1

THE THIRD SATURDAY IN MARCH

‘Penny for them, Noushka.’ Kitty hitched the bulging washing basket higher on her hip, sending a sock tumbling from the pile.

‘Hmm?’ Anoushka had been leaning against the Aga, gnawing at a hangnail for the last ten minutes, her mind in turmoil. She pulled her gaze from the flagstone floor to see her step-mum smiling at her as she made her way across the sun-filled kitchen. Ethel, the family’s black Labrador, looked up from her slumber and blinked sleepily, while Mabel jumped up from her cosy spot, curled up in the crook of Eth’s tummy, and trotted over. The little cocker spaniel scooped up the stray sock, her golden tail swishing busily.

* * *

‘Everything okay?’Kitty popped the basket on the worktop and bent to retrieve the sock. ‘Thank you, Mabes, I think I’ll have that.’ Though she was smiling, the flicker of concern on her step-mum’s face didn’t escape Anoushka’s notice.

‘Yeah, everything’s fine; I was just thinking about…’ Anoushka stopped herself, biting down on her words before they came rushing out, anxiety squirming in her stomach. Right now, the last thing she needed was to share her feelings with Kitty, whose compassionate disposition had a happy knack of making it the easiest thing in the world to pour your heart out. One look from those gentle brown eyes was all it took before, whoosh, out they’d come in a torrent. Kitty always knew the right words to make you feel better, how to chase your worries away. Well, until recently, that is. And with Damon, Anoushka’s boyfriend of the last eighteen months, due in half an hour, now wasn’t the time for one ofthoseconversations. She needed to face him with a clear head, without the influence of her family – or their opinions – ringing in her ears. Not that they’d ever try to force their views on her, but this had to be her decision, and hers alone. She was twenty-two years old, for goodness’ sake.

Anoushka drew in a deep breath. ‘Just lost in my thoughts, that’s all.’ She gave what she hoped was a convincing smile as she lifted her mug of tea to her mouth.

‘You don’t say.’ Kitty laughed. The pause that followed suggested her step-mum was choosing her next words carefully; there’d been more than enough disagreements whenever Damon’s name cropped up these days to make everyone wary. It didn’t sit easy with Anoushka.

‘If there’s any more tea in that pot, I wouldn’t mind grabbing a cuppa; I’ve had an idea for what to get your dad for his birthday and I’d like to run it by you while he’s out… if that’s okay?’

‘No problem; I’ll get another mug. Damon’s not due ’til two-thirty, so….’ Her voice tailed off and she flicked her thick, flaxen, mermaid plait over her shoulder. Though she’d tried to sound breezy, she could still sense the weight of her step-mum’s gaze on her as she padded over to the mug cupboard.

‘Righty-ho, I’ll just get this washing on; I’ll be with you in two ticks.’ Kitty flashed a quick smile before disappearing into the utility room. If her body language was anything to go by, it was evident she too was mindful of treading gently, of being careful to skirt around the subject – or rather, theperson– who had been the catalyst to so many arguments that had rocked the usually calm Cartwright family equilibrium.

Ughh!She needed to get Damon out of her head right now if she was going to have a comfortable conversation with Kitty. But with what she had looming ahead of her that afternoon, it wasn’t going to be easy. A feeling of dread pooled in her stomach.

The sound of the washing machine filling with water pulled Anoushka back into the moment. She released a slow sigh. Jeez, since when had her life got so complicated? She glanced around the room. With its low-beamed ceiling, stout mullioned windows and thick, uneven walls, the kitchen was the epitome of cosiness and countryside charm with the aroma of hearty home-cooking imbued in its very fabric. Her heart lifted every time she stepped through the door of the quaint, traditional longhouse with its heavily thatched roof that put her in mind of a fringe desperately in need of a trim. Her thoughts wandered back to when she and her dad first moved into Oak Tree Farm five years earlier, joining Kitty and her two children, Lucas and Lily. As an exuberant teenager, Anoushka’s mind hadn’t been in turmoil then, it had been brimming with unbridled enthusiasm and optimism for their future together as a family. A proper family, at last! It was no exaggeration to say she’d been deliriously happy. Her greatest wish had come true when her dad had finally got together with Kitty. The pair had been childhood sweethearts until Kitty had been lured away by the über confident Dan Bennett who, despite everyone’s warnings, she’d ended up marrying. Though Anoushka wasn’t in possession of all the facts, she’d gleaned enough snippets of information to know that her step-mum had endured several years of mind games and controlling behaviour throughout her marriage at the hands of her ex-husband. She’d only stuck it out for the sake of her children, until it had started to affect them too. “Gaslighting” was a word that had been bandied about regularly when Dan’s name had cropped up in the conversations she’d overheard between Kitty and her best friends, Molly and Violet. And, rather worryingly, it had become increasingly familiar; they could almost have been talking about Damon.

‘Phew! Sorry that took so long; lots of pockets to check for the dreaded paper hankies and hair-bobbles.’ Kitty flopped down opposite Anoushka at the scrubbed pine table. So,’ she said, picking up the teapot and filling her mug, ‘you don’t need me to tell you how tricky your dad is to buy for.’

