Still, now she could return to favour and be of some use.

‘I want you to come and hold the fort for me. Just for a weekend, Friday to Sunday.’

‘What? Are you and Douglas going away? How lovely. I should love to look after the children—’

‘Not Douglas. Me. An art weekend. I’ve arranged it.’

There was a stunned silence. Then: ‘Have you asked Douglas?’

‘Well—no, not yet. I thought I’d arrange everything first. It’s only a weekend after all. Tuition in a country house, with real artists. The lady was awfully helpful and I’m so looking forward to it. They make an assessment of your potential, see if you could possibly make a career out of it and so on. I mean I don’t want a career really, but I would like to know if I was any good. It would be something to do.’

‘He won’t like it, Sarah. Especially not artists, you know what he thinks of them. And personally I couldn’t agree more, very free-living types artists are. And they simply do not wash. If you must paint you’re better off at home with a book out of the library to help you, and there’s that programme on television, you could watch that, it’s bound to give you some ideas—’

Sarah sucked in her breath with annoyance. Why did her mother always think she was useless at things, that’s what she meant—don’t try, you’ll only make a mess of it.

‘Mother, you’re being ridiculous. All I want you to do is say you’ll come and keep house. The food’s all ready. Mrs Burton will come in, it’ll be easy. Please, Mother.’

There was a sigh and a pause. Then her mother said, Sarah, you know I will. But I’m sure it’s not a good idea. After all you know how cautious Douglas is, at least you ought to by this time. A very sensible sort of man I’ve always thought him. I don’t think he’ll let you go.’

Oh, for goodness sake, why does everyone behave as if I'm some kind of lapdog? I’m a grown woman and I can do as I like, provided I don’t let everyone down. And I’m not. Really.