Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You really didn’t have to do this, Mrs Beecham,” Claire said on the doorstep. She was clutching a rather large bouquet of flowers that Thomas had thrust at her as soon as the front door opened.

“It’s the least we could do for being so generous,” Maureen said. “Though, perhaps you could’ve waited until Claire had stepped in through the door, Thomas.”

Beatrice stood looking at Claire from the kitchen. There was no doubt in her mind that the TV presenter was beautiful. She wore a wine red, fitted dress that stopped just above her knees and a cream shawl covered her shoulders which matched the colour of her high-heeled shoes. Around her pale, slim neck was a delicate gold necklace that ended in a teardrop pendant.

Claire’s eyes found Beatrice and she gave out a warm smile. “You must be Tom’s sister,” she said. “He’s told me a lot about you.”

Beatrice returned the smile. “Well, I guess you’ll have to make up your own mind,” she said, hoping it didn’t come across