"I suppose so."

Julie smiled. All her life she had been used to boys trying to make dates with her. Some she had accepted, some she had not It was not a unique situation. What was unique was the realisation that suddenly he seemed so young, so immature. A boy instead of a man.

"How much longer do you intend to be, Miss Wood?"

Rhys's cold voice from just behind her brought all the tension flooding back again, and the eyes she turned to his face were frankly anxious.

"I'm sorry," she murmured inadequately, and Gavin turned back to his bag of tools.

But as she followed Rhys into the library, she was conscious of Gavin's eyes following her.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

JULIE'S first intimation that all was not well between herself and William came at lunchtime.

Since his recovery, he had usually come to the dining room to take his lunch. Most days, Nerys and Dulcie joined them, too, and occasionally Rhys, although often he satisfied himself with a sandwich taken in his study. But today only Dulcie came to sit with Julie at the long dining table, and the absence Qf anyone else left neither of them with much choice but to talk to one another.

Since the incident with the sh.e.l.ls, Dulcie had been perceptibly less hostile towards both Julie and William, keeping out of their way as much as possible, and indicating by her frequent grimaces at the weather that she was expecting Julie to take up her promise of allowing Dulcie to accompany her * and William on their next outing.

When it became apparent that no one else was going to join them, Julie suggested that they should begin. Mrs. Evans had left a steak and kidney pie in the middle of the table, and the serving dishes around contained potatoes and other vegetables. Dulcie made no demur when a plate of the delicious smelling pie was put in front of her, and she helped herself to peas and carrots.

"Mummy's gone to Llantreath," she volunteered, while they were eating, although truth to tell Julie was not particularly hungry. "Have you been there?"

Julie shook her head. "No. Have you?" Her response was automatic, her thoughts with William, wherever he might be.

"Only once." Dulcie was unaware of any abnormality in the situation.

"But I couldn't go today. Mummy's going to the hairdressers, and I hate waiting around for her."

Julie heard her last few words and hoped a nod would suffice in reply.

She was not really listening to her, but she couldn't help thinking how much more this conversation would have meant if William had been there, too, to hear it.

"The rain's stopped," Dulcie said, a few moments later, obviously getting round to the point of this attempt at amicability. "Will you and William he going for a walk this afternoon?"

The unconscious appeal in her voice got through to Julie, and she endeavoured to respond to it. After all, it was not Dulcie's fault this time that William had been hurt, and just because she was all mixed up inside there was no reason to go back on her word to the child.

"I...we might be," she managed at last, and Dulcie's eyes brightened.

"Can I come?"

Julie sighed. Then she nodded. "I don't see why not. Providing your mother doesn't object."

"Oh, Uncle Rhys spoke to Mummy. She won't mind," said Dulcie confidently. She paused. "But where is William?" Suspicion clouded her expression. "He hasn't gone with Mummy and Uncle Rhys, has he?"

Julie's lips parted. "I-Uncle-Rhys-has gone with your -mummy?"

"To Lkntreath. Yes, I told you." Dulcie was sulky.

Julie put down her knife and fork. "Well, perhaps William has gone with them, after all." But she didn't really believe it.

"He wouldn't!" Dulcie pursed her lips petulantly. "Uncle Rhys Wouldn't take William and not me!"

"But you just said that your mother was going to the hairdressers and you didn't like hanging about, waiting for her," pointed opt Julie patiently.

"I know, I know. Because Uncle Rhys said he had some business to attend to and wouldn't have time to look after me. But if William's gone, he won't be waiting at the hairdressers, will he?"

"Your Uncle Rhys is William's father, Dulcie," said Julie quietly.

"Don't you think they deserve some time alone together?"

Dulcie's knife sc.r.a.ped nerve-rackingly across her plate. "Why? Why?

I don't even have a daddy."

"William doesn't have a mummy," Julie reminded her steadily. "I'm sure William wouldn't mind you sharing his daddy, but you try to monopolise him."

"Mono-mop-what does that mean?"

Julie half smiled at her futile attempts to say the word. "Monopolise?

It means to-be selfish with, to keep for yourself. Without allowing anyone else to share."

"Uncle Rhys doesn't love William."

"You don't know that"

"I do, I. do!" Dulcie pushed out her chin. "He's always grumbling about him and saying that he should be in school."

"That doesn't mean he doesn't love him!"

Dulcie regarded her sourly. "Uncle Rhys doesn't say things like that to me."

"Because you're so much younger, Dulcie. You're still a little girl.

William is a teenager. Naturally, his father treats him differently, but that doesn't mean he thinks any the less of him. Of course he thinks that William should be in school Because he wants him to get a good education, maybe even go to university, have the chance of a good career. It's because he cares for him that he gets angry with him, don't you see?"

Dulcie absorbed this with evident reluctance. "Well, Muhraiy said Uncle Rhys had no time for William. She said he only got him out of the home because William's mummy might have tried to get money out of him later on."

Julie was horrified at the child's grasp of the situation. She must have been told this, or heard it, many times for her to recite it so accurately.

Poor William! Poor Dulcie!

"Well, perhaps Mummy made a mistake," she comforted the little girl now. "People do, you know, even mummies."

Dulcie hunched her small shoulders. "Why did my daddy have to get killed?" she muttered tearfully. "I want my daddy!"

