Free Dastardly Deeds by Ilsa Evans Page B

into the tightest of spaces and I tucked my handbag under the seat before piling off the bus to join the swelling crowd.
    The amount of people both added to and detracted from the impact. I took off my hat and made my way along the beach, stepping carefully over the large pebbles, shading my eyes as I gazed at the looming cliffs. I tried to picture the young men spilling from the boats, already under fire, and then scrambling towards a safety that was deceptive at best. I felt a surge of anger towards the military bigwigs who had sat out the conflict in relative peace, manipulating the lives of others as if they really were just pins on a board. And all for nothing. Gallipoli was the most fruitless of campaigns.
    I turned and retraced my steps towards the broad steps that led to the road. I could see Ashley and Nick standing by the cenotaph nearby. I knew that they had already spent the previous day, while we had been at Troy, touring the Gallipoli peninsula, so today was really just an encore.
    Ashley glanced across and gave me one of his half-smiles. It said: ‘I can’t express pleasure, not in this place, but it’s bloody nice to look up and see you. Perhaps we can talk later, do some more of that flirting from last night. I like your hat.’ There was every chance I was reading a little too much into it, but my interpretation brought a pleasant little flutter. And I was on holiday, so why the hell not.
    I looked around for my daughters and found them standing with their grandmother and having their photo taken by Petra. Ruby was in profile, her brown hair caught up in a ponytail that fluffed in the breeze. She held her shoes in her hand and as soon as the photo was taken, she walked away, her bare feet leaving temporary prints in the damp sand. She was beautiful, a perfect blend of Darcy and me – but taken up a notch.
    ‘Spoke to her last night about her plans,’ said Darcy, coming up by my side. ‘While you were … busy.’
    I ignored the latter part of his statement. ‘What did she say?’
    ‘She’s going back to Cornwall with your sister. She wants to stay there.’
    ‘Stay there,’ I repeated stupidly. I felt my stomach twist, like a flannel being wrung. Why hadn’t Petra told me?
    ‘She says everyone always compares her with Scarlet and she’s fed up.’
    ‘Nobody compares her with Scarlet!’
    ‘Maybe what she means is that she compares
herself
with Scarlet,’ said Darcy gently. ‘Anyway, she thinks she needs to forge her own path. Away.’
    ‘I see. And how does she plan on supporting herself?’
    ‘Apparently she’s lined up a job with your father.’
    I stared towards the horizon. My father had deserted his family when I was quite young and founded a new one in the south of England. Even though contact had been maintained, I hadn’t actually seen him again until last year. He seemed a nice enough man, but in some ways I preferred it when he’d kept his distance. Bad enough that my sister was spending time over there, now he was kidnapping my daughter as well.
    ‘It might be good for her,’ said Darcy, putting a hand on my shoulder.
    ‘Sure.’
    ‘Don’t be too rough. She’s worried you’ll think she’s being irresponsible.’
    ‘How did she get the money for this trip?’ I asked abruptly.
    He put his hand back in his pocket and cleared his throat.
    ‘You lent it to her!’
    ‘Well, yes. I wanted to see her.’
    ‘Darcy, she owes
me
money for her charity stint. I’d bet my bottom dollar that she owes Petra money for the last few months, and now she owes you money as well! She has absolutely no assets, has started but never finished a handful of university courses, and now has landed some menial job courtesy of a man who’s not exactly renowned for fulfilling his parental responsibilities.’
    Darcy gave me a flat grin. ‘Can’t understand why she’s worried about telling you. It’s beyond me.’
    ‘And I suppose you bought her that new camera too?’
    ‘No, I believe