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and then said, ‘Er…’

      Astra knew him. She loved him. And suddenly she was remembering a remark her cousin Fennia had made shortly before her marriage to Jegar Urquart. It was something to the effect that Fennia thought that Greville was over his marriage break-up and all the pain that had gone with it.

      ‘What gives, Greville Alford?’ Astra probed gently.

      ‘You always were smart,’ he answered—and Astra waited. ‘Well, since you’re no longer working all hours…’ He broke off—and only then, what with Yancie suggesting she worked all hours, and Greville openly saying so, did Astra realise just how glued to the grindstone she had truly been. ‘The truth is, Astra, love,’ he went on, ‘your big cousin needs your support.’

      ‘You’ve got it!’ Astra told him unconditionally. Greville had always been more of a big brother to her than a cousin. She loved him dearly; all three cousins did.

      ‘The thing is, Astra—um—I’m in something of an emotional turmoil.’

      His confession jolted her. ‘You?’ she questioned.

      ‘I know. Who’d have thought it?’

      ‘You’re—er—you’ve fallen for someone? I’m sorry,’ she apologised instantly. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’ And, the practical side of her waking up, she rose over her shock that it looked as if her confirmed, ‘never again’ half cousin had fallen for someone and was ‘all over the place’ emotionally about it. ‘How can I help?’ she asked, ready, willing, eager to help him if she could. ‘What do you want me to do?’

      ‘Nothing too terrible,’ he replied, and explained, ‘I’ve been invited to this party and I happen to know that the someone I’m particularly—um—interested in will be there. And, daft though it may seem for a man of my age, I’m scared stiff I’ll frighten her off if I act too eager.’

      ‘You want me to come with you in order to keep you in check?’ Astra queried, only just managing to hide her surprise—her cousin had got it badly!

      ‘More to see that I don’t make too much of a fool of myself,’ he admitted, and Astra wanted to give him a hug.

      He had asked for her support—she gave it unreservedly. ‘I’d love to come to a party with you,’ she answered cheerfully.

      ‘Wonderful!’ he cried, and sounded so like a young, enthusiastic boy that Astra had to smile. Her smile rapidly faded, though, when he went on, ‘We don’t want to get there too early—it’ll go on all hours anyway. I’ll pick you up at—say, eight-thirty—nineish, on Saturday.’

      ‘This Saturday?’ Astra queried, playing for time, her thoughts rapid. Yancie was relying on her to help keep the peace between a brace of warring mothers. Astra recalled her reply to Yancie: ‘Would I let you down?’. And truly she couldn’t let her down. But Greville had never let any of them down ever, and here was her chance to do something for him.

      ‘Is this Saturday a problem, Astra?’ Already Greville was starting to sound a touch disappointed.

      ‘Nothing we can’t solve between us,’ Astra answered brightly, going hurriedly on, ‘I’ve already arranged to have dinner on Saturday—with a friend. You said this party will go on all hours. Can you cope if I don’t actually come with you, but come on later?’

      Clearly this party on Saturday was important to her half cousin. ‘Say where you’ll be and I’ll come and pick you up,’ he at once volunteered, so eager, it seemed, to have her there to support him that there was no way he wanted to withdraw his invitation.

      But Astra knew in advance that if she told Yancie that Greville was calling for her, and so much as hinted at the emotional turmoil he was in, Yancie would want to do all she could to help Greville too, and would tell her to forget about dining with them. And knowing what a barbed tongue Aunt Ursula, Yancie’s mother, had when the mood was on her, Astra felt she must support Yancie too.

      ‘That would make it too complicated with cars,’ Astra smiled. ‘I’ll be driving myself to meet my friend,’ she added, and knew Greville had seen the sense of this when he told her the name of the party givers, and their address.

      ‘I’ll leave arriving as late as I can myself,’ Greville decided. ‘But if you can get there as soon as you can,’ he added, and rang off, and Astra started to realise just how seriously his emotions had been put in turmoil.

      He was nervous, and jittery, and all too plainly all at sixes and sevens over this new woman in his life. And that could only mean that he had no idea how the lady felt about him. Otherwise, why would he need his half cousin along to support him? Poor darling Greville; never had she known him be anything but supremely confident. But he shouldn’t worry. To know Greville was to love him.

      Saturday dragged around very slowly. She had thought a deal about Greville and also about Yancie and how she deserved her happiness. And then Astra thought of Sayre Baxendale—and found it extremely annoying that he should pop into her thoughts so constantly. The reason for that, though, was plain enough. It was because of him, and his interference, that she’d had to give up her job.

      To be painfully honest, she admitted, the fault was hers. And, having inherited her father’s integrity, Astra felt relieved on the one hand that her oversight had come to light and that things had been put right for Mr Cummings. But that still didn’t make her feel any the warmer towards Baxendale. Had Mr Cummings or his daughter contacted her, and requested her to check the investment deal, then Astra knew she would have checked her work just as thoroughly—and would have just the same brought her mistake to Norman Davis’s attention. So there had been no need for Baxendale to poke his nose in. And anyway, she’d have thought he had better things to do. She was doubly glad she’d never have to see him again.

      Dinner at Yancie and Thomson’s home went much better than Astra had expected. The two mothers had little to say to each other, which perhaps was just as well because Astra had been brought up knowing the cutting edge of her aunt Ursula’s tongue, and Thomson’s mother didn’t look as if she would take any prisoners. But it warmed Astra’s heart to see the way Thomson’s eyes followed Yancie when she crossed the room, the way his mouth curved when he heard her laugh. Purely and simply, he delighted in her.

      At around ten-thirty Mrs Wakefield senior made noises about going to bed, and Astra said she must be off. ‘Can’t we persuade you to stay a little while longer?’ Thomson enquired charmingly.

      But he accepted pleasantly when she said she’d had a lovely evening, but really felt she must go. She made her goodbyes, and both Thomson and Yancie came out to her car with her.

      ‘You’re all right, Astra? You’re not fretting about…’

      ‘Of course I’m all right,’ Astra laughed, and added, immediately on her cousin’s wavelength, ‘I’m having a wonderful rest while I decide what I’d like to do.’

      ‘I’m sure you won’t need my help,’ Thomson inserted, ‘but you’d be an asset to my company if you’re interested in career advancement with Addison Kirk,’ its chairman offered.

      Yancie beamed, and Astra felt touched and, her cool and aloof image having no place in family, she kissed them both. She drove off, catching sight of them in her rear-view mirror, arms around each other, strolling back to the house. She drove to the party in the most contented frame of mind she had been in all week. It was not to last.

      Astra found the house she was looking for without any trouble, and parked the Porsche in about the only place available. The house was large, the cars in the drive many. It was, she guessed, a big party. And well under way.

      She rang the doorbell. A good-looking man opened the door. He was not her host, however, but someone merely passing when the bell had sounded.

      He seemed much cheered to see her. ‘I was thinking of going home, but things are looking up,’ he leered. Spare me! Astra gave him a look that should have told him ‘Don’t let me stop you’ but he was not to

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