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word, ‘Tell me, where is your sister—correction, your half-sister—now?’

      ‘I’ve told you. Abroad. She’s a photographer. She’s working all over on this trip.’

      ‘She frequently travels overseas?’

      ‘No,’ Leyne admitted. ‘This is her biggest opportunity. When she was asked to assist Ben Turnbull, Max—’

      ‘She’s with Ben Turnbull? She must be good,’ Jack Dangerfield cut in, clearly having heard of him.

      ‘She is. She said she wouldn’t go at first. But neither Pip nor I would hear of that.’

      ‘So she went—and left you to rear her child.’

      ‘It’s not like that!’ Leyne flew, not liking the way he was making it sound as though Max was running out on her responsibilities. ‘I’ve lived with and helped look after Pip since she was born. She’s almost as much a part of me as she is my sister. It just isn’t any problem taking care of her.’

      ‘It sounds to me as though you do have a problem.’

      Leyne bit her lip. ‘We just hadn’t anticipated that Pip would want to know—’

      ‘If I’m reading this correctly,’ Jack Dangerfield cut in, ‘the child—Pip—is not going to be satisfied in meekly accepting any male name you pull out of the hat.’

      ‘It’s you!’ Leyne erupted. ‘It’s your name, not just any man—’

      ‘It seems to me,’ he again cut in, ignoring her anger and sounding tough again, ‘that you’d better contact your sister and get her to come clean about what she’s been up to. It—’

      ‘What kind of man are you?’ Leyne exploded. ‘If you had any decency at all, you’d—’

      ‘It’s because I do have a sense of decency that I’m bothering to speak to you now while my other calls are backing up,’ he chopped her off curtly. ‘As it is, I think I’ve given this—matter—far more time than could decently be expected of me. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll—’

      ‘Don’t you dare put that phone down on me!’ Leyne blazed, knowing he was about to do just that. ‘I don’t know what went wrong between you and Max that makes you so determined to deny paternity, and I don’t want to know, but—’

      ‘I’m a busy man, Miss Rowberry.’ He unapologetically interrupted her furious flow. ‘I’ll call and see you in my free time.’

      ‘No, you won’t!’ she erupted, panic-stricken for the moment.

      ‘I’ll phone you first,’ he informed her, and, whether she liked it or whether she didn’t—and she didn’t—he terminated the call.

      For several minutes afterwards no name was too bad for him. But as her fury subsided she wondered if he meant what he’d said and would call and see her. Fear that he might come face-to-face with Pip began to surge upward, but then Leyne comprehended that by saying he would phone first Jack Dangerfield meant that he would take jolly good care that Pip was not around when he called.

      Admitting to feeling very frustrated by the whole business, Leyne began to ponder what she had hoped to get from her phone call to him anyway. She was not yet ready for him and Pip to meet, so supposed that, while wanting him to admit to being Pip’s father, she had also wanted to let off steam that neither he—nor his PA—had been in touch.

      Keith Collins stepping into her office and asking her out momentarily took thoughts of Jack Dangerfield from her mind. Keith was at his charming best, reminding Leyne of why she liked him. ‘I thought you’d had enough,’ she answered with a grin.

      ‘I haven’t begun to have nearly enough yet,’ he replied, adopting a lecherous look.

      Leyne had to laugh. ‘As it happens, I’m fairly sure I can be free tomorrow night,’ she accepted, and later phoned Dianne to ask if she could drop Pip off on her way out.

      Dianne was only too willing, and Leyne began to look forward to an evening out with Keith. As it would be a Friday, with no school the next day, it would not matter if Pip was late going to bed.

      As usual Leyne checked for telephone messages as soon as they arrived home, but telephone messages there were none. Nor did Jack Dangerfield phone that evening. And by morning, as she did the school run with Pip and Alice, Leyne was starting to get cross that she had obviously been fobbed off yet again.

      The light of battle entered her eyes when there was no message left on the phone when she arrived home that evening. But she had neither Jack Dangerfield’s home phone number nor his home address, and there was nothing she could do about it until Monday.

      Keith Collins did not appear entirely ecstatic when he learned that his evening with Leyne was going to end well before midnight. But, like the normally nice person she thought he was, he appeared to have accepted that if he wanted to date her, it had to be on her terms.

      All of which made her warm to him as they dropped her niece off at Dianne’s house and drove on to the eating establishment he had chosen.

      Leyne enjoyed her meal, and enjoyed his company. She enjoyed too, because they would soon be picking up Pip, his kiss in the restaurant car park.

      ‘Are you sure you haven’t time to come back to my place for coffee?’ he asked warmly.

      Time to back away. ‘I’m sure,’ she replied pleasantly, and moved towards his car.

      She was up early the next morning. Pip always got her swimming gear together herself, but Leyne always liked to check she had everything. Having just driven her car out of the garage, she had just closed the garage doors when Pip came out and said that Alice’s mother was on the phone. Returning to the house, Leyne went to have a word with Dianne.

      ‘Would you mind if I took the girls this morning?’ Dianne asked. And in a quieter tone—so little ears must have been about, ‘Alice is keen to show me how many lengths of the pool she can swim, and I get the impression that I’ll be the most heartless mother in the world if I don’t go along.’

      Leyne said she did not mind one little bit, and, with the whole morning free once she had waved Pip goodbye, Leyne got out the vacuum cleaner and set about a chore she did not care very much for but, since she could not live in an unkempt house, was a necessary one.

      She had just switched the machine off, however, when the telephone rang. Max? Leyne made a dive for it. ‘Jack Dangerfield,’ said a voice she was beginning to recognise, and for a moment she did not know if she was glad or sorry it was him.

      ‘Good of you to ring,’ she said, none too prettily.

      ‘I said I would,’ he replied urbanely. ‘I can be with you shortly if it’s convenient?’

      About to abruptly tell him he was lucky to find her in, she halted. She was the instigator here. And by ‘convenient’ he meant if Pip was not around. ‘As it happens Pip will be out until around twelve-thirty,’ Leyne informed him, and did not have to say more apparently, because the line went dead.

      And that niggled her. How soon was shortly, for goodness’ sake? He knew where they lived from her letter, obviously, but not a word of enquiry as to how to find her address.

      A second or two later she was realising that, as opposed to her car, which was creakily on its last legs, he probably had an up-to-the-minute car that included satellite navigation amongst its many refinements. All he had to do was to key in the postcode she had written and he would be on his way. Though a few seconds after that and she was calling herself all sorts of an idiot. Of course he knew the address. He had driven a car to this address some twelve years or so before—to call for Max!

      Jack Dangerfield certainly hadn’t had any difficulty finding their home anyway, as was proved when, not much more than five minutes later, barely giving her time to do more than put the vacuum cleaner away, Leyne saw a smart black car pull up on the drive and

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