"Hello, Miss Orton," smiled Mrs Dale, a little tiredly, as she opened Locksley's front door. "What can we do for you?"

"Here to see Sir Anthony, Mrs Dale - just for five minutes. Is he about?"

Sounding slightly breathless, Mrs Dale replied, "Yes. Just through in the library. Tea, Miss Orton."

Veronica waved her hand in the negative, and strode towards the library passage. "No. Thanks, Mrs Dale!"

Outside the library door, Veronica paused; inside, she could hear Sir Anthony's voice - lowered as if he were having a private conversation, but still just about audible to someone with sharp ears. "Yes, I know, old chap - you're missing her, too. Seems a little unfair, doesn't it? At least you could have gone with her."

Veronica frowned, and nudged the door open just enough to see Sir Anthony. He sat in his usual chair, addressing, of all creatures, Buttons, who was curled up on his shoulder. "Still," Sir Anthony sniffed, "mustn't dwell on it, must we? I'm sure she thinks about you all the time - she must do, she asked Pip in her last letter how you were. I think I might have it somewhere here…"

Veronica saw him rummage for a moment on the desk, and then lift the letter. "Here… 'I hope Buttons is well and catching lots of mice for Mrs Cox. I miss him - and you - so very much, but I know I have left him in the best possible hands, especially since one of the teachers here has a dog whose favourite hobby is chasing cats!'" Sir Anthony scritched Buttons' neck. "So what do you think of that, then, young man? Perhaps we could send a photograph of you to her. You and Pip. She'd like that."

He sighed and Veronica saw him swipe roughly at his eyes with a handkerchief. She had seen enough. Knocking at the door, she swung it fully open and entered, hailing him loudly and cheerfully as she did so with, "Goodness, that cat has an Anthony on him!"

Her host shot her a soft, almost grudging smile and lifted Buttons down from his shoulder. "Hello, Veronica, what can we do for you? Have you been offered tea?"

Veronica waved him off and sank down into the sofa. "Oh, I'm only on a flying visit. Besides, didn't want to put Mrs Dale to any trouble - she's looking a trifle peaky, isn't she?"

Anthony lifted his eyebrows wryly. "Try saying that in her hearing, and you'll soon know about it, I promise."

Veronica huffed out a laugh. "I wouldn't dare, Anthony. Anyway, Flora and I are going down to Somerset at the weekend, and we wondered if there was anything we could take down to Edith." Anthony's expression of polite interest did not change, but Veronica noted that for a moment, his left eyelid flickered and twitched. "Messages," she piffled on lightly, "any belongings she left behind, books, notes… you know the sort of thing I mean."

"Y-yes. Of course. I was actually… thinking of sending a picture of Pip to her. He's shot up, even in the last month or so. And I'm sure there are some other odds and ends around here…" He glanced vaguely, helplessly, around him and then sighed. "I'll check with Mrs Dale and Mrs Cox. But… yes, that would be helpful."

Veronica stood up, brushing out her breeches. "Excellent. I'll pop back on Friday evening, shall I? About six? Now, must be off - I think we've someone or other important coming to lunch, and Flora will have my hide if I'm late."

Anthony gave a sad smile. "You seem to be… quite the team, these days."

Veronica squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry about Edith. I honestly didn't expect her to… to go."

He shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault apart from my own."

"You're a decent chap, Anthony," Veronica said, seriously. "And you know there's not many men I'd say that about." A faint, momentary smile curled her lips. "You're always welcome to Orton Park. If there's ever anything we can do…"

They shook hands, very formally. "Thank you, Veronica. We'll see you on Friday."

"Is everything ready, Mrs Crawley?" Dr Robinson joined Edith on the front steps. Already, cars were beginning to trundle down the long drive.