Julie quickly removed the dinner plates and opened a serving dish to display a cream-covered trifle. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed, with deliberate emphasis. "Fruit and jelly and sponge and cream . . . and lots and lots of hundreds and thousands on the top!"

Dulcie looked up, the uncertain tears drying on her cheeks. "It's a trifle!" she said, her chin still wobbling, and Julie feigned surprise.

"Is it? Is that what it is?"

Dukie looked at her suspiciously. "You know it is."

"Do I?"

"You must have seen a trifle before."

Julie gave a mock frown. "Yes, I suppose I must. Oh, well, what do we do with it?"

Dulcie's mouth twitched, and Julie saw to her relief that she seemed to be getting over her tears. "We eat it," she a.s.serted, now, and Julie acknowledged this with a solemn nod.

"But I couldn't possibly eat all that," she exclaimed, and Dulcie's smile appeared.

"You don't," she said, entering into the spirit of the game. "You spoon it out into a dish."

"Show me," said Julie, indicating the serving spoon, and kneeling up on her chair, Dulcie complied.

It was obvious from the amount of trifle which ended up on the tablecloth that Dulcie had seldom, if ever, done this sort of thing before, but there was nothing more satisfying to a child than plunging about in a dish of jelly, and Julie hoped Mrs. Evans would forgive her for the mess.

By the time they had eaten their trifle, it was quite late, and although Julie had intended to go and see if she could find William before beginning the afternoon's typing session, she decided she could not spare the time right now. She was afraid that Rhys might arrive back from Llantreath and find his typescript only half finished, and then, no doubt, he would a.s.sume that she had been wasting more time talking to Gavin Meredith.

Thinking of the young glazier, she glanced towards the windows, but the pane of gla.s.s had already been replaced, and there was little evidence now that it had ever been broken.

Dulcie accompanied her to the library, and stood there on one leg as Julie opened the door to go into the room.

"Will you-I mean, are you-going for a walk?" she asked awkwardly.

"Later, you mean?" said Julie.

"WeU-yes."

"If it stays fine," Julie agreed doubtfully, wondering exactly what she was letting herself in for. If William had gone to Llantreath with his father and his aunt, what reaction would he have to Julie's making a friend of his cousin, particularly in his absence? And if he hadn't gone to Llantreath....

"What time shall I be ready?" asked Dulcie excitedly, and Julie thrust her doubts aside. It was not in her nature to be unkind to anyone, least of all a child.

"I should be finished by about half past three," she said, and Dulcie wait skipping away, obviously delighted at the unexpected treat.

As it happened, Julie was finished typing soon after three. The delay in starting that morning, Rhys's desire to alter a scene she had typed the previous day, plus the interruption caused by the glazier, had all contributed to a briefer output, and consequently she completed transcribing her notes in record time.

Leaving the library, she made her way to the kitchen, and found Mrs.

Evans seated comfortably in her armchair by the fire, drinking tea and talking to the young glazier who was perched familiarly on the edge of the table, a mug of tea steaming in his hand, too. They both looked surprised at Julie's intrusion, and Mrs. Evans got up out of her chair to say: "Is there something I can get you, miss?"

Julie, conscious of Gavin Meredith's blue eyes upon her, felt rather uncomfortable. Smiling apologetically, she said:' "Actually, Mrs.

Evans, I just wanted to ask you if you knew whether William went to Llantreath with his father."

Mrs. Evans shook her head. "Oh, no, miss. William hasn't gone out, not that I know of. I took him his lunch up at about half past twelve, and Mr. Edwards had already left then."

"I see." Inwardly Julie trembled. She had suspected this, of course, but she had hoped. ... "Well-thank you, Mrs. Evans."

"Will you stay and have a cup of tea now you're here, miss?"

suggested the housekeeper amicably. "It's no trouble."

"Oh, no. Thank you again." Julie shook her head, and was aware that Gavin's eyes had never left her face although she had deliberately avoided looking at him.

"Dulcie tells me you're taking her walking this afternoon," said Mrs.

Evans, as Julie walked towards the door.

"Yes." Julie half turned.

"Shelf enjoy that," went on the housekeeper, and Gavin slid off the table and placed his empty mug on the draining board.

"Who wouldn't?" he commented teasingly, and Mrs. Evans chuckled'

She, at least, seemed to have accepted Julie's presence in the house.

Julie escaped into the hall, her cheeks rather hot, and then, without waiting for the impulse to be blunted, she ran quickly up the stairs.

William's door was tightly closed, but taking a deep breath, she knocked at the panels and without waiting for a reply, opened it and went in.

William tinned from his labours at a table in the window recess where he was a.s.sembling a model aeroplane. He stared across at Julie with hostile eyes, and if she had harboured any doubts about his feelings towards her, they were clarified in that moment.

"You have no right to come in here uninvited," he declared, his thin body taut within the polo-necked sweater and jeans he was wearing.

Julie closed the door and leaned back against it. "Haven't I?" She paused. "Why didn't you come down to lunch, William?"

"I wasn't hungry."

"That's not true. Mrs. Evans told me she'd brought your lunch up here."

"Oh, I see. You've been checking up on me."

Julie expelled her breath impatiently. "Don't be silly, William. I wanted to know where you were. I thought you might have gone to Llantreath with your father."

"He told you he was going to ask me then? That figures. What was it-your idea or his?"