Thoughts of Damon scurried away. ‘Too right!’ Anoushka laughed and rolled her ice-blue eyes. ‘He’s been absolutely no help whenever I’ve asked if he needs anything; at this rate, he’s in serious danger of getting nothing more exciting than socks from me.’

‘Well, he always needs those.’ Kitty giggled. ‘Anyway, after racking my brains for something inspiring to get him I was flicking through theHeather and Daleand spotted this.’ She pushed the small moorland magazine – filled with a mix of adverts placed by local businesses, articles on local history, nature and anything else the editor, Freya Ingleby, thought would be of interest to its readers – over to Anoushka. It was open on a full-page advertisement for fly-fishing lessons at Danskelfe, the nearest village to Lytell Stangdale. ‘He and Jimby have been talking about having a go at fishing for a while now, and I was wondering if I should book a lesson for the pair of them. What do you think?’

‘I think it sounds like a great idea, especially if Jimby goes with him; they’ll have a right good laugh together.’ Anoushka scanned the advert, thinking it would be good for her dad to try his hand at something new; he worked long hours as a much-in-demand local joiner, not that he ever grumbled about it.

‘Mmm. That’s what I thought, so long as Jimby doesn’t end up in the lake, that is. You know what he’s like, he can’t seem to walk down the road without having some kind of mishap,’ Kitty said with another giggle.

‘Don’t I just.’ Anoushka couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. Only last week Kitty’s accident-prone older brother had ended up headfirst in the local pond trying to rescue a stray cat from the huge willow tree whose branches reached across the water. News of his dousing had travelled like wildfire around the village and he’d been ribbed mercilessly in the local pub ever since.

‘Seriously though, I think it’s a fab idea; Dad’ll love it.’ Anoushka closed the magazine and passed it back to Kitty. ‘Maybe I could get him a book on fishing to go with it.’

‘Good idea,’ said Kitty, nodding her approval.

Talk of her dad’s birthday had helped dissipate the awkward air of earlier, leaving the two women comfortable in one-another’s company once more. It was a blessed relief for Anoushka to feel the tension slip away from her body for a moment.

‘Well, that’s sorted then; I’ll call the number this afternoon and get a gift voucher organised.’ Kitty patted the cover, a beam spreading across her pretty elfin features.

‘And you’re sure we can’t tempt you to join us help celebrate his birthday meal? You can bring Damon if you like. It’s just going to be at the Sunne. I’ve booked a table for one of Bea’s legendary curry nights. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind adding an extra seat… or two… the usual folk will be there…’ The caution threaded through Kitty’s last sentence was tangible. Her step-mum didn’t need to say whenever Damon was involved in any of their get-togethers the atmosphere was always fraught.

‘Erm, I’m not sure… I’ll have to check.’ And just like that, the tension sprang back. More and more recently, Damon’s name had a knack of triggering that. Only now, Anoushka could understand why. She appreciated Kitty’s kind-hearted gesture, but she still didn’t feel ready to tell her of her intentions to break up with Damon just in case things didn’t go to plan. Anoushka desperately wanted to join her family at the Sunne but, equally, she didn’t want Damon there. She hated being in such a dilemma. Much as he professed to despise family get-togethers and did all he could to avoid them, Anoushka knew from experience that Damon would kick off if he wasn’t invited to her dad’s birthday celebrations. Big time. And it wasn’t as if she could keep it from him and go on her own since she always spent the weekend at his place in York. Wriggling out of that would take some doing and the potential trouble that would ensue didn’t bear thinking about. And, besides, she’d already let slip that her dad’s birthday was coming up and that Kitty was planning a meal to celebrate. Anoushka also knew, even if she invited Damon, he’d whinge and moan about how he didn’t want to go, making the run-up to it hell. She wouldn’t put it past him to try to talk her out of going too. It wouldn’t be the first time, she thought wearily. But if he did join them…Ughh. That didn’t bear thinking about. True, Bea might not mind adding a seat or two to their table, but Anoushka wasn’t convinced her dad would be overjoyed if she rocked up with Damon; nor would “the usual folk” for that matter. There really wasn’t an easy option.

Anoushka released a sigh. The more she thought about it, and much as she’d love to be there celebrating with him, the last thing she wanted was to wreck her dad’s birthday get-together if she hadn’t managed to end her relationship with Damon by then. If she was honest with herself, she knew she’d be on tenterhooks the whole time, worried that Damon would say something offensive, or mock village life as he seemed to take pleasure in every time he was in their presence. It would make her gabble, like it usually did, with Damon pulling her up about it later, making her feel foolish. Just like the last time he’d joined them.

‘Was there any need for the way you were talking non-stop over the meal?’ he’d said disapprovingly when they’d joined her family and their friends for Sunday dinner at the Sunne.

‘What do you mean?’ she’d asked, well-aware of what he was referring to; she’d been conscious of it herself but hadn’t been able to stop.

‘You know full well what I mean, the way your mouth went into overdrive whenever I spoke. It was as if you were trying to diminish what I’d said. In future, I’d prefer it if you tried to keep yourself under control. You should’ve seen the way everyone was looking at you.’