Edith, shading her eyes with one hand from the sharp winter sunlight, glanced down at the clipboard in her other arm, and nodded. "I think so, Dr Robinson. The prefects are going to take small groups on tours of the new Mathematics block after your Welcome Speech." She lifted a wry eyebrow. "Dr Lewis and some of the sixth form Chemistry students are ready for demonstrations in the lab. The refreshments will be in the Dining Room from twelve o'clock onwards - a buffet, as requested, and afternoon tea later. Mr Piggett has driven the omnibus down to the station to collect visitors arriving by train, and his son is ready to show people where to park their cars - although, I don't imagine there will be very many of those…"

"In short," Dr Robinson interrupted with a thin, pleased smile, "you have everything completely in hand, and I should stop asking such thoroughly ridiculous questions. Really, you are a godsend, my dear."

Edith blushed. "Thank you, Dr Robinson. That's very kind of you."

"Miss Crawley?" Head Girl Eliza Barry hopped up the steps, her springy dark curls already escaping from her hair ribbon. "Oh, sorry, Dr Robinson."

"Not at all, Eliza."

"Miss Crawley, Sophia Waters has just been sick - I sent Fiona to find Matron, but we don't have anyone else to take her place as a tour guide - "

Edith slid a reassuring arm around her shoulders and they descended the steps together. "All right. Find me the most reliable fifth former you can, Eliza - doesn't matter if they aren't a prefect, we'll do the best we can…"

Dr Robinson watched the two walk away, her face creased in concentration. Hmm. I suppose I need to accept the fact that it's time for Marjorie to retire. Thirty years' here, twenty as Bursar… that's enough for anyone, one would have thought. Well, Miss Crawley will be a good replacement - if only we can stop her from being so sad and serious, all of the time…

"Flora! Veronica!" Edith squeaked in pleased surprise as her friends threw their arms around her, hugging her so tightly that she was nearly lifted from the floor. "Even when we had your reply, I wasn't entirely sure you'd come, somehow."

Veronica grinned. "Flora insisted, and I wasn't about to argue. Dr. R.'s going to get a hundred pounds' worth of lacrosse sticks out of us."

Edith raised her eyebrows. "Heavens!" Looking at Flora, she asked, dryly, "Whatever have you been feeding her on, Flora?"

Flora smiled. "Common sense, Edith. How are you?"

Edith's smile faltered momentarily, like the sun gone behind a cloud, and then reappeared before Veronica or Flora had had time to miss it. "Fine. Busy! I don't think I've slept properly in a month, what with all the organising. Come in, you're just in time for Dr Robinson's speech."

"Oh, goody," Veronica rolled her eyes.

"Before we forget," Flora added, as they turned to walk inside the school, "we've brought some things from Locksley." Helpfully, Veronica held up a basket.

Edith raised her eyebrows. "Oh. Really? I… I didn't think I'd left anything behind in - in Yorkshire."

Veronica nudged aside the cloth covering the basket. "Umm… a note and photograph from Pip, a couple of books - I think Mrs Cox has sent some cake…"

She pressed the basket into Edith's hands; almost unwillingly, Edith took it. "Thank you."

"Any return message, miss?" teased Veronica.

Edith forced a faint smile. "No, I don't think so. I… owe Pip a letter, anyway. There's no need to trouble yourselves. But… this was very kind of you."

"Ah, Miss Orton!" Dr Robinson's rather stern voice carried across the atrium. "Keeping the habit of a lifetime, I see."

Veronica rolled her eyes at Flora and Edith. "Hello, Dr Robinson. Wouldn't be a proper assembly if I weren't late for it, now, would it?"

Dr Robinson chuckled. "No, I don't suppose that it would be."

As Veronica and Dr Robinson entered into further conversation, Edith touched Flora's arm. "I'm just going to slip upstairs and put this away in my room."

"I'll come with you, if I may," Flora replied. "V won't notice I'm gone for the moment. After all the fuss she made about coming, and now she's here…" She shook her head fondly. "Anyway, I want to hear all your news."

Edith shrugged. "There isn't much to tell. I've been working. Found a few nice walks. Been swimming an awful lot - the sea's gorgeous."

