A Family Concern by Anthea Fraser

has. I’ve just had Daniel on the phone. As you know, they’ve been busy most weekends, then he was away on a couple of courses, so I still haven’t had a chance to tell them our news.’ She gave an apologetic little laugh. ‘It’s not something you can come out with on the phone.’
    â€˜He wants to see you?’
    â€˜Yes; they’ve invited me over for the weekend. It seems the ideal opportunity to put them in the picture; to be honest, I’ve been getting a little panicky about how far things were progressing without them knowing anything about it.’
    â€˜As you say, the perfect opportunity.’
    â€˜You don’t mind?’
    â€˜My darling, we’ll soon have every weekend together. Of course you must go.’
    â€˜I knew you’d understand,’ Catherine said gratefully.
    Max settled back in his seat, glanced out of the window at the rain-swept runway, and opened his newspaper. He was not looking forward to the next twenty-four hours. Deep down, he admitted he was fond enough of his family; it was just that he preferred them at a distance. His mother had died when he was thirteen, and Cynthia, five years his senior, had acted as stand-in till he left for art college. She had been, then as now, well intentioned but bossy, and he knew he’d not made things easy for her. And Father had always been an awkward so-and-so. Rona, with her own close-knit family, could never understand his keeping them at arm’s length.
    Suppose the old man really was ill, though? In the manner of most offspring, Max had subconsciously expected him to go on for ever. That there might come a time – sooner rather than later – when he wouldn’t be there, to contact or not as Max chose, was unsettling. Cynthia and Rona were right: he should make an effort to establish more regular contact. Though how his father would react to such an approach was, he acknowledged wryly, anyone’s guess.
    Cynthia was waiting at the airport, and as Max caught sight of her short, rounded figure, he felt a surge of affection for her. He put an arm round her and pulled her against him.
    â€˜Good to see you, Cyn.’
    â€˜You too, you old reprobate.’ As always her tone was brisk, but he felt the tightening of her arm as she returned his hug.
    â€˜How’s the old fella?’ Max asked, as he followed her to the car park.
    â€˜A bit wheezy, and still not eating enough to keep a sparrow alive.’
    â€˜He knows I’m coming?’
    â€˜Oh yes. He might have had a heart attack if you’d walked in unannounced.’
    Max grinned. ‘OK, don’t rub it in. So when are we seeing him?’
    â€˜I’ll drive you over after lunch.’ Cynthia stopped at a small Peugeot, opened the boot, and Max tossed his overnight bag inside.
    â€˜It’s not a question of “we”, though,’ she continued as they got into the car. ‘I’ll drop you off, but I’m not coming in. You two need time alone together.’
    Max was alarmed. ‘Oh, come on now, sis, that’s not fair!’
    â€˜What’s not fair,’ she retorted, ‘is your cutting yourself off for so long. It’s no use arguing, Max, it’s all settled. I’ll drop you off, as I said, then at five I’ll collect you both and bring Father back for dinner with us all.’
    â€˜Does “all” include the boys?’
    Cynthia and her husband had two strapping sons, Michael and David, who, in their teens, had rechristened themselves Mike and Dave.
    â€˜They sound like a comic double act,’ Cynthia had complained.
    â€˜Yes, they’re both living at home at the moment. Paul says we make things too comfortable for them; there’s no incentive to find a place of their own, especially since they’re both working in Tynecastle.’
    â€˜No sign of wedding bells?’
    Cynthia’s derisive snort was answer enough.
    Lindsey pushed