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a landscape of several neatly trimmed bushes, with two oak trees. She parked just behind a car in the street, in front of the house, and ran up the walk to tap lightly at the door. Footsteps sounded, heavier than she’d expected, and the door swung to reveal to her David Raymond. He stood still, staring frowningly down at her.
    She backed up an involuntary step, muttering something; she wasn’t sure what. Then he was swinging the door open wide and calling over his shoulder, “It’s Dana Haslow, Grace. Come on in, Dana.” And she heard the older lady call out a welcome from the living room. She had no choice. Even if she’d entertained a brief, vague hope of leaving and coming back later, she had to go in now.
    Stepping gingerly by the silent and still man, she sent him an uncertain, wary look before heading on into the living room with as much of an appearance of normality as she could muster. Mrs. Cessler was positioned on the couch where she spent all her day, still in a heavy cast. Dana noticed with a pang that her hair since the accident had become even more wispy and white, and her lined face seemed to have shrunken in under the eyes and in the hollows of her cheekbones. She had aged.
    Dana went over and gently kissed her on her frail seeming cheek before finding the armchair by the couch to sit in. She avoided looking in David’s direction, being painfully aware of his silent wariness and unspoken dislike. She was also overwhelmed in the simple awareness of pain, for Mrs. Cessler always seemed to be suffering some discomfort. She determinedly ignored it as best she could. If the older lady could be silent and uncomplaining, then so could she. These visits were always very hard on Dana, but she knew how delighted Mrs. Cessler was to see her and how much it meant to her. So she gritted her teeth and came anyway.
    “Dana, my dear!” Mrs. Cessler said brightly, settling back on to her pillows and smiling. “It’s always so good to see you. But you aren’t looking well, child. You’ve lost so much weight! You and David, I can see, have much in common. Have you met David?”
    “Yes, we’ve met,” she murmured, not quite understanding everything Mrs. Cessler had said. She didn’t glance his way and leaned forward in an effort to get control of the conversation. “And how are you doing? You’re looking better every time I see you.”
    “Nonsense!” the older lady snorted, and a twinge from her still tender side made Dana wince. Her eyes caught David Raymond’s quick glance, and then slid away. She tried not to think of what had happened the day before. She wondered what he thought of it, and her. She knew that he didn’t trust her; this distrust came through as clearly as his dislike of her. She didn’t really understand why, unless it had something to do with the strange picture she’d drawn and he had recognised. What had she drawn? Why would it make him react so violently? She focused on what the older lady was saying to her. “…and it’s been such a comfort to know that he is taking care of my house instead of some stranger. I know that David will keep things well taken care of.” And she smiled at him fondly.
    Dana nodded, unsurprised. “I was wondering how you’d managed to rent the house so soon after your accident.” She addressed David personally. “Are you two related, then?”
    As he nodded, still watching her from under lowered, heavy brows, Mrs. Cessler answered verbally, “Yes, dear. He’s my cousin’s grandson. I don’t believe that you have met that side of my family.” Dana shook her head.
    After talking for a few more minutes, she then sought the opportunity to leave, but Mrs. Cessler would have none of it. She listened, resigned, as the older woman extolled her to stay and perhaps fix them all some fresh coffee. After a few demurs, with David in his corner staying absolutely silent, Dana finally gave in when she saw that the other woman was just not willing to let her go