"At this time of year?" Flora squeaked as they walked upstairs. "Edith Crawley, you must be made of coconut-matting!"

Edith unlocked her bedroom door and stood back to admit Flora, who went straight to the little garrett window and looked out. "Nice view of the sea here, though."

"Mmm, isn't it? On a clear day, you can see all along the coast." Edith set the basket down on the desk and started to empty it.

"I think it's quite as pretty as Yorkshire, in fact," Flora sighed. When Edith did not reply, she glanced around and found her friend staring at a leather-bound book she had just lifted from the basket. "Edie? Darling, what is it?"

Edith looked up at her, eyes full with tears, which she hastily swiped away. "Nothing. Sherlock Holmes." Shaking herself, she put the book back into the basket. "It's a mistake, that's all. Mrs Dale's got confused. I borrowed it from - from Locksley's library, once, and she's got it into her head that it's mine."

Flora frowned. "I don't think that's the case. Veronica said Sir Anthony packed all the books himself. He'd know what was his, wouldn't he?"

"Yes," Edith said, a little crossly. "He would. Can you take it back for me?"

Flora sighed. "A bit churlish, isn't it? If he intended it as a gift - "

"I don't want anything from Anthony Strallan!" Edith snapped. "I… I just want to forget that I ever knew him!"

For a moment, there was silence and then Flora shrugged. "I'm sure you know best, my dear," she said complacently. "But I will say that… there was a time when I felt that way about Veronica. As if I never wanted to even hear her name again, let alone have any reminder of her around me."

Edith snorted. "It's entirely different. Veronica wasn't going around… seducing other women behind your back."

Flora blinked. "Well… nor was Sir Anthony, was he?"

Edith was red, with anger or embarrassment Flora could not tell. All she said, however, was, "Come along, Flora. We'll miss the speeches if we don't hurry - and you can't leave Veronica to Dr Robinson's mercy for too much longer now, can you?"

"No," Flora replied, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. "I suppose we can't."

"Get anything out of her?" Veronica asked in an undertone as Flora slid into the hard wooden chair next to her, right at the back of the assembly hall.

Flora pursed her lips and shook her head tightly. "She's perfectly miserable, darling, and extremely angry with Anthony. I do wish he hadn't sent that book - it's rubbed her up completely the wrong way."

Veronica grimaced. "Well, we always knew he could be a dolt. Are we going to say anything to her?"

Again, Flora shook her head. "No. Best not. She won't have any sympathy with him - and I don't want her to feel that we're taking sides. I want her to be able to come to us if anything's wrong."

Veronica exhaled. "All right. Probably the sensible course of action, love."

Flora flashed her a slight smile. "Good. Then that's settled." She squeezed Veronica's hand. "We'll have a lovely afternoon with Edith, try and jolly her along a bit." She shifted uncomfortably on the chair. "No wonder you used to be late to assemblies all the time, my dear. No one would sign up for more time spent on these than absolutely necessary."

Veronica stifled a snort of laughter. "Oh, darling, it was much worse than this. Can you believe that they actually used to have us all sitting cross-legged on the floor? I'm sure Dr Robinson's a sadist at heart…"

"It was so lovely to see you," Edith smiled, giving Veronica and Flora one last hug each. "And thank you so much for your donation - it's terribly generous."

"Shame," Veronica replied mischievously, "we were trying to be terribly subversive."

"Safe journey back," Edith waved as Veronica put the car into gear and pulled away. The late evening breeze tugged at her hair and she wrapped her cardigan more tightly around her, shivering a little. When she got back to her room, she thought, she would curl up with a slice of Mrs Cox's fruitcake, and a nice cup of tea, and a good book.

Book.

The Holmes was still lying on her desk.

Edith raised her hand, and took a couple of quick steps forwards, opening her mouth to hail Veronica, make her come back, and take the blasted thing away with her - but then, as quickly as it had come, the impulse died away again.

Her hand fell slowly back to her side and Edith turned and walked back up the steps and into Rutherford House's cavernous entrance hall.