went swiftly to her laptop. He was funny, even if domineering, but he was a man, and she'd foresworn men for the next few years or decades.
***