Page 9 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
Pippa shot her mother a furious look and Stef winced. ‘I expect I will work when they’re older. It’s just nice being with them when they’re young.’
‘You’re lucky to have the choice,’ Stef couldn’t stop herself saying. ‘Most of my friends with kids have to go on working to pay the bills and keep up with their careers.’
‘Well, at least I never had a career to keep up,’ Pippa said crossly.
Stef nearly said, ‘You could have done if you’d tried,’ but happily at that moment Baxter barrelled into the kitchen and straight out through the open door into the garden with the twins running after him, shouting, in hot pursuit.
‘Stay inside the garden, you two. Don’t go out to the field without a grown-up!’ Pippa called after them, but there was no indication that they’d heard. ‘Honestly, they don’t take any notice of me.’
Stef sighed and held out her knife. ‘You finish the fruit salad and I’ll go and see what they’re up to.’
‘It’s a deal, Auntie Stef.’ Pippa took the knife and pickedan apple out of the fruit bowl while Stef washed her hands at the sink.
‘After lunch, there’s a surprise for them upstairs,’ their mother told Pippa.
‘You’ve put up the bunks?’ Pippa perked up.
‘Ted has.’
‘Ah, Ted.’ Pippa smirked.
‘Who actuallyisTed?’ Stef asked, drying her hands.
‘He was one of the men who put up the studio for me and he’s been very kind,’ their mother said firmly.
‘Mum’s been painting him.’ Pippa’s eyes twinkled.
‘Oh, really?’ Stef stilled in surprise, remembered the mysterious portrait in the studio.
‘They’re tormenting poor Baxter, Stef. Go and stop them, will you?’
Stef rescued the dog, managed to prevent the twins going into the studio and challenged them instead to do somersaults on the square of lawn. When that became too competitive, she found a football and took them out to the field. After running about on the grass, they grew calmer and sat down with Stef, prepared to engage with her. Jess listed her favourite TV cartoons with occasional interjections from Jack, who was teasing a beetle with a grass stalk.
After lunch, they all went upstairs to view the bunks and the predicted tussle ensued as to who would sleep where when they stayed.
‘Me first on top,’ Jack cried. ‘Can we stay tonight?’
‘No,’ Pippa said, ‘or you won’t see Daddy before he goes back to London.’
Stef wasn’t sorry that they’d be going home – the twins were adorable, but exhausting. And it was hard to get to know them as individuals because they were so absorbed in one other. As usual, though, as she waved them off, she felt she hadn’t had a proper conversation with her sister. She longed for them to be closer, but somehow whenever they met they fell back into their old patterns and it never happened.
Seven
Stef couldn’t be certain that Nancy would show up on Monday for their meeting. Or if she did, out of politeness, whether she would agree to be interviewed. Still, soon after ten, she packed her notebook into her bag and set out on foot for the nature reserve. The weather was sunny, the sky a deep blue with cotton-wool puffs of cloud, but neither the beauty of the day nor the healthy exercise could dispel her sense of trepidation.
As she walked the mile to the visitors’ centre, Stef passed a newly built house of brick and polished flints, with an arc of horseshoes over the door and a shiny brass knocker in the shape of a squirrel. Then there was the intriguing turning to the staithe with its notice advertising boat trips. By the rotting gate of a crumbly old thatched cottage, a wayside stall displayed plants and honey for sale, with an honesty box for payments. Further on, a ginger cat sitting on a wall twitched its tail in warning when she reached to stroke it. As the lineof houses gave out, she ambled beside hedges rampant with wild flowers, breathing in a grassy scent.
At the junction for the reserve, she turned right up the track.
The door to the visitors’ centre stood open to the summer air. When she entered, there was no one except a short, round middle-aged woman, who was busy unpacking books from one of an assortment of cardboard boxes and filling the gaps on the shelves. In the café area, the delicious scent of coffee emanated from a machine which was making cheerful sucking and bubbling noises. Several tables with chairs were arranged nearby.
The woman looked up at her entrance, her hands full of books. The name tag hanging from her lanyard read clearly, ‘Jackie – Volunteer.’ She wore red-framed spectacles, gold dangly earrings and a tunic with a flowery pattern over white trousers. ‘Have you come to see the reserve?’ She looked harassed. ‘I’ll be with you in a sec. The boss is late in and there’s a school party due, so I’m having to do everything myself.’ She set the books on a shelf, then picked up a pair of scissors.
‘Don’t worry. I’m meeting Nancy Foster. You haven’t seen her yet, have you?’
‘Ah, you know Nancy.’ There was warmth in her voice. ‘I haven’t seen her, no.’ She frowned with effort as she slit the tape at the bottom of the empty box. ‘You’re a friend of hers?’
‘My mother’s local and introduced me. I came to the talk Nancy gave on Saturday. Very interesting.’
