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guess what,' she continued.
    'Some of the Crighton clan are booked in for dinner tonight so I shall get a first-hand view of the "enemy.
    'I've told you before, you've only heard one side of the story,' her father reminded her forthrightly.
    'I don't care. If only half what Grandmamma Tania has told me is true then they treated her abominably.'
    On the other end of the telephone line Richard Lanyon suppressed a rueful sigh. His daughter was very much inclined to champion lost causes and underdogs and he just hoped that life wouldn't strip her of too many of her ideals and illusions.
    Privately he considered his father's second wife to be an almost naively childlike but totally selfish woman. His father adored her and protected her but he sometimes found her irritating and exasperating.
    'Well, I'd caution you against trying to slay too many dragons,' he warned Sara drolly now.
    'I won't,' she agreed. 'But it's time someone took the Crightons down a peg or two. Enjoy your holiday,'
    she added warmly.
    Her father was an architect and he and her mother owned a villa on a luxury complex in the Caribbean which he had helped to design. Sara knew she could have gone with them and enjoyed a long holiday at their expense but she had too much pride and independence to do so. She had chosen teaching as her career because she wanted to help others and in her book the gift of education was one of the most precious that could be given; but the realities of modern day teaching were eroding her ideals and dreams.
    Now, she was dauntingly aware that she was having second thoughts about her professional future. A short spell of working here in Haslewich would give her time to think through her options—as well as taking up cudgels on behalf of Grandmamma Tania?
    Sara wasn't going to deny that she felt that the Crightons had treated Tania badly despite what her father had said.
    Having put away her few belongings in the pleasant accommodation Frances Sorter had shown her, Sara made her way back to the restaurant where Frances greeted her arrival with a warm smile.

    'We wouldn't normally expect you to work in the evening,' Frances told her, 'but if you were prepared to make a start now...'
    'I'd be glad to,' Sara told her and meant it, grimacing as her stomach suddenly gave an embarrass-ingly loud rumble.
    'Oh, good heavens, you must be starving,' Frances exclaimed. 'Normally staff meals are eaten when we've finished serving but I can arrange for something to be sent into the office for you.'
    'A sandwich would be fine,' Sara told her.
    'A sandwich!' Frances looked horrified. 'This is an award-winning restaurant,' she told Sara mock primly, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
    'How do you feel about chargrilled vegetables and wild salmon?'
    'I'm in love with it already,' Sara told her solemnly, her eyes full of laughter. She was going to enjoy working here. Frances had a good sense of humour even if she was slightly frazzled at the moment.
    Nearly an hour later Sara grimaced as she took her eyes off the computer screen to take a final mouthful of the delicious meal she had been served. She had become so engrossed in what she was doing her food had gone cold—not that she was still hungry! The more than generous portion she had been served would easily have satisfied two people.
    She frowned as the computer refused to give her the information she needed to complete the task she was working on. She would need to have a word with Frances about this.
    Getting up she opened the office door and walked down the short corridor that separated it from the restaurant, hesitandy going inside.
    Frances had told her that she was 'fronting' the restaurant tonight but Sara couldn't see her anywhere.
    The restaurant was very busy, every table taken.
    'BOBBIE RANG me earlier,' Tullah told Saul as the waiter filled their wine glasses.
    'Livvy's back but Caspar hasn't come with her.
    He's staying on in America and according to Livvy the marriage