The Ten Commandments by Anthea Fraser Page A

a Sunday alone together. They could laze in the garden, perhaps go for a pub lunch, recoup their forces for the following week.
    As it was, preparations for the meal spilled over into Saturday, dominating the whole weekend. Unless she'd managed to shop after work, it meant trailing out to the supermarket, where she'd stare hopelessly at the shelves seeking inspiration. All of which took time she could ill afford, since Saturday was also the day on which the household chores must be done; the house had to be cleaned, the washing seen to, and everything tidied away for the Sunday visitors.
    It seemed they had no time alone, and with her fears about Patrick's straying attention, she was even more conscious how much they needed it.
    His voice broke into her thoughts. 'They're here!'
    She heard him walk through the hall, open the front door and go out on to the gravel to meet them. Sighing, she took off her apron, and went to join him.
    As they sat over their pre-lunch sherries, Sonia surreptitiously studied her in-laws. Sybil Knowles must have been pretty at one time, but years of suffering from a debilitating illness had taken their toll. Though she'd never been anything other than pleasant, Sonia felt Sybil resented her, would have preferred Patrick's attention to have remained fixed solely on herself and her daughter.
    And Zoe seemed to be a replica of her mother. In her case, the prettiness had not quite gone, lingering in the grey eyes and thick fair hair she shared with her brother. But she was pale while Patrick was tanned, small where he was tall, timid while he was outgoing, and altogether seemed much younger than she actually was.
    She had had a breakdown some years previously and her mother and brother continued to treat her as an invalid. However, it seemed to Sonia that she played on her fragility, and was actually capable of doing more than she admitted. The fear which she'd voiced to Gillian, that on Mrs Knowles's death Zoe would move in with them, returned, filling her with dread.
    'We thought we might go away for a few days,' Zoe was saying, 'just for a little break, to give Mother a change of scene.'
    'Good idea,' Patrick said heartily, refilling Sonia's glass. (Sybil and Zoe had both refused a top-up, making her feel like a seasoned toper.) 'Where will you go?'
    'Oh, not far. Up into the Cotswolds, probably. As you know. I'm not a very confident driver.'
    'If you want to go farther afield, I could always run you there,' Patrick volunteered. 'And collect you, when you're ready to come home.'
    'Oh, we couldn't expect you to do that!' Zoe protested, but Sonia knew, from her satisfied expression, that it was, in fact, exactly what she'd expected.
    'Nonsense. Just say the word.'
    'Well, we had talked about the Lake District –' Zoe's voice tailed off.
    Sonia heard herself say, 'There are always trains, you know, if you don't want to drive.'
    They all turned to look at her, three Knowles faces expressing surprise. For an uncomfortable moment, she felt a complete outsider. Then Sybil said equably, 'Of course there are. Sonia wants Patrick to spend his weekends with her, dear, not ferrying us around the country. It's only natural.'
    'In that case,' Zoe said with a small sigh, 'we'll stick with the Cotswolds. You know you couldn't cope with a long train journey.'
    Sonia wanted to protest that a train was more comfortable, allowed more room, provided meals, but she'd already said too much and had been subtly wrong-footed for doing so. Instead, she smiled brightly. 'I'll go and make the gravy,' she said.
    Out in the kitchen, though, she felt ashamed of herself. Between them, they'd made her look selfish and ungracious – and perhaps she was. It had, after all, been kind of Patrick to offer his help; she knew he felt responsible for them, and their claim on him predated her own. He'd been taking care of them since he was fifteen, when his father died. Her intervention had been petty and, she admitted, motivated by