‘I cannot tell a lie,’ laughed Norah Finlay, wiping her floury hands on her apron. ‘I know how much you like them, love.’

Shea groaned. ‘To which my spreading hips will attest,’ she said as she sat down, reaching out for one of the still warm biscuits.

‘Spreading hips indeed,’ Norah scoffed. ‘I don’t hold with this modern fixation with being thin as a matchstick. It’s not natural. A woman should look like a woman.’

‘And I’m more womanly than most.’ Shea took another bite of her biscuit and murmured her enjoyment. ‘So much for my threatened diet.’

Norah tsked. ‘Forget about dieting. You’re just right the way you are, Shea Finlay, and I won’t hear a word that says you’re not.’

‘When you’re a twenty-eight-year-old matron...’ Shea began, and Norah laughed aloud.

‘Matron? For heaven’s sake. You’re an attractive young woman and I know I’m not the only one who thinks that.’

‘You’re prejudiced, Norah. But thanks anyway.’ Shea grinned. ‘Just don’t tell Niall I’ve had one of these or he’ll give me that long-suffering look of his that will quite rightly imply “do as I say, not as I do”.’

Norah chuckled. ‘He would at that.’ The oven timer dinged and she slipped on her oven mitt, turning to open the oven door.

‘Oh, no.’ Shea groaned again. ‘Not chocolate chip cookies, too. Have mercy, Norah.’

‘These are Niall’s favourites. And it’s your own fault.’ She glanced up at the kitchen clock. ‘If you hadn’t come home early I’d have had these all safely secreted away. And why are you home at this time? It’s not like you. Or is my clock wrong?’

‘No. I am early.’ Shea picked up a hot cookie and juggled it until it was cool enough to hold. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to eat this. I can feel a kilo settling on each thigh just from the smell.’

Norah laughed again. ‘So why are you playing hooky? I thought you were convinced that shop would fall down if you weren’t there to hold it up.’

‘Well, Debbie’s more than capable of closing up so I decided I’d take extra time to have dinner, shower and get ready for the meeting tonight.’ Shea pulled a face. ‘So you see I’m taking your advice and slowing down. I have been a bit tired lately and I know I’ve been pushing myself to get this new children’s range organised. So, before I get into negotiations over the new factory space, I’m giving myself this afternoon to catch my breath and relax a little.’

‘And about time.’ Norah slipped the used cooking trays into some soapy water to soak. ‘Is this the Progress Association meeting tonight?’

‘Mmmm. I suppose it will be the usual talking around in circles. I sometimes wonder why I bother to go but I suppose I should show some interest in the development of the area. I do make my living here.’ Shea shrugged good-naturedly and grinned. ‘I guess these meetings once a month are the price I have to pay.’

Norah laughed. ‘There’s that way of looking at it. But I have to agree that some of the members are a trifle long-winded.’

‘You’re being kind, Norah,’ Shea chuckled. ‘Sometimes I’m hard pressed to stay awake.’

‘And is David Aston going to pick you up and take you to the meeting again?’ Norah asked casually, and Shea nodded with equal nonchalance.

‘Yes. He kindly offered me a lift. He sort of goes past.’

‘He goes out of his way by three or four blocks,’ Norah said, and added shrewdly, ‘You know, I think that young man fancies you.’

‘Norah!’

‘Well, he does. And it’s only natural. I told you before, you’re a very attractive woman.’

‘I’m not interested in David Aston. Or anyone else for that matter.’

Norah gave a sceptical exclamation.

‘Oh, come on, Norah. David Aston’s years younger than I am.’

‘Two years younger and no more. That doesn’t exactly qualify you as a cradle snatcher.’

‘I’m not into that scene, Norah. You know that,’ Shea said softly, and her mother-in-law sighed.

‘It’s over four years since Jamie’s death, love. He was my son and I know how happy you made him. I also know he wouldn’t want you to lock yourself away from life.’

‘I know he wouldn’t, Norah. And I’m not really doing that.’ She shrugged a little wistfully. ‘I just don’t feel I’m ready to change that part of my life so drastically. Not yet anyway.’

‘Jamie, well, we all loved him and I know he’d want to see you happy.’ Norah paused. ‘But Niall’s growing up. Perhaps he needs a father.’

‘Niall’s doing all right. He has us and his teachers at school. Male and female, we’re all good role models. He’s OK as he is.’ Shea looked up at the older woman. ‘He is, isn’t he, Norah?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, he’s a fine young man. Although my opinion may not hold water when you consider I’m his doting grandmother,’ she added with a laugh, and Shea smiled.

‘I do sometimes look at him and wonder if I should take the accolades for having such a bright, well-adjusted son. Or if it’s just Niall’s innate good sense.’

‘A little of both, I’d say.’ Norah began to wash her baking dishes. ‘And if I was into that previous life stuff, I’d say young Niall Finlay had been here before.’

Shea picked up the tea towel and started to wipe the dishes.

‘Jamie would have been so proud of him,’ Norah added softly, and Shea let her gaze fall to the tray in her hands.

A tiny pain flickered in her chest, grew tentacles that clutched at her heart. ‘Yes,’ she agreed evenly, not meeting her mother-in-law’s eyes, and they continued to work side by side, each lost in her own thoughts until the silence was broken by the slam of the front screen door.

‘Gran. Mum. I’m home.’

Niall Finlay ran into the room and shrugged off his windcheater. His fair hair was standing on end and the wind had whipped colour into his cheeks.

‘Wow! It was so windy down by the beach it would blow dogs off chains.’ His hazel eyes widened appreciatively. ‘Cookies. Excellent, Gran. Can I have one?’

Shea exchanged a glance with Norah and grimaced. ‘One only,’ she acquiesced guiltily. ‘I don’t want you to spoil your dinner.’

‘No way. I could eat a horse and chase his rider,’ the young boy quipped as he took a bite of his biscuit.

‘I don’t know where you pick up all those colourful sayings,’ his mother commented and he grinned.

‘From Gran.’

‘So where have you been?’ Norah put in quickly to change the subject.

‘Riding my bike. Pete and I went down to the beach and around the place and guess what?’

His mother and his grandmother raised enquiring eyebrows.

‘Someone must be going to live in the big white house around the bay.’

Shea’s breath caught somewhere in her chest and she felt the warmth of colour rise in her face. For long moments she couldn’t bring herself to look at the older woman. When she did, she saw the concern in Norah’s eyes.

‘There’s a plumber’s ute and an electrician’s van and guys everywhere,’ Niall continued. ‘And they’ve started to paint the place. And guess what else? It’s not going to be white anymore. It’s sort of yellowy-cream. We won’t be able to call it the big white house now.’

‘That will be a pity,’ his mother replied carefully, and Niall nodded.

‘People are going to be all confused,’ he said in a voice of doom. ‘If you ask for directions around here they say, “Go down to the big white house and turn left” or “Don’t go as far as the big white house” and stuff like that.’

‘Yes. When you put it like that, it does sound as though we’ll all have to get used to the change,’ his grandmother agreed.

‘Well, how about your homework,’ Shea reminded her son and he went towards his room with a grumble, leaving behind a heavy silence in the kitchen.

‘This doesn’t mean anything,’ Norah said at last as Shea kept rubbing the tea towel over the already dry cookie tray.

‘No.’ Shea agreed quietly.

“The big white house has only been leased for short times on two or three occasions. And Joe Rosten himself hasn’t been near the place in over ten years. Why come back now? He’s most likely sold it.’