'No, of course not. But maybe there are things your mother regrets not having done.'

Chapter Forty.

It was almost two in the morning, and with her bedroom door shut, Harriet was once again decoding her sister's emails. It was the first opportunity she'd had to look at them since getting back from Dublin and she'd decided, in order to tackle the job in a more methodical manner, to go right back to the very first email Felicity had exchanged with her lover. It had taken the best part of two hours to read six messages - three written by Felicity and three sent by her lover - and so far she hadn't come up with a single clue as to the man's ident.i.ty. Had they set out to be deliberately careful? Or had it been part of some elaborate game that added a further frisson of excitement to what they were doing? What she'd read tonight was mostly about a night spent together in a hotel; how much it had meant to them and how long before they could be together again.

There were numerous references to Felicity's state of mind, mostly how unhappy she had become in her marriage. Trapped was a word that appeared again and again, not with regard to the children, as Harriet might have supposed, but by the lack of choice she had in her life.

'I see my life as nothing more than an existence,' Felicity had written. 'If it wasn't for the children - and you - I would question why I bother at all.'

Harriet was shocked. She had never heard her sister speak in this manner. It was as if she was reading a stranger's letters.

'I have tried so very hard to be more like the girl Jeff married,' Felicity had also written, 'but I can't do it. I'm not the person I was then. Some days I feel such contempt for him, that he doesn't see how unhappy I am or how unfaithful. He just doesn't seem to notice me any more.'

The depth of her sister's unhappiness was more disturbing to Harriet than the original discovery of the affair.

But was the affair with Miles? That was the question. Frustratingly, the emails had yielded nothing of any use and she was no nearer the truth. Nor had there been a chance to see Miles recently so that she could subtly drop hints into the conversation and watch his reaction. If she was honest, in the light of Dominic's a.s.sumption she felt uncomfortable imagining herself in his company. She had always been so fond of him, but now she couldn't view him in the same way. As well as being embarra.s.sed that she had misinterpreted his friendliness towards her for something deeper, she also felt angry with him, having come to the conclusion that he might have been using her. Was being with her his way of still being close to Felicity? If so, it was sick and she was having none of it.

But all this was pure conjecture. There was always the chance that Dominic was wrong. That he'd leapt to a wildly off-beam conclusion. In which case, it was important to keep an open mind. And her distance. Miles had phoned her this afternoon and invited her out to dinner. 'I've got this insatiable desire for some poppadoms and a deadly-strength vindaloo,' he'd said. 'Do you fancy joining me?'

She'd used the children and her parents to put him off, giving some feeble reason why she had to be at home, then she tried to deflect him by saying she had an appointment to view a house tomorrow. 'I'm quite excited about this one,' she told him, 'it really seems promising.'

Except it had backfired and he'd said, 'Why don't I come with you? Another pair of eyes to check out the place might be useful.' It would have been churlish to say no, so she had agreed to meet him at the property in the morning.

Still staring at the laptop screen, she yawned and rubbed her eyes. Another twenty minutes and she'd call it a day. If she didn't get to bed soon, she wouldn't make that appointment later this morning. Just as well it was Sunday.

She pulled up another email but tiredness was turning her brain to mush and her thoughts slipped away from her once more.

When Carrie had learned that Harriet had seen Dominic in Dublin she'd wanted to know when he was coming to see them again. 'He didn't mention anything,' Harriet told her gently, 'and I know he's very busy at the moment.' It had seemed too cruel to tell Carrie the truth - that it was unlikely Dominic would show his face in Maple Drive for at least another twelve months.

'Do you think he'll come home for Christmas?' Carrie had persisted. 'He'd probably want to be with his parents and his brother, wouldn't he?'

'I expect you're right,' Harriet said. Again it would have been unkind to point out that it was years since Dominic had spent the festive holiday in Maple Drive. He once told her that Cambridge was at its bleakest during Christmas - bitterly cold and devoid of twittering students - and that nowhere else could offer him such brutal solitude.

