Once behind the wheel, she laid into him with a will. But he gave as good as he got and when they joined up again afterwards they agreed that honours were even. But in one thing he beat her hollow—on the rifle range his aim was perfect. He scored bullseyes with ease and was offered his pick of the prizes on display. He chose a small fluffy teddy bear and solemnly presented it to her. She fell in love with it at once. The face was slightly lopsided, giving it an air of cheeky humour that she instantly recognised. ‘He’s you,’ she said. ‘Me?’ he asked, startled. ‘Well, he’s rather better-looking than you, of course,’ she said, considering. ‘But that cocky air is exactly you. My bruin.’ ‘Bruin?’ ‘It’s an old word for bear. This isn’t just an ordinary bear. He’s my bear. He’s a real bruin.’ She dropped a kiss on the furry little fellow’s snout. ‘I’m jealous,’ Mark said. ‘How can you be jealous of yourself?’ she demanded, tucking the toy safely into her bag.
