Free Where the Heart Belongs by Sheila Spencer-Smith Page A

for her, ever since she was little and Felix could think only of his pots and the setting up of his gallery. His daughter had always come a close second. She had known that for years.
    Now, seated at a table out of sight of most of the customers, she was mature enough to understand the worry she must have been to him, always needing to be looked after when he was struggling to get things going. She could see him now with that slightly vulnerable look he had when something seemed to be defeating him and then the sudden lighting up of his face before he lunged at her and held her close. His soothing words of comfort had been for himself as much as for the little girl so close to his heart. She could see that now, quite clearly, and felt ashamed.
    She swallowed the rest of her drink in a couple of angry gulps. Last time she hadn’t had the sense to phone Felix instead of taking off from school in a panic and look where it had got her. Luck had been with her then. Luck that the woman who had found her half-dead at the gate had the sense to drive her straight back to school, no questions asked. Well, not many. Not that she had been missed anyway until she turned up again and then faces had been decidedly red and serve them all right.
    There was a bustle at the door as two customers tried to get out at the same time as someone was coming in.
    â€˜Felix!’ Tamsin sprang up, nearly knocking over her empty glass in her haste to reach him.
    â€˜Tamsin.’ His face broke into a grin and he lifted her off the ground in a tight hug.
    â€˜Oh, Felix.’ She was so pleased he was here that tears welled in her eyes.
    â€˜So where’s your luggage?’ he asked as he set her down again.
    Tamsin glanced at her rucksack by the wall. ‘Travelling light?’
    â€˜Not you. Come on, where is it?’
    â€˜Back at the station being looked after. It’ll be OK.’
    He frowned. ‘You’re too casual, Tamsin. One day you’ll be in trouble, left stranded somewhere with your belongings stolen. And what will you do then?’ Felix raised an eyebrow.
    She smiled. ‘Dear Felix. You sound as if you cared.’
    â€˜I’ll settle with Liz and then we’ll be off to collect your stuff.’
    â€˜But that defeats my purpose,’ she objected. ‘I wanted to do the whole trip home without bothering anyone.’
    â€˜Least of all me?’
    â€˜You could say that.’
    â€˜I’ve let you down again, haven’t I, Tamsin, not being where I was supposed to be?’
    He looked so downcast that her heart softened.
    *   *   *
    Crag Cottage, when they got there at last, surprised her with its unfamiliar tidiness. No piles of old newspapers, abandoned crockery and cushions on the dusty floor anymore. Or jerseys slung across the backs of chairs and open suitcases left for the unwary to trip over.
    â€˜What’s this?’ she said.
    He carried in her suitcase and prepared to take it upstairs. ‘Thought it needed it,’ he said, without looking at her.
    â€˜But why now? Are you expecting someone else?’
    â€˜Maybe, one day.’
    â€˜Felix! We never have visitors.’
    He paused halfway up the staircase, balancing the suitcase on the step above. ‘Doesn’t mean to say we never will.’
    â€˜Who is she?’
    The short silence before he spoke felt threatening. ‘Someone I met,’ he said quietly.
    â€˜That’s no answer.’
    â€˜I invited her to come and see the studio. That’s all.’
    She knew it wasn’t all but she didn’t want to hear any more and wouldn’t question him further.
    He shrugged, turning his face away from her. ‘It may not happen.’
    â€˜Hurry up with that suitcase. I want to get unpacked,’ she said. The sooner she had strewn her own belongings about the place to stake her claim to her own territory the better for her peace of