At the same time as fielding Carrie's questions about Dominic, Harriet had done some probing of her own, trying to ascertain how things were going at school. She had posted the bullying letter through the letter box at school on Tuesday, on her way to work, well before the children had set off for school with their grandfather. She'd put it in an envelope marked Private and written a brief accompanying note. Later that afternoon she'd received a phone call from the headmistress saying that it hadn't been difficult to work out who had been behind the letters and that the group of girls involved had been spoken to, as well as their parents. That the matter had been dealt with so readily should have pleased Harriet, but she hadn't shared the headmistress's confidence that it was now behind them. 'Isn't there the small but vitally important business of building bridges to get on with?' she'd asked. 'Carrie has been made to feel like a social outcast. How are you going to rectify that situation?'

'It'll take some time, but let me a.s.sure you Miss Swift, we'll get there, together.' Harriet had just picked up on the emphasis of the word together when Mrs Thompson said, 'It might help if you got more involved with school, mixed with the other parents and got to know them. Have you thought of joining the PTA? I know they're always crying out for extra helping hands. Never more so than right now, what with the Christmas fayre and the nativity play coming up next month.'

Harriet didn't think there was a PTA in the world that was ready for her particular brand of helping hands and said, 'I'm sorry but I don't have the time.'

'Well, maybe you could take advantage of the parents' evening next week and meet some of the other parents. The PTA will be there providing coffee and biscuits for everyone.'

From what Harriet had so far seen of the parents, she thought she'd rather cover herself in raw chicken livers and get to know a tank of piranhas.

Once again she was left with the uneasy feeling that the onus was back on her. Was that what being a parent was about? Always feeling that it was down to you to solve everything?

She had raised the topic of school several times with Carrie in the hope that her niece might toss her plaits and say, 'I had such a great day at school today. Everyone was so friendly towards me.' But all she shoe-horned out of Carrie was that she was bored at school. This didn't come as a surprise to Harriet. Despite not fully understanding what key stages Carrie was supposed to be achieving, Harriet knew her niece was quite bright. Will had said much the same the other night when they'd had their firework party. After a few gla.s.ses of wine, while the children were tucking into hotdogs and getting themselves covered in ketchup, Harriet had found herself confiding in him about the bullying letter. He'd suggesting having an all-out heart-to-heart with Carrie: 'Give her the opportunity to get it off her chest,' he'd advised.

'But I wanted to give her the sense of having coped with it by herself. I thought it would be more empowering.'

He'd frowned and said, 'Is that because that's how you always do things? Single-handedly taking on the world? It can be a tough and lonely business being such a courageous pioneer.'

It was an odd comment to make, but what he'd come up with later, when he was leaving, surprised her even more. 'I have a spare ticket for the Jools Holland concert at the Apollo in Manchester next week; I don't suppose you'd like to go, would you?'

Dora had been hovering at the door with them as Will had offered to walk her home, and she gave Harriet an embarra.s.sing wink, at the same time giving Will a nudge with her elbow and saying, 'If Harriet doesn't want to go, I'm sure I could make myself available.'

Will had laughed in that easy way of his and said, 'I wouldn't want to come between you and Derek.' During the course of the evening, Dora had talked at length about Derek, her wine-importing boyfriend, making them all laugh with her plans to snare this one before he got away. Somehow Will had left without Harriet giving him an answer to his question. She hadn't seen him since and because he hadn't gone to the trouble to ask her again, she was left to think that he'd thought better of his invitation.

She rubbed her face hard and focused her thoughts on the coded email in front of her. It was a particularly long one; perhaps it would be better to leave it until another night. But steeling herself, she began the painstaking process of deciphering Felicity's lover's words. It was Miles whom she now pictured as the writer. And as before, his language veered through a stellar gamut of emotions, from euphoria that Felicity should want to be with him, to desperate and heart-wrenching despair that she might regret what they had got themselves into. Harriet had to wonder what it was about Felicity that could have brought a man to his knees like this. She couldn't imagine anyone feeling the same for her.

Scrolling down, she came to a paragraph that had her senses on full alert. She slowly pieced together the coded words, pressing a finger to her lower lip as she often did when concentrating. When she'd finished, she stared at the screen, then grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. She jotted down the words and read them through one more time.

