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website for me as a surprise Christmas present,’ I said, ‘all about my artwork and … but that’s not important. I can show it to you next time you’re round. The thing is, I’ve now got an email address and Tom spotted the site and sent me an email!’
    ‘What? You don’t mean
Tom Collinge
, Rosie’s probably-not father?’
    ‘Yes! Just to say hi, and how was I, and that he’s got friends up here so perhaps he might drop in some time!’
    She thought about it. ‘I suppose once you are on the Internet you are accessible to anyone who wants to look you up, and he sounds like he’s just being friendly and maybe a bit curious. You can discourage him gently.’
    ‘I can’t discourage him at all, because I deleted the email before Rosie or Mal saw it, and I’ve mislaid the printout.’
    ‘Then he’ll either contact you again and you can be politely chilly, or he’ll think you are a different Fran March and that will be that … and why are you humming “Surfin’ USA”?’
    ‘What? Oh, probably because Tom said he taught surfing.’
    ‘Surfing?’
    ‘Yes, sorry, I thought I’d said. He teaches art and surfing in Cornwall.’
    ‘Are you sure? It sounds an odd mixture.’
    ‘Almost sure … ’ I frowned. ‘But it’s not important, like the other thing I was going to tell you, which is
truly
shattering: Ma’s decided she’s getting a bit past all the driving and so she’s decided to sell Fairy Glen.’
    Nia froze with her glass suspended halfway to her lips, a fetching fuzz of froth adorning her upper lip.
    ‘Sell the glen? Do you mean just the cottage, or the whole thing?’
    ‘That’s what I said, but it’s the whole thing, of course.’
    ‘But she can’t! I mean, she’s had it since before you were born!’
    ‘She hasn’t actually done much to it, though,’ I pointed out. ‘It’s pretty basic, and she’s left the glen to run wild. And, if she’s going to sell one of her houses, she’s more comfortable in Cheshire with all her friends. She’s going to use some of the proceeds to go on a world cruise.’
    ‘She could give the Glen to you!’
    ‘But Mal and I have got a house already, a very nice house – and I’d like her to have fun with the money, go on a cruise or whatever she wants.’
    ‘Has she really thought about this? She does realise that she can’t come and stay with you and bring the dogs when Mal’s home? He’d vacuum them to death.’
    ‘I know, Rosie’s old dog had so many baths she used to hide at the sound of a tap running. But Ma could come when he was away, and I could go over to visit her. I mean, I don’t like the idea of this any more than you, Nia, but things have to change, I can see that.’
    Nia’s frown cleared a little. ‘The cottage is so rundown, it’s not exactly weekender material, is it? Maybe it won’t sell.’
    ‘Perhaps not, or it may not be worth much, because although there’s lots of land it’s mostly vertical, and the cottage is tiny really – it’s the opposite of the Tardis, because the outside looks much bigger than the inside. I’m going to arrange to have it valued for her, anyway, so we will see.’
    ‘If it won’t fetch much money she might change her mind,’ she said hopefully.
    ‘You know Ma once she makes her mind up about anything … but I’m certainly going to miss walking in the fairy glen once it’s sold.’
    ‘Me too, and I need access to the standing stones,’ Nia agreed, looking darkly brooding (not unusual; she often does), but she didn’t say why.
    ‘What’s your news?’ I asked to distract her, and she scowled.
    ‘The bad news is, my planning application for the workshop’s been turned down.’
    ‘Oh, Nia, I’m sorry!’
    Nia had taken over her old home now her parents had retired to Llandudno, and since her return had been making her exquisite porcelain jewellery in the old outhouse behind the cottage, while she waited for planning permission to rebuild it as a small studio. But now the