‘…but I look more like my dad so not surprising you didn’t.’
‘You look like both of your parents,’ Jo replied.
Except I want to look more like Dad, Jules thought. I don’t want to look like Mum. She studied the woman opposite. She did remember her vaguely.
‘You look different to how I remember, too.’
‘Well, I am older,’ Jo said, biting into a pistachio.
‘And your hair is different. Nice, but different.’
Jo put a hand to her mahogany-coloured hair.
‘Thank you. I do miss your mum. We were good friends.’
‘I remember now. You left quite suddenly. I can’t believe the coincidence of us meeting up like this.’
‘Some believe there are no such things as coincidences, more inevitabilities. You don’t know why I moved away?’
Jules shook her head.
‘Mum never said.’
‘My husband mistreated me. Badly. I had to get away with Daniel. I left my daughters behind, changed my name, grew my hair and made a new life for myself. I pray every day that he’ll never find us.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
Jo shrugged.
‘Life can test us to our limits, Jules. No one is immune.’
‘No. I suppose not.’
‘What do you think about Hideaway Cottage? Just walking past it gives me goosebumps.’
‘I only arrived yesterday, but it’s very cocooning.’
‘I expect it was difficult to drag yourself away so soon after getting there.’
‘It was a bit spur of the moment,’ Jules mumbled. ‘I’m doing a favour for Rita – collecting Tasha. I don’t even know her. All we’ve done is wave at each other from a distance. She probably won’t want to come with me.’
‘Now’s the time to find out.’
Jules stood up as Tasha paused outside the studio door. A tall man appeared behind her and put his hand on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear. She nodded, glanced around the courtyard and then pointed towards Jules.
‘Hello,’ the man said, approaching with long, loping strides, his hand still firmly attached to Tasha’s shoulder, part propelling her along, part preventing her from running away, Jules suspected. Tasha looked as apprehensive as she felt.
The man held out his free hand, smiling at Jo and leaning across the table towards Jules at the same time. Just as quickly as he extended his hand, he withdrew it and wiped it on his grey jeans, which looked as if they had seen better days.
‘Sorry, still a bit covered in clay,’ he said. ‘As usual. Probably better stick to hello. I’m Lance.’ He smiled, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘I understand you’ve kindly offered to give Tash a ride home.’
‘Yes.’
‘I could have walked,’ Tasha said, seemingly fascinated by the gravel at her feet. ‘I’m not a baby.’
Lance’s cool grey eyes travelled from Jules back towards the girl at his side.
‘No one is suggesting you are,’ he said, ‘but it’s a narrow lane in parts and sometimes cars go along it too fast. Your granny worries about you when you walk. We all worry about you.’
