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He lounged back on the couch, his eyes exploring her bright, animated face. 'I wouldn't know about that,' he said. 'I was thinking along the lines of an unusual name for—a rather unusual woman. I don't know how your family— and friends—could bear to part with you.'

This was better—a lot better. 'They couldn't,' she claimed. 'Some of them are still in counselling!'

He smiled, before saying, 'All the same, there can't be anyone up there who, well, who matters very much...or you wouldn't have come.'

Better still. He wants to know if I've got a man in my life, thought Yona, but she reckoned it wouldn't do him any harm to go on wondering a while longer. 'I wouldn't quite go along with that, but my career—'

'Means more to you than any man,' he finished for her, sounding disapproving again.

'You're oversimplifying,' she said, before asking bluntly, 'Do you come from a medical family, Mike?'

He was puzzled. 'No—why?'

'Then you don't know how it feels to live in the shadow of a very successful father—and know everybody's watching and wondering whether you can make it on your own, or whether any advancement is all down to family influence. I simply had to get right away to prove myself,' she said earnestly. 'Can you not see that?'

'Because your career is so important to you.'

Why did he constantly harp on that as though it were a sin? 'Of course my career's important to me, but it's just as important for me to know I got this job because I was the best candidate—and not because I'm my father's daughter. And before you ask me how I know that—Ted told me!'

'I wasn't going to ask,' he said, holding out his cup for a refill.

'Don't deny you thought it, though.'

'Let's say I did wonder—at first.'

'But not now?' she persisted.

'No, not now.'

'So, do you think now that I
am
the right choice for the job?' Somehow it was very important to get him to acknowledge that.

'The board thought so—and that's what counts.'

'You're hedging!' she flared.

'Don't be silly! Haven't I said I no longer believe you got the job because of your father?'

Yes, he had, but he was dodging answering the question after that! 'You still think it should have gone to your friend, don't you?'

'Since you insist on probing the corners of my mind, I'm bound to say he could certainly have done with it.'

'But why this job? I was hearing that he's been offered a similar post in South Wales.'

'So he has—but think of all the trouble and expense and upheaval of moving house with a sickly wife and four small children. Although now, as it's turned out—'

'In other words, family men ought to have priority in the job market—best qualified or not! Well, thank you very much, Mr Neanderthal Preston! We certainly know where we stand now. And to think I thought we were—we really were— Oh, blast!' she sobbed, leaping up and banging out of the flat.

Oh the way downstairs she met Fran, coming up.

Fran flattened herself against the wall on the half-landing to avoid the human missile hurtling towards her. 'You want to be more careful or you could break your neck,' she said as Yona flew past.

Yona scarcely heard and she didn't run out of steam until she'd banged her own door shut behind her.

She'd blown it. She'd lost her temper and blown it—but look at the provocation she'd had! What woman of spirit could have acted otherwise? What was the matter with the man? He was attracted to her—she had sensed that—yet he persisted in parading views he must know she didn't hold with. Was he over-honest, perverse or just plain mad?

All the same, she really wished she hadn't blown her top like that. It would have been much better to stay cool and deal with his archaic views in a light, bantering way. And she probably would have if the wretch didn't attract her so much. Why
was
that? She'd never gone in for the strong, silent type before. Come to think of it, she'd never met a man like Mike before...

Thank heaven she'd already told Ted about the accident. Now he'd never guess there was any other reason for the bad feeling between her and Mike.

But if she stayed in, brooding like this for the rest of the day, she'd go mad. So, what to do? First she dialled Gil's number, then hung up before he could answer. Go home for the rest of the weekend? Only four and a bit hours... No, the M6 was no place for somebody as churned-up as she was.

Yona went out and bought a skirt she didn't need, then went to a cinema, but she had to come out soon after, on finding herself sitting beside a groper. Such was life!

Supper was a sandwich because she couldn't be bothered to cook. After that she took a hefty dose of Mogadon and slept so heavily that she woke late with a head that felt like lead.

