was on his way. To be truthful, a part of him yearned to be reunited with his dad, yet he was nervous too. Even after all this time, it was hard to clear his mind of his mother’s bitter words about her former husband.
The dining room appeared to have changed little: the walls darkly panelled and the tables laid with crisp white linen and glinting cutlery. Each had a centrepiece of a spray of fresh flowers. He thought fondly of how Stella had always delighted in doing that job; perhaps Yvonne had taken it on.
Andrew worked his way through a large plateful of bacon, eggs and tomatoes, followed by fried puffs with syrup, toast and apricot jam, washed down with several cups of strong tea. Baroness Cusack joined them, with squeals of surprise at seeing Andrew, and as he ate he attempted to satisfy Hester’s curiosity about his life in Ebbsmouth, his mother, his aunt, his school days in Durham and his love life.
‘Do you have a photograph of your beloved?’ she asked in her forthright way.
When Andrew produced a photo of Felicity from his pocket, Hester peered at it through the pince-nez that hung from a thin chain around her neck. She handed it back with an assessing look.
‘Well?’ Andrew asked. ‘Does she pass muster?’
‘Very pretty,’ said Hester. ‘She looks quite determined.’
Andrew said in amusement, ‘She is.’
‘I hope she’s kind to you, darling.’
Andrew wasn’t sure if that was a word he would use about Felicity. ‘I’m fairly sure she loves me,’ he said with a self-deprecating smile.
‘And you’re in love with her?’ she pressed him.
‘Of course.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ said the baroness. ‘It’s wonderful to see you young ones falling in love. First Stella and her Irishman and now you and your Scottish girl.’
‘I hear Stella isn’t sure of Mr Keating’s whereabouts. Has there been any more news of him?’ Andrew asked.
‘Good question,’ said Hester. ‘It’s been a bit of a drama for the poor girl. He was working in Malaya and Singapore but got safely away. Myrtle had a letter from Stella just the other day to say that her fiancé is in South Africa. Must be a relief to know he’s safe but it doesn’t sound like they will be marrying in the near future.’
Andrew was just turning this news over in his mind when in walked Myrtle Dubois. He got up at once to greet her, repeating his condolences about Charlie’s death while she expressed the common view that he, Andrew, was just like his father. She had aged; her pretty brown eyes were sunk in patches of bluish skin and her hair had gone grey. When she wasn’t smiling, her mouth drooped in sadness.
But she seemed pleased to see him. Myrtle had always made a fuss of him as a boy and indulged him more than her own children.
‘I hope Jimmy has been looking after you. With Stella away, I’ve moved back into the bungalow to help with my grandson. You must settle in and then come and see our Charles – he’s such a dear little thing. It’s such a tonic having a little one in the family after my Charlie . . .’ Tears sprang into her eyes.
‘I’m sure he’s a great comfort,’ Andrew said kindly.
Myrtle smiled. ‘He is. And you’ll soon find out the joy of having a baby in the family too, won’t you? We’re so delighted for you all.’
Hester commented, ‘Surprised but delighted. After all this time, who would have thought it?’
Andrew looked bemused. ‘A baby? Whose baby?’
Myrtle’s look faltered. ‘Mr and Mrs Lomaxes’. Surely you’ve been told?’
Andrew gaped at her in disbelief. ‘They’ve had a baby?’
‘Oh dear,’ said Hester. ‘We’ve let the cat out of the bag. Obviously, your father wanted to tell you in person.’
Andrew was speechless.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Myrtle, ‘I thought you’d know by now. Of course, we’ve only recently been told. With Mrs Lomax coming to motherhood late, they were being very cautious. Stella’s been helping out.’
‘When did this happen?’ he managed to ask, still in shock.
‘She was born last month,’ said Myrtle.
‘She?’
‘Yes,’ said Hester. ‘You have a sister called Isobel. Isn’t that lovely news?’
Andrew didn’t know what to think. Was he pleased? ‘Yes, happy news,’ he forced himself to say. He suddenly felt terribly constricted, though; trapped. ‘Well, after that wonderful breakfast, I think I’ll go and freshen up.’
‘Of course,’ said Myrtle. ‘Is there anything else we can get you?’
‘No, nothing,’ said Andrew. ‘Nothing at all.’ He made for the door, waving at the men at