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was raising her self-esteem and confirming her determination to work towards allowing Archie his freedom for charily work or to go sailing without any resentment on her part.
    How exhilarating it had been to discover that by giving Archie freedom from what might have been a crushing affection she'd become the recipient of an even deeper love. Over the years, as her confidence had grown, so a new measure of happiness had developed between them. It had come as a shock, after his death, to realize that she must now apply all that she'd learned to the new painful, lonely business of being a widow; accepting kindness and love without being choked by the insidious creeping tentacles of self-pity.
    Em went out through the garden room into the courtyard to see if it might be warm enough to have coffee in the garden – she knew how much Liv loved the sunshine – and decided that it would be. The little south-facing court, ringed by fields and sheltered from the chill breeze, was bright with tubs of daffodils and sweet-scented narcissi and the pretty flowers of the ‘Lady Clare’ camellia blooming on the tree by the wall.
    â€˜Ca mell ia,’ Archie had always cried impatiently. ‘It's pronounced ca mell ia. Not ca meel lia! How do you pronounce be l l? Bell. How do you pronounce mell? Me l l. Right, so it's camellia.’
    The whole family, impressed by his passion, had abided by his dictum.
    Em set out the French wrought-iron table and chairs, heard the car approaching and went swiftly inside and through the house to meet Liv. Standing at the top of the flight of steep stone steps, watching her getting out of the car, Em's heart gave a little painful tick: how like her mother, the young Julia, this beloved child was. How often Julia had come smiling up these steps, sometimes with Andy and Liv running ahead and Charlie astride her hip, or carrying some little offering as Liv did today.
    â€˜Hi, Aunt Em.’ Holding the cakes aside, Liv leaned to kiss the older woman. ‘What a magic day. Can we be outside?’
    â€˜We can indeed, my darling. Go on through. I'll switch the coffee on and be right with you.’
    As she decanted the cakes on to a plate, Em watched Liv as she stood for a moment in the sunny courtyard. Slender and supple, she lipped her face towards the sun, rising on her toes, stretching out her arms: the gesture reminded Em of some ancient ritual. Picking up the plate, she went out to her.
    â€˜So how is life at Penharrow this morning? Clearly not too busy.’
    Liv sat down. ‘I shouldn't really be here,’ she admitted. ‘But it was such a fantastic day I simply couldn't resist. I can always work on later if I need to.’
    Em nodded: she understood. From childhood onwards, the twins, Andy and Liv, had been subject to these mood swings; a sudden need to be outside in the sun and wind, free from constriction, would seize them. Frustrated by routine, easily bored, they'd conformed, up to a point, but still the wild adventuring spirit would come upon them, driving them on to new places or new jobs. Em could see that helping to get Penharrow up and running was exactly the kind of project that appealed to Liv: a new challenge, new ideas, new people to meet. All her energy was focused on it just as, at present, Andy's was concentrated on his rapidly expanding Internet company. However, Em knew how much Julia and Pete worried about the twins so she was always alert to any way in which she could encourage Liv and Andy towards the more conventional path whilst respecting their individualism and nurturing the particular essence of their creative spirits.
    â€˜Have you thought what you might do after Penharrow?’ she asked. ‘You've always given the impression that it's a shortterm project.’
    â€˜Well, it is.’ Liv settled comfortably, face to the sun, eyes closed. ‘I think they'll need me for a bit longer but, to be honest, I'm a kind of comfort zone