Rain was sluicing down the windows. A wet Sunday in Salchester. What depressed person could possibly ask for more? Yona went, yawning, to look for the Sunday papers and found a printed card sticking out of her letter-box. It said simply 'Please open your door.'

She did that and there on the mat and reaching almost to her knees was the largest basket floral arrangement she'd ever received. She stared at it, bemused, for several seconds, before bringing it into the flat.

There was a second card pinned to the basket and her heart speeded up as she recognised the neat, purposeful hand. 'I was way out of order yesterday,' it said. 'Can you forgive me? Please try, Mike.'

Her mood changed on the instant. No longer was he the morose, mixed-up monster he'd been for almost twenty-four hours, but a generous, romantic prince of a man, big enough to admit to being in the wrong. She flew to the phone, then changed her mind and shot into the bathroom instead.

Twenty minutes later, fragrant and casual in a flowing skirt and clinging top of subtle pink which made the most of her auburn hair and remarkable eyes, Yona was standing at Mike's door. She was poised to hurl herself into his arms when the door was opened by Fran. She was wearing a headscarf and a heavy mac and could have been going or coming.

'What do you want?' she asked baldly.

Yona blinked, adjusting. 'I came to see how Mike is getting on.'

'Very well, thank you. I'm seeing to all his needs.'

Was she, indeed? Yona was still concocting a suitable reply when Mike called out, 'Who is it, Fran?'

'That doctor who was here on Friday night,' she called back reluctantly.

'Yona! Well, don't keep her on the doorstep,' he shouted, lumbering down the corridor as fast as his plastered foot would allow.

'He says you can come in.' Fran's version. 'So, do you want me to make coffee, then?' she asked, hoping to delay her departure. 'I've just got time...'

Mike patted her kindly on the shoulder, as though she were a nervous patient or a large dog. 'Not at all, my dear girl. You've done quite enough already this morning—and you know your father likes to get to church in good time.'

'I'm sure he wouldn't mind, the way things are. He thinks the world of you.'

She was obviously so desperate not to leave them alone together that Yona found herself pitying the girl. 'Mike, I've brought the handbook for that word processor I lent you,' she said, by way of explaining her call.

That half reassured Fran, while causing Mike to frown. They stood there, an uneasy trio, until Fran said unhappily, 'Well, perhaps I'd better be off—but I'll come back later.'

'Certainly not,' said Mike firmly. 'As I said, you've done quite enough already. Go and help your father—and enjoy the party. Give my apologies to your friend—I'm sure she'll understand. And thanks again, Fran. You've been marvellous...' He had Yona inside and his door shut before Fran could have reached the stairs.

He leaned against the door and looked at Yona for a long moment, before telling her, 'You look wonderful. Do you always look this good so early on a Sunday morning?'

'Unless I've been working all night,' she said, smiling.

'And, of course, finding such a delightful surprise on my doorstep helped...'

'You got the flowers, then.'

'I did and they're quite lovely. But I can't let you take all the blame for that silly quarrel—'

'Let's forget it for now,' he urged. He took the forgotten booklet out of her hand. 'Thanks for bringing this.'

'Now you can get down to some work,' she said, thinking that she must have read too much into the gift of the flowers.

'Work? Only if I've nothing better to do.'

'Such as?'

'Coffee and chat with...my new friend, for instance?'

'Lovely! But you must let me make it,' she offered eagerly.

This time she did put Fran's cookies on the tray and carried it through to the living room, where Mike was lounging on the couch with his injured foot up.

At first they were wary, but gradually the barriers came down as they talked books and music and sport. They soon found that they both loved skiing and Mike told Yona that he'd only got back from Switzerland the day before she'd started at the Royal.

'I should have guessed that was an Alpine tan...' She dimpled at him. 'I'm going to confess something now. You were so casually dressed that I thought you'd come to mend a window or something. Are you offended?'

'Because you thought I looked like a craftsman? Not at all! Have you never heard it said that orthopaedic surgery is just common sense and carpentry?'

'The man's a wit,' she declared. 'I wonder why I never noticed?'

'And why did it take me so long to realise what a provocative little Scotch witch you are?'

