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fine,’ he said again, and then, to change the subject because he had hated it when people asked him about his exams, said, ‘How does your father feel about you going away?’ He didn’t know Gemma’s father well, except that he was seriously scary and very protective of his only child.
    Gemma pulled a face. ‘He’s not keen. He says he’s pleased and it would have been what Mum would have wanted, but really he’d prefer it if I just stayed at home. But I can’t do that for ever, can I?’ She looked at him beseechingly.
    â€˜No, of course not. Everyone has to branch out.’
    â€˜Exactly. That’s why I got him to agree to this waitressing job; it’s good for him to see me being a bit independent. And look, here’s the bus. Thank goodness, I’d almost given up.’
    Anthony had forgotten all about the bus. He watched it draw up with disapproval. He had been really enjoying talking to Gemma.
    â€˜Are you coming?’ she asked as she climbed on board.
    â€˜No. I, er, I’ve just remembered something I’ve got to do.’
    Anthony raised a hand in a casual farewell and turned for home. It was time he did something to sort out his finances, it was ridiculous not even being able to afford a bus fare. And he had just remembered Dad was due home from hospital that afternoon, probably a good idea if he showed his face.
    Rachel and her mother had worked hard to make the house perfect for John Collington’s homecoming. They set off immediately after lunch on the Monday to collect him, taking her mother’s car as it was more spacious for the invalid. There was no room for Anthony as well, but Rachel had hoped he might be there to welcome them when they got back. He hadn’t visited their father in hospital since Rachel had taken over his chauffeuring duties.
    â€˜Welcome home dear,’ said her mother as her father gently eased himself out of the car. ‘It’s wonderful to have you back. You see how Rachel has looked after the hanging baskets for you and tidied your raised beds?’ She was still chattering excitedly as she led the way inside, trying simultaneously to manage her own walking stick and help her husband with his crutches.
    â€˜Let me do that,’ said Rachel, hiding a smile at the muddle they were getting themselves into. ‘Mind the step, Dad. Did the physio show you how to get up steps?’
    â€˜She did, although I think I could do with a bit of practice.’ Her father sounded a little breathless and was pleased to lower himself into his favourite armchair as soon as they reached the kitchen.
    â€˜A cup of tea?’ said his wife solicitously. ‘I wonder where Anthony is, I thought he would have appeared by now.’
    â€˜He must have gone out for a walk,’ said Rachel, somewhat baffled. Anthony wasn’t the sort to go for walks voluntarily. And if he had, he could at least have taken one or two of the dogs with him, but a quick glance out of the window showed her that all were in their runs.
    â€˜It is good to be home,’ said her father. For the first time since she had returned he looked genuinely relaxed. Although a little short of hair, her father usually looked younger than his years he was so active and cheery. The fall and the hospital stay had taken away his normal colour and brought a few more lines to his face. Now these almost disappeared as he gave a huge smile. ‘I’ll be back on my feet in no time with you two to look after me.’
    â€˜We’ll make sure you’re not back on your feet until you’re ready,’ said Rachel firmly.
    â€˜Have some cake,’ said her mother, nodding her agreement. ‘Rachel made it for you. Coffee and walnut, it’s your favourite.’
    â€˜I can see I’m going to have to get used to being bossed around,’ said Mr Collington happily.
    Rachel heard a sound at the front door. She frowned. It