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From the window she could look down into the garden—the one thing her father hadn't neglected since his widowhood. It was ablaze with spring flowers and even as she stood there at the window their scent drifted up to her—wallflowers, heady and sweet, lilies-of-the-valley and the lemony fragrance of the laburnum under the window, its boughs bent under their weight of bright yellow blooms. She closed her eyes and breathed it in deeply, a wave of nostalgia washing over her. Suddenly and unaccountably her thoughts were with Sean. How on earth could see ever have imagined that he could be remotely interested in a girl like her? With the choice he had at St Anne's it was a miracle he had even noticed her. She sighed. He must have picked her for the job in Yorkshire for that very reason. She was hardly in demand—who would miss her?

Suddenly a door slammed somewhere downstairs, jerking her out of her reverie. A voice called, startling her.

'Coo-ee! Are you there? Can I come up?'

The voice was unfamiliar to her and she went out on to the landing and stood at the head of the stairs. At the bottom stood a woman. She was, Katy guessed, in her early thirties and very attractive with curling blonde hair and a girlishly slim figure. She was wearing a pretty summer dress in a soft blue material and she was holding a bunch of mixed flowers which she now held out to Katy.

'I've brought you some flowers. You must be Katy. I'm Isobel Johns from across the road at number five. I'm sure your father will have told you all about me.'

Katy shook her head. 'No, he didn't—' She frowned, remembering. 'Oh, he did say something about a new friend.'

The woman smiled. 'Isn't that just like David to be so vague? May I come up, dear? I'm getting a crick in my neck looking up at you like this.'

Katy began to come down 'I'm sorry. How rude of me. It's all right. I was just coming down anyway. What can I do for you, Mrs Johns? Did you want to borrow something?'

The woman looked slightly put out. 'Borrow something? No, indeed I don't! I've come to bring you some flowers—because I know David doesn't like his garden tampered with—to introduce myself and to tell you about the casserole. All it needs is thickening and the potatoes are in the saucepan ready to pop on.'

Katy blushed. 'Oh—so it was you. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't know.'

'Well, you wouldn't if your father hasn't told you about me. I expect he thought it would be better to wait till you came home.' She slipped an arm around Katy's shoulders as they walked together towards the kitchen. 'Now, shall we have a nice cup of tea? As your father's fiancée I think we should start getting to know one another as soon as possible, don't you?'

Katy stared at her, hardly able to believe her ears. 'His
what?'
she asked incredulously.

Isobel smiled serenely as she bustled about the kitchen, putting the flowers in water and filling the kettle. It was all too clear that she was perfectly at home there. 'I believe in being direct,' she said frankly. 'You have to know sometime and the sooner the better if you ask me. David has a terrible habit of putting things off. I told him you had a right to know from the beginning and when we finally made up our minds he promised me he'd write and let you know.' She shook her head. 'I guessed he'd leave it till he saw you.'

Katy sat down at the kitchen table, her knees suddenly weak. She felt as though all the breath had been knocked from her body. Dad—getting engaged—to this woman. It was true that she was attractive and obviously efficient as a housewife too—but she was years younger. There was something faintly indecent about it.

'Have you lived here long?' she asked, finding her voice at last. She seemed to remember that the last time she had been home number five had been occupied by the Livseys, an elderly couple.

Isobel gave a tinkling laugh as her flower arrangement received its final tweak. 'Heavens no! I moved in
just
after Christmas. My husband died in a car accident ten years ago. We'd only been married two years.' She sighed and sat down opposite Katy, looking at her with large soulful blue eyes. 'I thought then that my life was over and I clung to all the threads—the flat where we'd lived, all the familiar places and things. Then one day I took a look at myself and I realised that life was passing me by. There I was just sitting there and letting it go. Time to make a completely flew start, I told myself. So I packed up—sold everything, gave up my job and moved here to take the flat over the road with the Livseys. And what do you know?' Her blue eyes danced with happiness. 'Who should I meet on the very day I moved in but David! Well, it was love at first sight. 'It must have been fate that brought me here.'