Do you remember that sweltering hot day when the four of us were lying in the cornfield and you were threatening to take off all your clothes and jump into the ca.n.a.l? That was the moment when I knew I loved you. You seemed braver and more vibrant than anyone else alive. It's how I've always thought of you.

It was difficult for Harriet to believe that she had finally found the proof she needed. But there it was; the evidence proved that it really had been Miles with whom Felicity had been having an affair. What's more, she could clearly remember the day in question. She could also remember telling her sister not to be so stupid. How boring she must have seemed in comparison to Felicity. In her heart, she'd known that Dominic had been right. He'd said he knew his brother and he clearly did. Better than Harriet did.

The next thing she did was to hit the delete b.u.t.ton and wipe the disk clean. She had achieved her objective. There was no need now to keep a single word of what had pa.s.sed between Felicity and Miles. As she sat back in her chair and pondered what she'd discovered, her cheeks suddenly burned fiercely at the thought of Miles and Felicity in bed together.

Ever since Dublin, she had tried to suppress this train of thought, but now that she knew the truth, she couldn't. She was surprised how much it hurt. She had only fantasised about Miles for a blink of an eye, but once more it was as if Felicity had spoilt things for her - first Dominic, now Miles. Oh, she'd never truly believed that Dominic would love her when they were teenagers, but if Felicity hadn't been there, well, who knows, he might actually have paid her more attention, perhaps treated her as an equal and not as the younger sister permanently cast in the shadow of the prettier and more interesting older one. And now it had happened all over again with Miles. He had been heart, body and soul in love with Felicity, therefore Harriet could only ever be second best in his eyes. She wouldn't have believed it possible, but she suddenly hated her sister. And Miles.

Her thoughts turned to the coming day, when she would be seeing Miles. She decided it would be better to take the children with her. She had thought she would view the house without them, that maybe it was unsettling for them to see too many potential homes, but now she thought they would make a convenient shield to hide behind. If she spent any time alone with Miles it was almost inevitable that she would end up telling him she knew about him and Felicity. In her current frame of mind, she didn't think this would be a good idea. She needed time to think about what she now knew. Would it, for instance, be better for the children's sake if their mother's secret remained exactly that, a secret? Given the measures Miles and Felicity had taken to hide their affair, it was probable that Miles had never confided in anyone, which in turn meant the only other person who knew about it was Harriet. So long as she remained quiet no one else would ever find out.

But with a jolt, she suddenly remembered Dominic and sat up straight. Dominic was the last person on earth whom she should have told. Even if he was merely armed with the suspicion that his brother had been having an affair with Felicity, he'd be capable of almost anything. With a sickening sense of misjudgement, she covered her face with her hands. What had she done?

She went to bed and pa.s.sed a night of chaotic and violent dreams. Of Miles making love to Felicity while Dominic looked on furiously. Of Dominic fighting Miles, like he had that time outside the club in Manchester. Of Jeff threatening to kill himself if Felicity ever left him.

She woke in the morning exhausted and taut with anxiety. Should she talk to Miles after all and warn him about Dominic? No, she decided. She had meddled enough.

Harriet and the children arrived at number one Lock Cottage ten minutes earlier than the appointed time. Harriet had wanted to look at the outside of the property unhindered by Miles's presence or the estate agent's representative.

The end-of-terrace cottage was empty, the owners having already moved out due to a company relocation, and after parking the car on the small gravelled area at the front, she took the children round to the back, which was the aspect of the house she knew they would appreciate most. Her parents had both declared her mad even to think about it, reminding her, as if she hadn't already given it her consideration, that children and water made a dangerous mix. But the thought of living in such a picturesque setting was irresistible to Harriet. Both children let out shrieks of delight when they saw that beyond the small, south-facing back garden, just the other side of the boundary wall, was the towpath and the ca.n.a.l.

