Page 62 of Lessons in Life

‘Well, not here, obviously. They’re in Harrogate. With Jemima.’

‘Where are they staying?’ Anywhere, I thought, through a rictus of a smile, as long as it’s not with us.

‘Mum and Dad with Jemima. And Julius…’

‘Julius is here as well?’ I hadn’t crossed paths – or swords – with Fabian’s brother since he’d gone through my past life like someone at a jumble sale, rummaging through it until, with a cry of triumph, he’d uncovered, amongst all the detritus of my family history, the juicy little titbit he’d been convinced would end my and Fabian’s relationship.

‘And Claudia, his wife. They’re staying at The Old Swan in Harrogate.’

‘Well, that’s lovely for you. Lovely that they’re coming up north and accepting that both you and Jemima have a life here.’

‘Hmm.’ Fabian’s sigh left me in no doubt there wasn’t any actual acceptance of Fabian leaving Carrington’s, the family’s prestigious law firm that was started eons ago. More felons had been saved from the noose and from incarceration by now long-dead Carringtons at the Central Criminal Courts than I’d eaten bowls of porridge.

‘When are you going over to meet them?’

‘I said we’d drive over to Harrogate for lunch tomorrow.’

‘We? Oh, I don’t think so, Fabian. Sorry, no, really. It’s you they want to see, not me.’ I turned from him, setting off down the moorland road, heading for a footpath I knew, which overlooked Wessenden reservoir.

Fabian, dragging Boris from where he was happily sniffing the grass verge, caught up with me, grabbing at my hand. ‘Hang on. Slow down. Don’t go off on one.’

‘Fabian, really. They don’t want to see me.’ I smiled, trying to show I wasn’t sulking, hadn’t, as they said in these parts,got t’monk on.

‘Dad’s booked a table for us all at The Beech Tree.’

‘Upmarket.’

‘Always wanted to go there.’

‘Of course you have. And you must go.’

‘I’m not going without you. Come on, Robyn, I’ve integrated myself into your family…’

‘Integrated?’ I laughed. ‘Sounds like a new fridge fitted into a kitchen unit. Anyway,myfamily aren’t scary…’

‘What? Jess and Sorrel not scary? Between them they’re enough to scare the pants off any poor soft southerner with a posh accent.’

I laughed again but accepted that, yes, Fabian had done everything to become a part of myfamily while I, on the other hand, having had my fingers burnt on both occasions I’d met Julius Carrington on his home territory, wasn’t ready for another round with the racist misogynist. I sighed, calling for Boris, who’d wandered off. Maybe on neutral ground I’d fare better? Actually get on with him this time?

‘Fabian, I want your family to accept me.’

‘Jemima already does. You know that. She loved you from the minute she met you. And Dad thought you were pretty amazing too…’

‘Your dad was able to come to that conclusion after just five minutes with me at a charity barbecue?’ I gave Fabian a look before turning back to the path through the peat bog of the Pennine moorland, slipping slightly on the tussocky mounds of winter grassland.

‘It’s not just you that’ll be under scrutiny,’ Fabian argued, taking my gloved hand once more as I stumbled, placing it with his own in the deep pockets of his navy woollen jacket. ‘They’re going to be meeting Jemima’s Bruce for the first time as well, remember. That’ll take the pressure off you and me.’

‘OK, OK, I’ll come with you, and I promise I’ll be on my very best behaviour.’

‘No parroting the West Indian patois like you did last time you met them?’ Fabian laughed at the memory but then stopped suddenly, taking my hand from his pocket before wrapping both arms around me. ‘Robyn, it will be all right, believe me. I’m not going anywhere for the moment – we’ve rented the cottage for nine months – let’s just take it a day at a time.’ He lowered his head, kissing my eyes, my cheeks, my very cold nose and I knew I didn’t want to be anywhere else on this freezing January afternoon but out on these glorious moors with this heavenly man who seemed only to want to be with me too.

‘You know,’ Fabian said an hour later as we headed back to the car, ‘I think you should persuade your mum to find out more about her birth parents. It might help the three of you girls – especially Sorrel – to come to terms with her condition.’

‘How would it do that?’ I frowned. ‘Mum does some searching and ends up finding out all her blood relatives have suffered from porphyria?’ I shivered slightly. ‘Better not to know what might be in store for us, I reckon.’

‘Knowledge is ammunition.’ Fabian smiled as he unlocked the car door, towelled Boris’s large feet and encouraged him into the small space in the well of the passenger seat.

‘To blow off our heads with?’

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