Kingfisher Morning

'What a lot of questions you ask,' said Emma sweetly. 'Very nice, as a matter of fact.'

He grimaced. 'I see. The flow of information now ceases, does it? Am I treading on very private ground?' His eyes were sharp as they rested on her face.

She laughed. 'I can see that imagination of yours working away again! No, it isn't private ground. I share my flat with a friend of mine called Fanny—she's a secretary, works for a publisher. She's very pretty, a blonde, and very swe

et. We've shared the flat for two years. Any more questions?'

'The obvious one,' he said coolly.

Her eyes opened very wide. 'Oh? What's that?'

'Where's the man in your life?' he asked.

She was silent for a second, then said calmly, 'There isn't one at present.'

He watched her. 'At present,' he repeated.

Emma had a sudden image of Guy, his face dappled by sunshine under silver birch trees, agile and healthy in tennis clothes, smiling at her. She half-closed her eyes, waiting for pain to tear at her heart, but felt only calm acceptance. Her eyes opened again, a frown of relieved disbelief gathering on her brow.

Ross was still watching her closely. 'Has it been over long?' he asked gently.

She looked at him, astonished, and found herself answering without hesitation. 'Not long.'

'It was serious? For you, at least?'

'I thought so,' she said, still incredulously testing her own feelings.

'And for him?'

'No, never for him, although I thought so, but that wasn't his fault, it was mine,' she answered incoherently.

'He must have given you cause to think so,' said Ross coldly.

She shook her head. 'No. Oh, no. We were friends.' She looked at him appealingly. 'That is possible, you know—friendship between a man and a woman, without strings.'

'In your case it wasn't without strings, apparently,' he replied sardonically.

'Guy didn't realise…'

'He was a fool,' said Ross.

Emma was about to protest, but in her heart of hearts she knew that she agreed with him. Guy must have been blind not to see what was happening to her.

'How did it end?' Ross asked curiously.

Flatly, she said, 'Fanny came home from America and…'

'I get the picture,' Ross interrupted, hearing the echo of old pain in her voice.

Emma looked at him. 'Do you know, I regret Fanny far more than I regret Guy…perhaps soon I'll be able to face her again.'

'Is that why you came down here?' He spoke sharply.

She nodded.

'It was that recent?' Ross demanded.

'It seems like a million years ago,' she said wonderingly. 'Isn't that strange? Sometimes time drags on for years, and nothing seems to happen. Then suddenly time telescopes, and things happen one after the other, giving you no pause for rest, so that you feel quite dazed and disorientated. Fanny and I shared that flat for two years. We dated, we enjoyed ourselves, we worked hard. But nothing really happened…do you know what I mean? It was all very peaceful. Then Fanny went away, and I met Guy and fell for him hard. Fanny came back and I saw their faces…it was like watching two clouds collide—the flash of electricity almost blinded me. I had to get away, so I came down here, only to crash into your sister and find myself, incredibly enough, playing nanny to three children. Sometimes I wonder if this is all real!'