She’d ignored them, believing that with one theoretically asleep and the other doing homework all would be well. Perhaps just checking would allow somewhere in her mind to throw up some answers on the Duck problem. She tiptoed into Jenny’s room: seraphically asleep. Possibly. But quiet and breathing and alive. Lynn was tapping away at the computer in the study when she finally ran her to earth. Not a game: there was a lot of text which disappeared from the screen as soon as Kate hove into view. Coughing gently, Kate raised an enquiring eyebrow. ‘It’s all right. I’ve saved it.’ Lynn was defensive, dismissive. ‘School work?’ Lynn said nothing. ‘I reckoned you’d got another half hour before your parents wanted you in bed.’ ‘That’s OK. I’ll have a shower and read in bed.’ ‘And you’ll need something to eat with your antibiotics? Hell! I never ate that casserole! Or the baked spuds! I got caught up with the train set. D’you fancy a baked potato? I can do another one for me.’ Lynn’s expression was opaque, but since she removed the disk from the computer, pocketing it, and closed the system down for the night, perhaps this was an affirmative.