Carrie was tall enough to see over the wall, and after hoisting Joel up so that he was sitting on top of it, his legs dangling over the side, the three of them took in the view. It was a glorious autumnal morning, a day so still it was as if time had been stopped in its tracks. After the last few days of frosts and freezing temperatures, the weather was unexpectedly mild. The sky was the palest of blues, and the shadows were long and ethereal. Unlike the stretch of ca.n.a.l at the back of Maple Drive, which was densely lined either side with trees and banks of hedgerows, the aspect here was open and exposed. Freshly ploughed fields, their rippled surfaces illuminated by the golden sunlight, undulated gently into the distance. Away to the right there were crows gathered in the tallest branches of a lone beech tree, their noisy cawing the only sound to be heard. Bob and Eileen would probably think the view was too bleak, but Harriet thought it was beautiful. She turned round to look at the cottage and thought of the views the bedrooms at the back would offer. A flicker of movement at the window in the next-door property had her hoping the natives were friendly. Because without even taking a step inside the cottage, she knew this was where she wanted to be.

'What do you think?' she asked the children. It was important to her that they shared at least half her enthusiasm.

'Could we have a boat if we lived here?' asked Joel.

She lifted him down from the wall. 'Maybe a very small rowing boat. The cottage does have its own mooring rights.'

'We'd be like Ratty in Wind in the Willows,' joined in Carrie. 'We could go for picnics in the boat. And Miles could come with us, couldn't he?'

'He could indeed,' Harriet said guardedly. She'd been aware lately how frequently Carrie brought Miles into the conversation. Hearing the sound of a car, she said, 'Come on, that'll either be Miles or the person who's going to show us round.'

It turned out to be both arriving in convoy. Miles greeted Harriet with a kiss on the cheek and the man, about the same age as her father, brandished a set of keys and house details, saying, 'This is my first day on the job, so if I can't answer any of your questions, I do apologise. Now then, let's see if we can get the front door open. I was warned it could be a bit tricky. Ah, that's got it,' he said, after applying his shoulder to the solid wood door. He stood back to let them all go inside. 'Of course, it's always better to view a house when it's lived in,' he said, 'so you'll have to fill in the blanks for yourselves.' Harriet was grateful for his running commentary; it meant she didn't have to speak to Miles.

Despite the echoing emptiness of the rooms and the dirty smudge marks on the walls where pictures had once hung, Harriet wasn't disappointed with what she saw. Leading off from a small hallway there was a downstairs cloakroom and a good sized sitting room with a view of the tiny front garden, but it was the large kitchen and breakfast room at the back that gave her a shiver of excitement. The cooking area was clean and modern with light beech units and granite surfaces, just as she would have chosen for herself. The sun streamed in through the French doors that opened onto the rear garden. Harriet looked at the children to gauge their reaction. After all, as inconceivable as it had seemed six months ago, this could be their home for a very long time. This was where Harriet would have to guide them through the nightmare of p.u.b.erty and adolescence and all the ensuing dramas their combined lives would bring. Living here, she might just pull off the required miracle.

Carrie wanted to choose her bedroom, and with Joel chasing after her, she clattered up the uncarpeted stairs and crashed into the first room she came to. It was smaller than the room she had at Grandma and Granddad's, but much prettier. There was a lovely little fireplace opposite the window; it was so small it looked like something out of a dolls' house. She went and stood in front of the window. If she had a chair and desk right here, she'd be able to watch the boats going past. She couldn't think of anything nicer.

Except for having Mum and Dad back with them.

It was on a day like this, when something good was happening to her, that she really missed them. She used to love coming home from school to tell Mum about all the interesting things she'd done that day. They'd sit together and Mum would listen to everything she said and then hug and kiss her and tell her how clever and special she was.

But now Carrie kept everything to herself. It was better that way. Grandma was too tired to listen, Granddad was never around and Harriet was too busy. Although she had noticed that Harriet had asked her more questions about school this week than she normally did. She'd told Harriet that she was bored most of the time during lessons, which she was. She hadn't said anything about the letters, or how the girls had stopped writing them now. One of the girls, Emily - the one who'd seen her coming out of the charity shop during half term - had even tried to be friendly to her in the playground the other day. At first she had been wary, expecting Emily to suddenly start laughing at her, but when she didn't say something horrible or tease her, Carrie had thought that maybe she was quite nice after all.

