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mother live with the grandmother so that she can care for Peter while his mother goes to work. His asthma is almost certainly allergic. He didn't have it until he went to live with his grandmother and she is a cat person—she breeds Siamese, it seems the house is full of them. But she is convinced that his trouble is emotional—caused by the divorce. She coddles him, thinks of him as "delicate"—instils into him that he will be ill if he runs and plays with the other kids.' He spread his hands. 'You've seen the result.'
    She shook her head. 'What can be done about it?'
    'Ideally he and his mother should move to a place of their own, away from the cats and the grandmother's influence. But it isn't as easy as that. Peter's mother needs the money she earns, she couldn't afford to pay someone to look after Peter during the day.'
    'Now that he's started school couldn't she find a job that would fit in with his hours?'
    He pulled a face. 'You know how hard jobs are to find. That's something for the hospital social worker to sort out. Our job is to convince her—the mother, that is—that Peter's trouble is being caused essentially by the cats.' It isn't always easy to accept a fact that is going to make life difficult for us, is it?'
    She digested this last remark, knowing all too well how true it was.
    Sean leaned forward. 'Katy—don't tell me that you're not cut out to be a nurse. It just isn't true and you know it, don't you? You're not going to let one setback ruin a good career, are you?'
    She refused to look at him, twisting her fingers in her lap. 'I've given in my notice now,' she said in a small voice. 'I can't take it back—I won't.'
    'All right. But look, if you take this temporary job for the summer I can put in a word for you if you like. You could start again in the autumn. You'd miss the next sitting but you could take your finals again in the winter. What do you say?'
    'I'll take the job if it's still on offer,' she said noncommitally.
    He smiled. 'I always knew you would in the end. I think you just wanted me to twist your arm a little, didn't you, Katy?'
    She looked up at him, her eyes blazing. 'Don't be so damned arrogant! If you really want to know, the only reason I'm accepting the job is that I've no choice. I've no job and—and no home either!' Then, to her utter horror, her throat tightened and tears began to roll helplessly down her cheeks. Sean stared at her in alarm.
    'What on earth do you mean—no home? Has something happened to your father?'
    She nodded, gulping speechlessly.
    'Good Lord! I'm terribly sorry, Katy. When did this happen?'
    'When I went home a month ago.' She swallowed hard, dabbing at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. 'There was this woman who announced that she was his fiancée. It was awful. They didn't want me at all. She made it clear that she doesn't expect me to be around much after they're married either. And there was I thinking that he needed me—stupidly giving up my job to go and be with him,' she ended bitterly, her voice catching.
    She had expected him to have a good laugh but he didn't. Instead he moved across to sit next to her on the settee, handing her his large handkerchief.
    'Here—you'll shrink that sleeve. Why is it that girls never seem to have handkerchieves?' He touched her arm. 'Katy—I hate to say I told you so, but I always thought you were making a mistake running home to your father. If you're really honest with yourself that is what you were doing, isn't it—running away?'
    She shook her head angrily, the tears flowing even faster. 'It isn't true! How dare you say it is!'
    He slipped an arm round her. 'Go on, admit it—you'll feel better once you've faced up to the fact. Home was a nice safe little bolt-hole where you could hide and lick your wounds. But your father is still a comparatively young man. You should be glad that he's found someone he can be happy with again. I'm sure you will be once the shock has worn off.'
    'You don't