'Scots, if you please. Scotch is what folk drink—if they've any sense, that is.'

'Look at my drinks table,' he suggested.

'I already have. It's got just about everything on it, so you're either very hospitable—or a secret soak!'

'Do I look like a man who's hell-bent on ruining his liver?' he demanded.

Yona eyed him as dispassionately as possible—clear eyes, good skin, firm jaw, lean, hard body. She had to admit, 'No, you look to me like a—a sensible man who takes red wine for his heart and the occasional dram for his sanity.' She was very, very pleased with that.

Mike was also impressed. 'What a golden tongue she has,' he marvelled. 'Well, sometimes, anyway. Are all Scots girls like you?'

'Of course not! I'm unique.'

'I believe that,' he said slowly, and there was that in his eyes which was both exciting and rather scary.

'Oh, look! It's stopped raining and the sun's trying to come out,' she said in a fit of unaccustomed shyness. 'What a pity we can't go for a walk.'

'We could go for a drive, though.'

'But how could you—?'

'I couldn't, but you could.'

'And you'd
trust
me?'

'I'd feel perfectly safe—as long as I was actually in the same car with you...'

'Beast!' She threw a cushion which he fielded and tucked behind his head. 'Have you been to the botanic garden yet?' he asked.

'I didn't know that Salchester had such a thing.'

'Salchester's not all dark, satanic mills, you cheeky bundle! It's got a very fine botanic garden, two splendid art galleries, museums, a repertory theatre and one of the finest symphony orchestras in the country. I'll take you to a concert next week if you're very good.'

How could she ever have thought him tongue-tied? The man was a wonderful talker—
and
he shared most of her leisure interests.

'I'll go and fetch my car before the rain comes on again,' she cried.

'Mine is bigger,' he said practically.

That was true—and it was said that if a man was willing to let you drive his car... 'I've hardly ever driven anything that size,' said Yona, her eyes sparkling.

'Then now's your chance,' he said, tossing her the keys.

'You'll have to navigate,' she reminded him as they set off.

'No problem,' he answered, and there wasn't. He gave her clear directions in plenty of time.

The garden was a real surprise—fifty acres or so in the foothills to the north of the city and not very far from the Burnleys' home. Well-planned woodland surrounded every kind of garden, formal and informal, and not far from the car park was a very good restaurant, which overlooked a small ornamental lake.

After they'd had lunch Yona pointed to a row of wheelchairs by the exit. 'Is that not thoughtful of the authorities? I can take you for a breath of fresh air before the rain comes on again.'

Mike looked absolutely appalled. 'I'm not going in one of those contraptions until I'm seventy,' he growled as he pulled a stout plastic bag out of his pocket and wrapped it securely round his plastered foot.

'Oh, Mike!' she protested. 'Do you think you should?'

'If I can't manage, I'll lean on you,' he said with a saucy grin,' but you can't come here without walking round the lake—and it only takes ten minutes.'

But clouds came scudding up from the west and when they were about halfway round the lake the rain came down in torrents. 'Up here,' said Mike, leaving the main path for a gravel track. He was moving with a speed that surprised her.

He's so game, Yona thought admiringly as she followed. 'You've done this before,' she concluded when they'd gained the shelter of a charming wooden summerhouse.

'Me—and every other Salcestrian. It rains rather a lot in these parts.'

'So I've noticed. And I wish I'd thought to grab a headscarf as well when I went home for my jacket. I must look like a drowned rat.'

'You don't look in the least like a drowned rat,' Mike said slowly, drinking in the sight of her. Her wet hair was now a wonderful dark amber and raindrops glistened on her long, thick lashes. 'You look wonderful. Enchanting...'

When his arms went round her, it seemed the most natural thing in the world, and yet... It's too soon, said reason. You don't really know this man. But the first touch of his mouth on hers was enough to stifle thought and kindle all her fire. They clung to one another like the two drowning people they resembled as the powerful attraction between them finally flared into life.

It was both a relief and a disappointment when the door of the summerhouse was flung open. 'Sorry,' said a newly broken male voice. And then, 'It's no go, Betty.'