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‘I’m Lucy,’ the young woman said, a picture of primness in her black dress and starched white pinafore with matching cap. She possessed a smouldering dark gaze that landed on Harry and remained on him, Alex noted. ‘May I take your order?’

‘Why not?’ Matthew agreed, beaming at her. ‘Darling – what’s your poison today?’

‘I’ll have a pot of Darjeeling, please,’ she replied, forcing Lucy’s attention off Harry to her small pad. Her pencil scribbled.

‘Sir?’ Lucy said, lifting her eyes to Harry once again. ‘What can I offer you?’ she asked and managed to make it sound more than a little generous.

Alex saw Harry break into the easy smile that hurt her heart as she realised in that instant that she might never feel it fall on her again, alone with that same playfulness. These could be her last moments in his company and she was being forced to share them with Matthew and a waitress who was clearly flirting with the man she loved. Yes, she did love him; that was the reality of today. She had avoided confronting that truth, soothing herself it was an infatuation, their friendship barely days old, their intimacy hours old. Who was she fooling? She had fallen for Harry during supper at her home . . . how effortlessly he could make her laugh, how easily he kissed her and won her eager response. Now he knew every inch of her, had touched her in a way she had never known. She had cried out, hadn’t she? She had called his name aloud in a sighing mix of ecstasy and surprise. She knew she was blushing, recalling their morning, and behind it galloped a restless anger that she would now be denied that experience, and all of those hot, desperately wanted sensations again.

‘What would you recommend?’ she heard her lover enquire distantly on the rim of her mind.

‘You’re in the north, sir,’ Lucy replied, without hesitation, and even chanced a cheeky wink. ‘I would recommend our own brand at Betty’s of the best Yorkshire tea.’

‘Perfect,’ Harry said, giving Lucy the benefit of another beaming grin.

Alex wanted him to stop flirting with the pretty waitress but she was in no position to insist upon anything. She watched Lucy reluctantly shift her attention to Matthew, who Alex noted was not in the slightest bit interested in the woman with her bouncing hazel curls and generous lips that looked like they enjoyed being kissed. Harry, meanwhile, was still looking at her, Alex observed sourly. She comforted herself that he was doing this deliberately to avoid looking her way with the shared misery that their final couple of hours had been stolen.

‘Er, let me see.’ Matthew frowned, scouring the menu. ‘Make mine Assam. I like a strong brew.’

Lucy pasted on her best serving smile and offered sandwiches and a stand of cakes for the three to share, which Matthew gladly agreed to. And then she was gone, with only a slight backward gaze at Harry, leaving the odd trio to themselves.

‘Over to you, Blakeney. I’m all ears,’ Matthew said with a forced brightness.

Why did she get the impression that they had interrupted his plans as much as he had disturbed theirs?

She listened to Harry retell his sad tale, during which Lucy and a helper served their refreshments. The tea arrived in heavy nickel silver teapots and the china was near transparent. Alex was impressed that their cool grey-blue gave way to white inside the teacups.

‘I see. So you’re now on the hunt for this elusive girl who worked in the factory some four or five years back.’

Harry shrugged. ‘I don’t know. She may never have worked there. I’m making a sweeping presumption. Either way, we haven’t found her yet,’ he replied, not wishing to admit they hadn’t yet tried. ‘But I have returned Fletcher’s belongings to his family.’

‘So it hasn’t been an altogether wasted journey,’ Matthew finished for him, slanting a look at his wife, prompting a fresh sense of alarm that he could see straight through the talk, all the way to her infidelity.

‘No,’ Harry replied softly. ‘Not a wasted journey at all.’ She knew from his tone it was directed at her and warmth flooded but she would not allow herself to look his way. Matthew was far too canny. And she was not ready to have a conversation about infidelity with him.

She could hear in the awkward pause that she needed to deflect Matthew from probing more into the last few days. Harry was sounding guiltier by the moment too; she wondered if he regretted today. Right at this moment she felt an overwhelming desire to reach out, hold his hand and assure him that she had no such regret. In fact she was surprised how light her heart felt in the midst of her shame and the despair of knowing she would lose Harry. She beamed a fresh smile at Matthew as he began to speak, his attention back on her.

‘So what have you discovered about this woman?’

Alex took a breath to fashion a fib, but it was Harry who spoke first. ‘I only know her first name. Signed simply Kitty, it’s been —’

Both men looked sharply at Alex when she helplessly gasped at the mention of Kitty. So fate had not finished with her yet.

21

‘Everything all right, darling?’

‘Er . . . yes, yes, of course,’ Alex assured, her mind in turmoil, reaching for any reason to excuse her outburst. ‘I just spotted an old friend I haven’t seen in years.’ She raised a hand and feigned a bright smile in the direction of the door as two women entered. Fortunately they were around her age. ‘I lost track of her during the war years and we were so close during school days. If you’ll excuse me, I might just go over and say hello on my way to the bathroom.’

Both men stood, her husband looking bemused, and Harry frowning slightly.

‘Hurry back, darling, or your tea will arrive and get cold.’

She cast a smile over her shoulder but moved purposefully, with her throat feeling as though it might close with horror. Kitty! Kitty! So it was poor Tom Fletcher who had been the recipient of her note! It had seemed fun, even kind, with its sweet intention but now she felt distraught by its repercussions. She arrived as the pair of women queued for a table.

‘Excuse me.’

The taller of the two turned to her. Crimson lipstick of darkest cherry to match her coat was painted across a wide mouth that stretched into a generous smile. ‘Yes?’