'Carrie! Come and see what I've found.' She turned at the sound of Joel's shrill voice and hurried into the room next door. It was bigger than the one she'd claimed for herself, but didn't have a view as nice as hers. There was no sign of her brother and she was just thinking that maybe he was in another bedroom when behind her a door flew open and Joel leapt out.

'It's a secret hiding place,' he said when he'd stopped laughing. Carrie knew that it was nothing more than a cupboard at a strangely low height, but she kept quiet; if Joel wanted this room, she'd be able to have the one with the brilliant view. 'Do you think Harriet will let me have this room?' he said.

'Let's go and ask her.'

They found her across the narrow landing in a bedroom that was much bigger than either of theirs and had the same view as the room Carrie had picked out for herself. Her aunt was talking to the man who'd come with the keys while Miles was kneeling on the wooden floor in front of a fireplace and looking up the chimney.

Joel nudged Carrie. 'Is he looking for Father Christmas?'

Miles laughed and got to his feet. 'I was trying to see if the chimney was blocked.'

'And is it?' asked Harriet, coming over to them.

'Not as far as I can see.'

'Excellent! A log fire in my bedroom; how fantastically decadent.'

Carrie noticed the happy smile on Harriet's face and thought that she should smile more often; it made her look pretty. More like Mum.

When they were saying goodbye to the man with the keys and Miles suggested they go out for lunch together, Carrie p.r.i.c.ked up her ears. Would they be going to that Italian restaurant again? But she was disappointed when Harriet said, 'I'm sorry, Miles, but we can't. Mum's doing one of her all-singing and all-dancing Sunday roasts.'

Carrie didn't know what her aunt meant by all-singing and all-dancing, but having enjoyed herself so much looking at this lovely house, she didn't want the day to turn boring. She also hadn't forgotten her plan to try and get Harriet to spend more time with Miles. With him around, Harriet didn't seem so serious or so snappy. And hadn't she just smiled?

But Miles wasn't the only person who could make her aunt smile. Carrie had definitely seen Harriet smiling and laughing with Will the other night during the fireworks. Did that mean she liked Will as much as Miles? It was all very confusing. Were you allowed to like more than one man at a time? She didn't know the answer to that, but she decided it would be nice if Miles came home with them. 'Couldn't Miles come back with us for lunch, Harriet?' she said. 'Grandma wouldn't mind, would she?' She smiled at her aunt, willing her to say yes.

Chapter Forty-One.

Harriet didn't know what had got into Carrie. For a start she'd taken it upon herself to invite Miles for lunch - much to Harriet's annoyance, he'd readily accepted - and now she was crashing around the dining room like a whirling dervish, telling them all where to sit in accordance with the place cards she'd decorated with pink and silver glitter. Perhaps it was the excitement of finding a house they all liked. She was now flinging her hands in the air in response to Joel climbing onto a chair next to Harriet. 'No,' she cried, 'that's where Miles has to sit. See, Joel, the card says M.LL.E.S.' She spelled out the name pedantically. 'You have to sit on my side of the table.'

'Do get a move on, Carrie,' Harriet's father said impatiently. 'The food will get cold if we hang about any more.'

'Ssh ... Bob, don't hurry her,' Eileen soothed. 'She's gone to a lot of trouble.'

'I don't care how much trouble she's gone to,' he muttered peevishly, 'I refuse to eat a cold roast. And Joel, do we have to have that mangy old scarf at the table?'

They eventually sat down in their allotted seats. Bob carved, with Eileen doing her usual act of supervising which bits of the joint to give everyone - something Harriet knew annoyed her father - and she offered to pour the wine for the adults and some grape juice for the children. She carried out this simple task applying all her concentration to it so that she wouldn't have to talk to Miles. Or think about him. Because whenever she did, her brain automatically a.s.sembled a slideshow of graphic images of him and Felicity in bed together - of Felicity straddling Miles, of Miles sucking and biting her, of Felicity throwing her head back in a moment of ecstatic abandonment. It pained Harriet to admit it, but she envied her sister, for she had never felt that depth of pa.s.sion for a man she'd ever been to bed with.

