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indignantly.
    â€˜No. But Fenny does. And she’s right. So I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf and become a social butterfly instead!’

CHAPTER FIVE
    F RANCES D YSART was astonished when she heard that in the short time since parting with her daughter Kate had not only managed to run into Jack Spencer, but have coffee with him at the Chesterton.
    â€˜Take her straight home, Frances,’ said Tom Dysart, chuckling, ‘or who knows what else she might get up to.’
    Kate blew him a kiss, then asked her mother to drive on the way back to Stavely. ‘Can’t have Toby thinking I look like a hag tonight.’
    â€˜Where’s he taking you? The Forrester’s Arms? No, I suppose not, if you’re going there with Alasdair on Thursday. How about tomorrow? Anyone lined up for that, or will you grace the family table?’
    â€˜Unless I get a better offer!’
    â€˜You should have let me buy you another dress for your dinner with Alasdair,’ scolded Frances.
    â€˜The one I’ve got will do very well,’ protested Kate. ‘I’m told it’s flattering.’
    â€˜Very flattering,’ said her mother darkly. ‘A good thing you’re small.’
    â€˜If you mean it clings a bit, it’s meant to.’
    Frances sighed, impatient with herself. ‘I’m an idiot. I worry that you lead too quiet a life in Foychurch, and now I’m fussing because your social life’s gone up a gear. But Toby’s an old friend, Alasdair too, so I don’t have to worry about them.’
    â€˜Mother, you don’t have to worry where JackSpencer’s concerned either. Quite apart from the fact that he’s related to one of my pupils, Adam liked him,’ Kate reminded her.
    â€˜So he did,’ said her mother, brightening, and overtook a heavy goods lorry with panache.
    Â 
    â€˜How was Toby?’ said Frances next day, over the lunch they’d invited Gabriel to share with them. ‘Was it a good film?’
    â€˜Toby was the same as usual—pleasant, relaxing company—likewise the film.’ Kate grinned at her mother. ‘And, yes, he kissed me goodnight, and, no, I’m not seeing him again this half-term, but I probably shall when I’m home next.’
    â€˜I’m just interested,’ said Frances, unrepentant, and held out her arms for her grandson. ‘Alasdair rang last night, Kate. Said he couldn’t get you on your cellphone.’
    â€˜I left it at home for once. What did he want?’
    â€˜Officially to confirm dinner with him tomorrow night. So he said.’ Frances smiled smugly over the baby’s head. ‘But I think he just wanted a chat with you.’
    â€˜So what did you tell him?’
    â€˜That you were out with a friend. I asked if I could take a message, and he told me to say he’d call for you at seven tomorrow.’
    Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘We’d already arranged that.’
    â€˜Aha, he’s keeping tabs on you. I hope you said Kate was with a male friend, Frances,’ said Gabriel, laughing.
    â€˜I thought I’d better leave that to her!’
    Kate glanced at Gabriel’s heavy eyes. ‘Tuck Hal up in his buggy and I’ll take him for a stroll now it’s cleared up a bit. Go home for a nap. Auntie’ll take over for a couple of hours.’
    Kate was very thoughtful, later, as she pushed thebuggy down a quiet lane in an afternoon bright with sunshine now rain had washed the snow away. She found it increasingly hard to believe in this new, persistent Alasdair who rang her so often. In their Cambridge days he’d treated her with affectionate indulgence, as though she were a clever child rather than an attractive female, with a full set of the normal feelings and needs that implied. Yet now that he apparently did see her as an attractive woman, she was no longer starry-eyed about him. Nor about any other man. Kate smiled down at