Page 4 of Snow Going Back

With a sigh, Kate checked herself over in the mirror and tried to rub some life back into her pale skin, then pulled her loose wavy hair forward to better frame her face and trail down the front of her cream cable-knit jumper.

‘Don’t worry – you look fine. Eleanor will never know you’ve indulged in a nap.’ He shot her a grin, a teasing twinkle in his eye.

‘You underestimate my mother,’ Kate replied with a wry smile.

She looked out of the window at the familiar sight of the yellow stone cottages and the higgledy-piggledy stone walls edging their front gardens, her mind still worriedly circling everything that was still waiting for her to pick back up on Monday. Maybe she’d try and get a few hours in tomorrow, after she’d caught up on some sleep.

As Lance rounded the corner that led to her childhood home, Kate pulled on her cream beret and gathered her things.

‘It really is beautiful all year round here, isn’t it?’ Lance remarked. ‘It must have been a great place to grow up.’

‘Mm,’ Kate replied noncommittally. She hadn’t been the biggest fan of the place as a child.

‘I could definitely live here,’ he continued, swinging onto the wide gravel drive at the front of the house.

Kate blinked in surprise. ‘Really?’

‘Swap the view of city skyscrapers for cultured countryside? Absolutely,’ he replied. He parked between her parents’ cars and cut the engine. ‘I mean this is exactly the sort of place you aim to settle down in, isn’t it?’

The front door opened and Eleanor leaned out, waving excitedly. Lance waved back and got out of the car, and after a moment, Kate followed suit, pursing her lips and choosing not to answer that question. She personally couldn’t think of anythingworsethan living back here. A childhood full of mundane community tea parties, neighbourly one-upmanship and intense focus on lawn and plant care had put her firmly off that particular idea.

‘Darling.’ Eleanor held out her arms and pulled Kate in for a hug.

‘Hi, Mum,’ Kate replied.

Eleanor stepped back and held her at arm’s length. ‘Let’s take a look at you.’

Kate waited, resignedly, to discover what her mother disapproved of today, but after a short silence Eleanor simply smiled.

‘Asbeautifulas ever,’ she chirped. ‘Have you done something new with your hair? I love it!’

Without waiting for an answer, Eleanor grabbed Lance’s arm and ushered him inside.

Kate frowned and followed them, feeling unnerved. The last time Eleanor complimented her so unconditionally, she’d gone on to tell her the family dog had died. But there were no more pets in the house.

Suddenly her eyes flew wide and she sped up. ‘Dad?’

Ten minutes later, Kate sipped on her lukewarm tea and watched her parents warily over the rim of the delicate bone-china cup that her mother usually guarded against the use of with her life. The tea set was Eleanor’s pride and joy, kept only for important visitors, such as the vicar, or the Queen.

‘Another Chocolate Oliver, Lance?’ Eleanor asked, holding out the plate of dark-chocolate-coated biscuits.

‘Oh, er, no, thank you.’ Lance smiled tightly.

‘Oh. Don’t you like them?’ Eleanor looked disappointed.

Kate and Henry exchanged a private look, and Kate had to bite her inner cheek to hold back a grin. No one in their house actuallylikedthem – her mother included, not that she’d admit it – but after reading an article inHello!magazine that it was the Queen’s favourite biscuit, she’d insisted on serving it to anyone who visited.

‘They’re lovely,’ Lance lied, ‘I just need to watch the old waistline.’

‘Of course,’ Eleanor replied, placing the plate back on the table. ‘Your dedication to keeping yourself fit is admirable,Lance. If onlyeveryonepossessed such discipline.’ She turned and swept her gaze pointedly over her husband.

Henry, who’d been carefully guiding a sugar lump between the bowl and his cup with the tongs, glanced at his wife with a slight pause, then dropped it in and began to stir with a defiant smile. Kate had to turn away this time as Eleanor’s face twitched with irritation.

‘How’s work going, Kate?’ Henry asked. ‘Much going on?’

‘Oh, let’s not talk shop today, Henry. It’s Saturday,’ Eleanor said quickly.

Kate looked at her, surprised. Eleanor usuallylovedto talk about her work. The fact her only daughter was a successful lawyer was her favourite bragging right. She also usually enjoyed offering her detailed opinion on what Kateshouldhave done on a case, as though she were a retired law oracle and not a suburban housewife whose only flirtation with work had been a stint selling Avon to the neighbours.

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