When everything was served and a hush had fallen on the table, Eileen said, 'Now then, tell us properly about the house, Harriet.' Her mother's voice was just a little too bright and jolly, as though she was making too great an effort for the sake of their guest.

'It was brilliant,' Carrie rushed to explain before Harriet could open her mouth. 'Completely mega brill. And the bedroom Harriet says can be mine is just so cool.'

'Carrie, please don't interrupt or speak with your mouth full. And whatever has happened to your vocabulary? When did everything become brill and cool?'

Another time and Harriet might have made the same reprimand as her father, but not today, not when she was only too grateful to have Carrie fully on-side. Angry that her father was in such a foul mood and had pulled up Carrie so needlessly in front of Miles, she said, 'Carrie couldn't have described the house better.' She shot her niece a quick smile and received a potato-chomping grin in return. She then turned to Miles to further diffuse the situation. 'You thought it was great too, didn't you?'

'It certainly has a great location,' he agreed. 'Stunning, in fact.'

'But it's the location that concerns me,' said Eileen. 'How safe would it be?' She inclined her head towards the children and lowered her voice. 'It's so close to the water.'

Amused that her mother thought Carrie and Joel hadn't already figured out the danger for themselves, she said, 'We could live on a busy main road and it would be just as dangerous.'

Spearing a baby carrot with his fork and waving it around in the air, Joel said, 'Harriet says we can have a boat to play in.'

Eileen looked alarmed. To allay her mother's fears, Harriet said, 'I didn't say anything about playing in it, Joel. Boats have to be taken very seriously.' Privately she thought Joel's interpretation was spot on. She could already see herself mucking about on the ca.n.a.l when she came home from work on a warm summer's evening.

'So are you going to make an offer for it?' This was from her father.

'She already has,' chipped in Carrie. 'On her mobile in the car.'

'I hope you weren't driving at the same time.'

Harriet frowned. Just what the h.e.l.l was eating her father? 'No, Dad, it was a hands-free call as always.' More to her mother than her father, she said, 'I wanted to get in quick. A property like that will get snapped up in no time: Rather than risk losing it to a higher offer, I've offered the full asking price; the agent sees no reason why the owners won't accept it. I'm going back to see it tomorrow evening after work. Do you want to come? Dad, what about you? Do you want to take a look at it?'

'Sounds to me like you've made up your mind without our approval.'

'It's not a matter of seeking your approval. I thought you'd be interested.' Her tone was sharp and it had her mother looking anxiously at her. If it weren't for Miles and the children, Harriet would have gladly pushed the matter. Her father's manner was putting a real dampener on things. Why was he behaving like a grumpy old man? Keeping quiet, she took a gulp of wine and got on with her meal. It was then that Carrie suggested they go for a walk with Toby after lunch.

'You'd like to come too, wouldn't you Miles?' she asked him across the table.

Harriet insisted that Eileen went upstairs to rest when they'd cleared the dining room and stacked the dishwater. She then told the children to get their boots and coats on, but for some reason, Carrie seemed incapable of carrying out this simple instruction without Miles's a.s.sistance. Watching him being dragged off to the utility room to help find her coat, she wondered if her niece had developed some sort of crush on him. Maybe it ran in the family. Turning to her father, she said, 'Are you going to join us for some fresh air, Dad?'

'I'll get plenty of that in the garden,' he answered tersely.

He's worse than a sulky teenager, she thought. Why couldn't he snap out of his rotten mood and give them all a break? Just how many children had she taken on?

'You don't have to do everything bossy boots Carrie asks of you,' she said to Miles when they were crossing the road and heading for the footpath to take them on their familiar route to the ca.n.a.l. 'If you'd had something else in mind to do this afternoon, you only had to say.'

'That's okay; I'm used to being bossed about by the Swift women.'

She laughed uneasily and was about to ask if there was one particular Swift woman who stood out from the crowd, when he said, 'All I was going to do this afternoon was depress myself by trying to write.'