Katy gazed at her rapturous expression and wondered sourly whether it was her father Isobel had fallen in love with or the beautiful home he owned. Suddenly something else struck her—if Dad were getting a new wife he wouldn't need her to look after him. Not only that but he wouldn't want her hanging around playing gooseberry either—and she had already given in her notice at St Anne's!

'I do wish Dad had told me about all this before,' she said glumly. 'I was coming home to look after him. I was going to tell him tonight. It was to have been a surprise. I thought he was lonely, you see.'

Isobel's tinkling laugh rang out again, grating on Katy's nerves like a steel rasp on glass. 'Lonely! Not any more!' She patted Katy's hand. 'Ah, but what a sweet, unselfish thought. I know David would never allow you to give up your nursing career on his account and you can't tell me that you don't have a full social life—plenty of boyfriends, eh?' She giggled coyly. 'I saw the gorgeous hunk of man who dropped you off outside—the one with the dashing sports car. Tell me, is he a doctor at your hospital?'

'Yes—a paediatrician,' Katy said. 'But he isn't—'

'In no time at all you'll be married yourself,' Isobel rushed on. 'And now you won't have to worry about what your poor old Daddy is doing, will you? It's the original fairy-tale ending, isn't it?'

Katy just sat there, letting the avalanche of words engulf her. She wanted to shout: 'Yes, but I've failed my finals and given in my notice! I've got nowhere to go and now you're taking my home and my father away from me too!' Instead she smiled helplessly as Isobel got to her feet and took a final look round.

'Well, I'm off. You and your father must have the first night of your visit to yourselves. It was my suggestion,' she added quickly. 'You'll have a lot to talk about.' She smiled archly. 'Maybe you've even got some exciting news for your father too,' she suggested with a wink. 'Enjoy your dinner. You'll find an apple pie and some cream in the fridge for pudding. See you tomorrow—cheeribye!'

Katy sat still at the table after she had gone, staring at the wall. She couldn't believe it. Dad— quiet Dad, and that woman with her constant chatter and her grating breeziness. He had always loved the contemplative life. What could he possibly see in her? She'd drive him mad in six months! The kitchen clock caught her eye and she got up to light the gas under the potatoes and check the casserole. It looked and smelt delicious. Well, that at least was something. She could certainly cook and the house looked like a new pin, just the way her mother had always kept it. Give Isobel her due, she obviously knew how to worm her way into a man's life.

She was dishing up when she heard her father's key in the lock and she slipped the two plates back into the oven and went into the hall to meet him. He was hanging up his raincoat on the hall stand and immediately she noticed that he looked ten years younger. His hair was neatly trimmed, his shirt was crisp and spotless and you could have sliced bread with the crease in his trousers.

'Dad!' She threw her arms around him. 'It's lovely to see you.'

He hugged her, then held her at arms' length. 'Now then, let me have a look at my girl. Mmm— too thin by half. What have you been doing to yourself? All that studying—burning the midnight oil, eh?'

She kissed him. 'Well anyway
you're
looking great, Dad. Never better! Come and eat. It's all ready. I'll have it on the table by the time you've washed your hands.'

She studied him as he sat down opposite her. There was a new light in his eyes and his skin seemed to have taken on a youthful glow.
Could
he have fallen in love again? Did it really happen to people of his age? Feeling her eyes on him he looked up with a smile.

'This is delicious. I see you haven't lost your touch in spite of all the junk food you young girls seem to live on.'

'I didn't cook this, Dad,' she told him gravely. 'It was Isobel. I've met her, by the way. She came over this afternoon, soon after I arrived. She—er—told me your news.'

He laid down his knife and fork, looking slightly uncomfortable. 'Ah—well, I thought she might do that.'

'Did you
hope
she would, Dad?' Katy asked. 'So that you wouldn't have to tell me yourself?' She shook her head. 'It really was too bad of you, you know. Why didn't you give me some idea of what was going on before. It was quite a shock.'

'You had your exams to think about,' he hedged, not looking at her. 'And I suppose, if I'm truthful, I was just a little afraid of what you might think.' He glanced up at her shyly. 'I expect you think your Dad has gone daft in his old age!'

She laughed affectionately, all her resentment melting at the look on his face. 'Old age! Don't be so ridiculous!' She reached across the table to squeeze his hand. 'As long as you're happy, Dad— that's all that matters to me.'

