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his father and two cans of cider for him and Em. As he handed one to her, he saw her hands were shaking. He bit his lip. He didn’t want to go home any more than she did, but he could tell this was a huge deal for her and one that was not going to be negotiable. He reached into his hip pocket and touched his phone. Should he ring Bea now or later?

35

The Kingdom of Wessex by Simon Armstrong.

Sandra pulled off the cardboard packaging and dropped it on the floor. It had been left with her upstairs neighbour while she was out. She turned the book over in her hands and looked at the picture of the author inside the back cover. Yes, that was him. It was a big book, heavy and serious looking, with footnotes on every page, but with lots of illustrations too. She had googled him several times but, to her intense frustration, short of telling her that he was married and had two children and lived in London, there was nothing of a personal nature in the information she could find, and that was all there was on the flyleaf as well. She already knew about the children, but the fact that he lived in London was interesting. And he was married. She sat down, the book on her knee, and considered the matter. The wife did not appear to be around, at least not when he was in the cathedral with the kids. Was it possible, she wondered, that there was something going on between Beatrice and him. If there was, it might explain the hold Beatrice had over the family.

She had a good idea where they were staying. She had laboriously looked through masses and masses of holiday lets in the area and researched them until she found one owned by someone called Christine. Isolated; beautiful; idyllic historic setting in the hills between Radnor Forest and Offa’s Dyke.

She sat still for a long time, thinking, the book in her hands, and then she smiled. She stood up and put the book on the table. Tomorrow she would drive up to the isolated idyllic cottage and take a look.

‘You have got to be joking!’ Val had arrived before eight. ‘I set off before dawn to get here early so we can get a good start, and you tell me Emma isn’t here!’ She looked from Simon to Felix and back, her face set with anger. ‘Why isn’t she here? Where is she?’

Simon was cursing to himself. He should have guessed Val might arrive early, and he most definitely should have guessed Emma might pull a stunt like this. ‘I’m sorry, Val. I do know she was very unhappy about the change of plans, but I’ve no clue where she is.’ He cast a pleading look at Felix, who shrugged moodily.

‘I don’t want to go back early either,’ he said. ‘Why on earth couldn’t we stick to the arrangements and then go on the train? That way we could revise all the way back to London!’ He kicked at his rucksack. He had packed it, Simon had noticed, but then there hadn’t been much to pack. Emma’s bedroom still had most of her possessions scattered round it. They had found the note on her pillow. ‘I’m not coming back until my mother has gone. Don’t even think about looking for me.’

Val sighed theatrically. ‘Well, be it on her own head. Get everything together, Felix. At least you’ve got some common sense. I’m not waiting for the stupid girl. She’ll have to take the train on her own.’

‘No. I’ll stay and come back with her.’ Felix looked completely distraught. ‘Please, Mum.’

‘Out of the question. You have your GCSEs to revise for. The last thing you need is to waste your time in this godforsaken place.’

‘Val, darling.’ Simon caught her wrist and pulled her towards him. ‘Please, don’t be cross. It’s not really a big deal, is it, if she comes later? I’ll put her on the train in Hereford. She’s working well here. It’s a good place to concentrate.’ He kissed her gently. Glancing over her shoulder he caught Felix’s eye. The boy gave his father a conspiratorial wink.

‘I’ll come with you, Mum. It would be nice to have some special time together, just you and me.’ Felix was in diplomatic mode. ‘If you make Emma come now, she’ll be a pain all the way home, you know she will.’

Val sighed. She knew when she was beaten.

‘Come and have a cup of coffee before you set off,’ Simon cajoled her.

Sipping coffee outside on the terrace she was forced to admit that the cottage was, far from being godforsaken, the possessor of the most beautiful view, and very cosy. It wasn’t its fault it was small.

As Simon watched the car drive down the hill he thanked the gods of every pantheon that as they sat up there outside the cottage the sun had chosen to come out and flooded the unfolding mountainscape with beguiling golden light. The last thing he saw was his son looking back over his shoulder, and Felix’s thumbs up as he waved out of the window. He was going to miss him. He turned and walked back in through the gate. Behind him a small red car had driven up the hill. It must have had to pull in to let Val drive by. He didn’t bother to turn to look as he walked up the steep path to the cottage door. He was too busy wondering how long it would be before Emma showed up, and in the meantime he was going to have to ring Bea and tell her about the developments.

‘I did wonder if she’d been in touch with you,’ he said as he wandered round the kitchen, the phone to his ear. He looked forlornly at the three plates laid out on the table. Val may have stopped long enough for coffee,

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