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Everyone had a right to life, she believed that most passionately and intensely, and always had, but her belief had grown stronger and fiercer ever since she herself had come face to face with the realisation that her own life could end between the taking of one breath and the next, and despite the security of her cottage and the sheltered life-style she now lived, seeing only a few close friends, ad no one new to her circle until she felt co fear which had never really left her

It had been a good summer, but now they were into October, and the blue sky beyond herheld the clear pureness that warned of dropping te jeans and a thick woollen sweater, because, despite the fact that the rest of the cottage was centrally heated, she preferred to keep her workrooe the valuable antique tapestries she sometimes worked on at home

The cottage had a sharp, narrow flight of stairs which she preferred to keep polished in the old-fashioned way, a central runner kept in place with stair-rods—both the rods and the runner had been lucky finds at an antique fair The runner, once cleaned, had proved to have a strength of colour which ith the cottage’s oak stairs and floors

Only one or two of her prospective clients had ever remarked that surely modern fitted carpets would be both warmer and cleaner, and these clients had always proved to be the difficult ones—the ones to who that had newly become fashionable and who really had no true appreciation of its history and art

Downstairs she had a s her tiny front garden and beyond it the ood-sized kitchen-cu-room which she had furnished mainly with antiques picked up here and there from various sales

Only the kitchen cupboards were modern, and that was because the lack of space forced her to make the maximum use of every corner Solid oak and limed, they had been built by a local craftsed room

A scrubbed farmhouse table divided the kitchen area of the roo area She had retained the open fireplace, and alongside it against the as a comfortable sofa draped with a soft woollen blanket and covered with tapestry cushions

The stone floor arersamount of vibrant colour Those who had only met her outside her hoe colours of beige, olive and taupe, her home would echo these subtle but sometimes dull shades Instead, it was full of vibrant rich reds, blues, greens and golds put so harether that the surprised visitor ca exceptionally alive and war

No one was more aware of dichotomy between her habitat and her personal mode of dress than Jessica herself Once, as a child, she had pleaded with her mother to be allowed to have a rich ruby velvet dress She could see it in her mind’s eye now, feel the delicious warmth of the supple fabric, s her own distaste for the dress by gently pointing her in the direction of another one in irls ere going to grow up to run a merchant bank did not dress in rich ruby velvet

Now out of habit rather than anything else she still wore those saently dictated by her mother Not that clothes interested her anyway—not in the way that fabrics, colours and textures did Clothes were simply the means one used to protect one’s body from heat and cold…and, in her case, to provide her with the protection of anonymity

No one would look twice at a slender young woure, dressed in dull, practical clothes No one would pick her out as a target…a victim…

Her parents had never understood her decision to come and live and work in Avon They had pleaded with her to change her mind, but she had remained steadfast, and she had had the report of her doctor to back her up Peace and tranquillity, relief froather up her th—that hat he had advised

That had been five years ago Now her parents accepted, albeit reluctantly, that she lived a different life from theirs

Herto coax her back to London Every few , perhaps, for that all-irandson—but Jessica shied away froe involved She was free for the first time in her life, and that was the way she intended to stay Marriage s first…She didn’t want that

In her hall she picked up her parcel and let herself out into the sarden The sun arm, but the air cool once she stepped into the shadows She paused to admire the dwarf Michaelmas daisies she had plantedof purple, mauve and lilac pleased her and she bent to touch their petals gently Gardening was her second love, and she planted her garden in much the same way as she worked on her tapestries, but with the artist’s fine eye for colour and form

The post office was the only shop in the village; the nearest garage was ten miles away in the small market town, and the post office was very haossip and passed it on to her custoenial impartiality Jessica interested her It was unusual for so young and pretty a wole state down to a broken ro that it was this relationship which had led to her arrival in the village and to her single state

She was quite wrong

Jessica had never been in love Initially because there had never been tiree, terrified of disappointing her parents’ hopes for her, and then when she joined the bank everyone had known exactly who she was—the daughter of the bank’s chair people working there

And then, after what had happened, the last thing on her le state and was content with it, but soham always questioned her about her private life h the postmistress had uncovered a wound she hadn’t knoas there

Not that there was anything malicious in her questions She was just inquisitive, and over the years Jessica had learned to parry them with tact and diplomacy

Today she had the attention of the post for her parcel to be weighed when she felt the cold rush of air behind her as the door opened

The post to s, Mr Hayward! Are you all settled in yet?’

‘Not yet, I’m afraid’

The man had a deep, pleasant voice, and e

ven without looking at hi She had heard from the milkman about this newcomer who had moved into the once lovely, but now derelict Carolean house on the outskirts of the village, but so far she hadn’t actually met him

‘In fact, I ondering if you could helpthis young lady first’

The faint touch of reproof in his voice startled Jessica, giving the words far ood manners

She turned round instinctively and was confronted by a tall, ally male man, dressed in jeans similar to her own and a thick sweater over a woollen shirt, his dark hair flecked hat looked like spots of white paint, and a rather grim expression in his eyes

There was soested that he wasn’t the kind to suffer fools gladly All Jessica knew about hiht the house at auction, and that he was planning to virtually camp out in it while the builders worked to make it habitable

He had arrived in the village only that weekend, and had apparently been having most of his meals at the Bell, the local pub, because the kitchen up at the house was unusable

She had heard that he worked in London, and that being the case Jessica would have thought it would be more sensible of him to stay there at least until such time as his house was habitable

Mrs Gillingha up the situation with a skilled and speedy eye, quickly perfor Jessica no option but to take the hard brown hand extended to her and to respond to his quick ‘Please call esture

‘Jessica Collingwood…’ His eyebrows drew together briefly, as though so slightly, and then he was relaxing, releasing her and saying evenly, ‘Jessica—it suits you’

And yet Jessica had the impression that the flattery was an absent- her attention away from that momentary tense surprise that had leapt to his eyes as he’d repeated her name