TWELVE
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Thirty minutes later, Kate, William Forbes and I sat comfortably in front of my glowing log fire as we sipped tea, and Kate devoured an unhealthy supply of chocolate chip cookies from my supply of biscuits. Forbes had graciously given up the spare bedroom and Kate’s case was swiftly unpacked, and her clothes hung in the wardrobe. I’d set up a camp bed in my office which Forbes assured me would suit him admirably.
Divested of her outerwear, Kate now sat in a warm but hugely oversized fisherman’s style sweater, (another loan from her friendly trawler skipper), and a pair of well-cut blue jeans that made her look somewhat less than her age. Slight of build and with black hair that showed only traces of grey, Kate resembled an archetypal granny, though one with a wi
