Where the Heart Belongs by Sheila Spencer-Smith

after next. Watercolour.’
    â€˜Ingrid’s the one to ask about that.’
    â€˜She’s gone off to the post office.’
    Mags frowned. ‘She didn’t tell me. I’ve letters to go and Donald left in the minibus before they were ready. He’ll do some business for Jack in Dumfries and back to the Forest Park to pick the group up at four o’clock.’
    â€˜I’ll take your letters when I’ve made some calls,’ said Shona as she reached for the phone on the wall. She ran her finger down the list. No answer to the first number she tried, or the second. The third sounded hopeful but would get back to her this evening. She explained that she needed to know at once but would phone again if she hadn’t found anyone.
    â€˜Is one of them Mervyn Howard from Edinburgh?’ Mags asked as she spooned apple on to the pastry. ‘Try him. Ingrid likes him. He might do.’
    Shona smiled as she dialled the number, trying to imagine someone that Ingrid liked. Tall, dark and handsome? Quite likely. No, on second thought, medium height would be better and a liking for the same rather way-out clothes that Ingrid favoured. Flowing and artistic-looking. But whatever he looked like he sounded pleasant enough when he answered and was agreeable to standing in at short notice.
    She replaced the receiver with a feeling of a job well done and was glad to sit at the table while Mags made the promised coffee. Afterwards she walked down to the end of the drive with Mags’ letters in her hand.
    *   *   *
    Shona joined Jack for lunch in the dining room and while they ate the sandwiches and salad Mags had prepared he told her of the Orchid Fair in Cheshire he was planning to visit. ‘I’ll be away for about three days,’ he said. ‘It’s an important event.’
    She nodded. ‘An annual one?’
    â€˜It will be from now on. I’m hoping to pick up something really special. I’d like you, Shona, to keep an eye on my beauties while I’m gone as Ingrid’s busy. Will you do that?’
    â€˜Of course.’
    â€˜Only a couple need frequent watering. The rest will cope till I get back. Ingrid has typed a list of instructions out for you so there’s no problem. You’ll find it in the folder. Thanks for sorting the new tutor.’
    Mags brought in the apple pie and set it in front of Shona for her to serve.
    The golden crust was crisp and sweetly-scented steam rose as Shona cut into it, making her eyes water.
    â€˜This looks good,’ said Jack, taking his serving from her. She handed him the jug of cream.
    He was good company when he was relaxed. She wondered if she was wise to raise the subject of not being here on duty the other evening or whether it was better to say nothing. She hated this feeling that she was in the wrong and longed to have things straight between them.
    He raised his glass to his lips. ‘Something troubling you, Shona?’
    She shook her head. ‘Not really. A bit of a responsibility looking after the orchids, that’s all.’
    â€˜You’ll cope.’ He sounded so full of confidence in her that she felt a warm flush in her cheeks. She would do everything in her power to make sure his trust was well founded in spite of Ingrid’s attempts to undermine her.
    A sudden thought struck her. ‘You said there were two orchids that needed frequent watering, Jack. Which are they?’
    He looked amused as he wiped his lips with his napkin. ‘There’s my new baby in its own hanging basket in the east window of the conservatory. Do you know the one I mean? It’s labelled, of course, as they all are.
Coelogyne cristata
would you believe, a long name for such a pretty little white frilly one.
String Of Pearls
to you and me. She needs to be watered liberally at the moment, but don’t let her sit in water as that could rot her tender shoots.’
    â€˜And the