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unsuccessfully to reflect in the mullioned windows, made dull by the storms it had weathered over the last decade. Her heart skipped a beat. Today—for the first time—she would be entering the house. It would take much work to put it to rights, but the challenge was inviting. She hoped she would be successful in getting the job of interior designer. It was not exactly what she had been trained for, but with her eye for colour and design she could foresee no difficulties. She felt quite excited at the prospect and hurriedly washed and dressed and went downstairs where Gammy was already preparing breakfast, her unhappiness of last night temporarily forgotten.
    ‘I’m pleased to see you looking more cheerful this morning,’ greeted her aunt, then glancing at the girl’s trousers and shirt, ‘You’re not going for your interview dressed like that?’
    ‘Why not?’ Taryn looked down at her red trousers and white top. ‘I thought they looked rather elegant. They are new.’
    ‘Don’t you think a dress would be more suitable?’ Gammy still looked doubtful.
    ‘I feel comfortable in trousers,' returned Taryn. ‘Besides, they’re more practical.’
    ‘I don’t want you jeopardising your chances of this job. I know how much you’re looking forward to it.’
    ‘Really, Gammy,’ laughed Taryn, ‘I can’t see that it makes any difference what I wear. It’s my abilities the man’s interested in.’
    It seemed the whole village knew she was going for an interview this morning. As she walked past the row of stone cottages, each with their painted walls and thatched roofs, she received all sorts of well wishes. It was not until she saw Robert with young Rory in tow that she recalled her encounter of the previous day. Looking ahead towards the end of the valley she saw the helicopter still silhouetted against the skyline.
    Robert followed her line of vision. ‘I hear that you too have met our mysterious visitor?’ As fair as his sister and with the same blue eyes, he looked at her in amusement.
    'How do you know?’ she asked quickly.
    ‘Gammy was at Gran’s last night, and I heard her say that you’d met a man you thought was Mark. Say, Sis, was it really him? I’ve been dying to meet him. I want to see if he lives up to my impression of a fashion designer.’
    ‘And what might that be, pray?’ lifting her chin and trying to look dignified.
    ‘You know—like this,’ and he affected an exaggerated walk with his hand on his hip, turning back to look at her. ‘How am I doing?’
    She was forced to laugh. ‘You’re impossible, Rob! If you must know he was nothing like that. He has a marvellous physique, more like an athlete than anything else. We’d have made a great team, had things been different.’
    ‘You never told me what really happened. All I know is that you came home looking as though the world had crashed about your ears.’
    ‘I still prefer not to discuss it,’ said Taryn quietly. ‘Yesterday I might have done, but now—it’s all so real again.’
    ‘And you think this fellow,’ looking again towards the aircraft, ‘might be Mark? Gammy said that perhaps he’d lost his memory, but if he had he’s hardly likely to come here. No one’s ever heard of Ferndale. It's not even on the map. It's too much of a coincidence.'
    'My feelings exactly, sighed Taryn, 'but if it's not him, who is it?' The similarity is frightening.'
    She looked so upset that he put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a comforting hug. 'Don't worry, sis, big brother will look after you. I must scoot now or Rory will be late for school. Best of luck with the interview. Let me know how you get on.'
    Taryn had intended walking along the road that led out of the valley and back across the hill to Dale End, but her talk with Robert had held her up. Unless she wanted to be late she would have to scramble up the hillside. She crossed the tiny bridge over the stream and her began her climb. There had once been a path