Chapter 19

Lottë was first into the kitchen the following morning as was her wont. She prepared and had breakfast and then went and dressed afterwards. It had been a late night and the hour she had spent with Daphne had not helped. Nor did Robin's arrival fully dressed.

"'New every morning is the love our wakening and uprising proof... '" he sang coming up behind Lottë and enveloping her in a hug.

Lottë was about to tell him to shut up but then his irresistible joy got through to her. She turned in his arms.

"Too late," she smiled up at him.

"For what?"

"Uprising proof of our love."

"Oh, my darling Lottë!" he laughed, "but I do love you, to bits."

"Wouldn't you prefer me whole?"

That set them off again. Lottë's lack of energy vanished.

"Thank you, Uncle Rob. You've bonked my Monday morning blues on the head."

"Were you feeling blue?"

"Not really. Just a bit short of sleep."

"Did it take long?"

"Only about an hour."

"Success?"

"I hope so. I'll tell you while we walk across the bridge."

"OK."

They were in the middle of breakfast when Daphne came in.

"Hi!" she said. "I could have gone on sleeping but I had to come and say thank you to both of you before you went off to work."

She bent over Robin's shoulder and, putting her arms round him, kissed him warmly on the cheek.

Robin's arm snaked round her waist and pulled her closer.

"Thanks, Daddy, for being there."

"Always, sweety."

She smiled at him, tears in her eyes. "Special Dad. Very special Dad."

She went over to Lottë and held out her hands which Lottë took.

"Thanks, Lots," she said simply. "I..." She shook her head.

Lottë said nothing just smiled and squeezed her hands.

Daphne looked at her and then silently hurried back to her room.

Robin looked questioningly at Lottë.

"I touched some raw nerves last night," she said quietly. "I think or at least I hope that I pointed her in the right direction but it must still be painful for her. Tell you later."

Lottë told Robin of her conversation with Daphne as they walked across to Cannon Street. They stopped in their usual place and Robin took her other hand.

"Thank you," he said. "I'd never have been able to deal with that on my own. You are a very special person, so loving and understanding. I'm so lucky."

Lottë's smile was brilliant. "No, my silly old Uncle Robin, deserving. You deserve to be loved and one of these days I'll tell you why in detail."

"Lottë, I love you."

"Same to you, old codger." Her arms went round his neck and she kissed him soundly. To Hell with passers-by.

The first thing that Lottë did when she got to her office and had made sure that there were no panics was to ring Andrea. She told her what had happened to Daphne.

"One of the big things is to restore her confidence," she said. "The trouble is that Uncle Robin and I don't know anyone other than people at work. I was wondering if you two could include her in one or two parties or whatever."

"Of course we will. We don't actually go out that much and most of our friends are married. Leave it with me though. Why don't we for starters all go out to dinner together on Friday? That way we'll get to know that she's living with you and any invitations will appear natural and not contrived."

"Brilliant! Just to make it more uncontrived why don't you ring us tomorrow evening and we can just casually mention that she'll be with us?"

"Good thinking, Lottë."

Robin rang Henry to tell him the news and to get his views on pressing charges against Larry.

"I'd advise against it, Robin. As he doesn't know where Daphne is he can't bother her. His counsel would be foul to her and I suggest she's had enough misery already and he would add to the guilt that she's already feeling. I'd let it die even though if we had the chance I'd readily help you wring his neck."

Robin laughed. "Thanks, Henry," he said. "I'll drop it. Many thanks to both of you for what was otherwise a thoroughly enjoyable weekend. I've no doubt that Lottë will be on the phone to Matty this evening."

Daphne was busy too. She rang her research line manager at Bath and told him that she would not be back due to personal problems. He was sad but wished her luck. She rang her tutor and told her the same but adding that she intended to pursue her Master's in London. Her tutor promised to speak for her to whoever when she had decided on where to go. She also rang administration and her landlord.

She then searched the internet. She was attracted by Holloway but did not want to be on her own in Surrey. She had realised that she suddenly needed the close support of her family, Robin in particular and therefore Lottë. Bea would be sweet and loving but effectively useless. In the end she plumped for Birkbeck, part of the University of London and situated at Bloomsbury. In addition to the Master's degree they had a fascinating list of research projects including microbiological ones which tied in to some extent with what she had been doing at Bath and at Porton Down. She arranged a preliminary interview for Thursday at ten o'clock.

When Robin and Lottë arrived home she was her usual cheerful self again to all outward appearances. They both praised her but did not make a meal of it. She was just sucked up into their normal ritual and was happy despite a slight jealousy of their love for each other. It was something they could not hide.

Friday evening was a success. Andrea decided against going out. She and Christopher had not had Robin and Lottë round to their flat and she reckoned it was high time they did. It was a very good meal and they all enjoyed getting to know Andrea better, especially Daphne who had only met her at the wedding. Little was said of Daphne's trouble, merely that she had parted from a boyfriend and that it was better that she left Bath.

In any case, Daphne was bubbling. She had been accepted by Birkbeck both to continue to read for her Master's and also to do research which meant she would be paid. She had met her new tutor who had instantly agreed to talk to her tutor at Bath. She was to start on Monday even though term had already started.

Robin's decree absolute came through and they announced their engagement in the papers. Robin took that as his cue to talk to his boss about his future. They had known each other for years and were friends, not that Robin had ever met Rupert Rockingham's wife.

"Well, Robin, I suppose I can now officially congratulate you on your engagement."

Robin smiled delightedly. "And that's why I'm here," he said, "to look into the future with you."

"Go on."

"We'll be getting married in September and plan to start a family fairly soon afterwards. I don't want to be in my dotage when the children are in their teens. Lottë and I don't want to bring them up in London so we'll be looking for a house somewhere on the Wiltshire-Gloucestershire borders. Despite having a burgeoning career as an art critic, Lottë is quite clear that she will resign but hope to get some freelance work. Now, I could go back to commuting like I used to but living within twenty minutes' walking time from here for the past eighteen months has rather knocked the gilt of that particular gingerbread."