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A very sensible decision, but one which surely did not necessitate four changes of clothes and a bedroom strewn with discarded, rejected outfits before Dee was finally ready to set out for Lexminster—over an hour later than she had originally planned.
Even so, it had been worth taking time and trouble with her appearance, she told herself stoutly as she climbed into her car. Her father had been of the old school, and had firmly believed in the importance of creating the right impression, and in taking time over her clothes she was just acting on those beliefs, Dee assured herself.
The cream dress she was wearing was simple, and the long slits which ran down both sides made it easy to move in without being in any way provocative—at least that was what Dee thought. A man, though, could have told her that there was something quite definitely very deliciously alluring about the discreetly subtle flash of long leg that her skirt revealed when she walked.
Its boat-shaped neckline was sensible—even if, regrettably, it did have an annoying tendency to slide down off one shoulder occasionally—and the little suedette pumps she was wearing with it were similarly ‘sensible.’ The pretty gold earrings had been a present from her father, and were therefore of sentimental importance, and if she had dashed back into the house just to add a spray of her favourite perfume and check her lipstick—so what?
As Dee drove through the town centre she noticed a small group of teenage boys standing aimlessly in the square, and she started to frown. She knew from the headmaster of the local school, who was on the board of one of her charities, that they were experiencing a growing problem with truancy amongst some of the teenage children.
Ted Richards felt, like her, that the town’s teenagers needed a healthy outlet for their energies and, perhaps even more importantly, that they needed to have their growing maturity recognised and to feel that they were a valued part of their own community.
In contrast to the disquieting boredom Dee had recognised in the slouched shoulders and aimless scuffling of the youngsters, when she drove past her own offices the area outside it was busy, with the town’s senior citizens making use of the comfortable facilities of the coffee shop and meeting rooms on the ground floor of the building. Only the other morning, as she had walked through the coffee shop, she had noticed that the list pinned up on the noticeboard inviting people to join one of the several trips that were being planned was very fully subscribed.
Teenagers did not always take too enthusiastically to being over-organised, especially by adults. Dee knew that, but she was still very conscious of the fact that their welfare and their happiness was an area which needed an awful lot of input.
Anna’s husband, Ward, had certainly opened her eyes and inspired her in that regard. Perhaps it might be worthwhile asking Ward if he would show Peter round his own workshops, Dee mused as she left the town behind her—always providing, of course, that Peter was well enough for such an outing.
Peter had a very special place in Dee’s heart. She never found it boring listening to his stories of his young manhood, especially when those stories involved her own father.
It was lunchtime when Dee reached Lexminster. In addition to the file she was compiling containing her plans for Rye’s teenagers, she had also placed in the boot of her car one of her home-made pies, which were a special favourite of Peter’s, as well as some other food.
She had a key for Peter’s house, but, out of habit, she automatically knocked on the door first and then, when there was no response, fished the key out of her bag and let herself in, calling out a little anxiously as she stepped into the hallway,
‘Peter, it’s me—Dee.’
She was just about to head for the kitchen with her groceries when, unexpectedly, the kitchen door opened. But it wasn’t Peter who opened it, and as she saw Hugo frowning at her Dee’s heart gave a dangerous flurried series of painful little thuds.
‘Oh...’ Dee’s hand went protectively to her throat. ‘I didn’t... You...’
‘I heard you knock but I was on the phone,’ Hugo told her curtly before adding, ‘Peter’s asleep. The doctor was anxious that he should have some proper rest, so she has given him a shot of something to help him sleep.’ He frowned as he looked at her disapprovingly. ‘I just hope that you haven’t woken him.’
To her chagrin his criticism made Dee feel as awkward and guilty as a little girl, causing her to retaliate defensively, ‘Was it really necessary or wise of the doctor to drug him?’
‘Drug him...what exactly are you implying?’
‘I’m not implying anything,’ Dee denied. ‘But at Peter’s age, the fact—’
‘Jane is a qualified doctor, Dee, and if she thinks that some mild form of gentle sedation is called for...’
Dee’s heart twisted betrayingly over Hugo’s intimate use of the doctor’s Christian name, and the way his voice had softened noticeably as he spoke it.
‘I actually needed to talk to Peter,’ she announced, deliberately changing the subject. ‘But if he’s been sedated...’
‘You needed to talk to him? So this isn’t just a social visit to enquire after his health, then.’ Hugo pounced.
‘I am concerned about his health, of course...’
‘But obviously not concerned enough to have called in a doctor,’ Hugo pointed out dryly.
Dee could feel her face starting to burn with a mixture of guilt and anger.
‘I would have done so, but, as I explained yesterday, I haven’t—’
‘Had time. Yes, I know. What was it you needed to talk to Peter about?’
Dee looked sharply at him. There was no way she could bring herself to enlist Hugo’s aid whilst he was being so antagonistic towards her.
‘I rather think that that is Peter’s and my business, don’t you?’ she asked him coolly.
