Bulbury Knap by Sheila Spencer-Smith Page B

home. It’s not that simple.’
    â€˜If he thinks so he’s a fool,’ said Michael.
    She shivered. ‘And we all know he isn’t that. Misguided, but not a fool.’ With another glance at Zillah’s cottage Michael bent to pick up his box of cyclamen.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Kathryn, standing at the kitchen door, could hardly believe that the day for the garden club visit had finally arrived. Already Zillah had placed her easel on the cobbled yard with a canvas on it ready for use outside her cottage. Several unframed paintings stood against the wall, their brilliant colours brightening a scene that Kathryn found appealing. She hoped the visitors would too.
    They were due in just under an hour. In spite of Andrew’s disapproval Sir Edwin wouldn’t hear of cancelling the arrangement and Lady Hewson was quietly adamant that everything should go ahead as planned. They had not seen Andrew since.
    Deep in thought, Kathryn turned away to check that the preparations were in order for the arrival of the visitors. All would be well as long as Andrew kept away. She had known early on that his apparent concern for his aunt and uncle’s welfare was nothing but a sham. The deviousness of it was disturbing.
    Obviously there was something deeper here than the trusting Hewsons were aware of and Michael thought so too. Her mother’s job would vanish for sure and she would lose the chance of living her dream. And herself? She sighed, ashamed of the split second relief she had felt at her mother’s postponed return. She knew with deep certainty that to leave Bulbury Knap now would tear her into shreds.
    And now there was the latest news of Zillah’s burnt-out studio to worry about. Making the place habitable again and modernising the wiring, the likely cause of the fire, would take months. Kathryn felt a shimmer of doubt about the wisdom of Zillah’s decision to ask Sir Edwin if she could stay on in the cottage permanently. If Andrew had plans for Bulbury Knap Zillah would be the first out and she didn’t want that for her friend. Even if Andrew didn’t get his way she wasn’t quite sure that she liked the idea of having Zillah around all the time.
    Kathryn sighed. So what did it make her … selfish and uncaring, that’s what. Ashamed, she tried hard to be glad for Zillah that she had somewhere like this to stay.
    Across the yard Zillah emerged from the cottage with another armful of paintings.
    â€˜What’s this, a public exhibition?’ Kathryn called across to her.
    Zillah put her cargo down and waved. Her smock was ruffled and her dishevelled hair looked as if it hadn’t seen a comb for weeks. ‘Why not? I’ll get changed in a minute and set to work. A bit of local colour.’
    Kathryn walked across to her, smiling. ‘Have you seen the display of cyclamen Michael’s got ready in the greenhouse? Sir Edwin says they’re impressive. All for sale. Other things too.’
    â€˜He’s worked hard,’ Zillah said. ‘A great guy.’
    â€˜You’ve seen what Michael’s been doing?’
    â€˜I’ve watched those flower buds unfurl as if they’re my babies,’ Zillah said lovingly.
    There was something in her voice that made Kathryn pause. She hadn’t seen much of Michael since meeting him in the yard a day or two ago. She had been busy too, of course, making batches of biscuits and sorting out a good recipe for the fruit punch that would be served today. She had picked up the hired glasses yesterday afternoon and Michael had helped unload them from the car on her return. He had organised the wine too but she had seen him only briefly on those occasions, understanding his need to get back to his own work. It seemed that Zillah had seen a lot more of him than she had.
    Zillah finished placing her paintings against the wall. ‘Michael reckoned it would be a good idea to have them on show,’ she said.