'I am, Katy,' he assured her. 'And I know that you and Isobel are going to be the greatest of friends. That's a very important part of it as far as I'm concerned.'

Katy forced herself to swallow some of her earlier misgivings, but she couldn't help feeling bleak as she thought of her own future. 'Dad—' she ventured. 'Dad, I've got some bad news, I'm afraid. I failed my finals.'

His eyes clouded as they looked into hers. 'Oh, Katy, what a pity. I'm so sorry, love. Still, you can take them again in a few months, can't you? You're sure to pass next time. I expect it was a case of nerves.'

She got up to clear the table. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she had given in her notice—that indeed she had decided to give up nursing and come home to stay. She glanced across to where he stood looking out at the garden.

'It's going to be a good year for the roses,' he observed. 'Isobel and I plan to marry in September. I hope you'll be able to come home for the wedding.'

'Oh—but of course I will—just try and stop me,' she said in an over-bright voice.

'I didn't think you'd find the time to come home after the exams,' he said as he lit his pipe. 'It'll be good to have you here for a whole weekend.'

Katy stared at his back. She was sure she had told him she was staying for two weeks when she had telephoned. If only he would listen.

'I said a fortnight,' she muttered.

He smiled as he put away his matches. 'Four nights, eh? That's even better.'

She opened her mouth to correct him, then closed it. Maybe it was better this way. There seemed little point in staying longer now. It seemed that neither Dad nor the house needed her attention any longer.

They washed up together as they had always done, then Dad announced that there was a gardening programme on TV that he wanted to watch and they settled down. It was halfway through when Katy heard the back door open and close, a moment later Isobel's head came round the living-room door.

'Just thought I'd see if everything was all right,' she mouthed at Katy.

'Fine, thanks.' With a glance at her father Katy got up and went into the hall, closing the door behind her. 'Dad drinks in every word of that TV gardener,' she explained. 'Better not interrupt.'

Isobel nodded and took her hand. 'Come upstairs with me a moment. I'd appreciate your advice.' On the landing she opened the door of Katy's room. 'I hope you won't mind, dear, but I plan to redecorate this room for David and I—for after we're married.'

'My room? But why?' Katy asked.

'Well—I wouldn't feel quite happy in the other one. I'm sure you understand. In future that can be yours when you come to stay.' She glanced at Katy. 'But I don't suppose that will be very often, will it—what with all your friends and your career? A couple of middle-aged fogies like David and I will bore you to death, I'm sure.' She walked round the room, her eyes half-closed. 'I thought a nice lilac,' she mused, 'with maybe a moss green carpet—and a new suite of course. Or perhaps some built-in fitments. Do you want to keep all those old dolls, dear? Or shall I arrange to get rid of them for you?'

'I'll keep them, thanks,' Katy said stiffly. 'Maybe you won't mind if I leave them in the box-room—or will that inconvenience you?' she added meaningly.

Isobel looked at her. 'No—as long as it isn't for too long.' She bit her lip. 'Just between ourselves I have hopes that we may be needing the box-room for a nursery. I always wanted a family and if we don't waste too much time it could still happen, couldn't it?'

Katy's stomach turned over. 'I—I think I'll go and make some coffee,' she muttered.

Afterwards she couldn't imagine how she got through the evening. In spite of what she'd said about them having their first evening alone together Isobel stayed on, chattering animatedly all through the television programmes. Just before she left she looked at Katy and said:

'Have you told your father yet about the boyfriend?'

David Lang took his pipe out of his mouth and looked up with interest. 'What's this? I haven't heard anything about a boyfriend.'

Before Katy had time to reply Isobel rushed on. 'A handsome doctor from the hospital with the raciest little car you ever saw! Caused quite a stir in the road, I can tell you. What did you say his name was, dear?'

'I didn't—but it's Sean MacInnon.' Katy was about to add that it was all a mistake and that he wasn't her boyfriend when she suddenly had an idea. Sean might make a useful excuse if things became too unbearable here.

'How long have you been going out together?' her father asked.

She shrugged. 'Oh—some time.'