September 1992

Diana Lynch had a spring in her step as she walked briskly toward the spot she had agreed to meet her friends, outside Alberto’s Ristorante and Pizzeria. She had arrived in New York City only yesterday to recommence her studies; this time with the aim of becoming a landscape designer. It was the second time that she had changed her major and she was positive that this time she had made the right choice.

Not far ahead of her she could clearly see Jim Frayne, engaged in a casual chat with an unfamiliar young woman. She had short dyed-red hair and rather outlandish clothes, and reminded Di strongly of some of the more rebellious girls she had known in California.

I wonder who she is, Di mused. It must be one of his classmates. As she approached the couple, Di realised her mistake. Oh, my, she thought. It’s Honey. I never would have recognised her. She carefully schooled her expression into a pleasant smile and called a friendly greeting.

“It’s good to see you,” she told them. “I can’t believe how long it’s been.”

“Too long,” added Honey. “But we’ll have plenty of time to catch up now.”

“If we ever see each other,” Di giggled. “You wouldn’t believe the trouble I had finding a time when everyone could make it.”

At that moment, Trixie joined the threesome.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, puffing a little. She had evidently been running. “I got caught up at the library.”

“You’re not late, Trixie,” said Honey. “Dan’s not even here yet.”

“Yes, I am,” he said from behind her, catching her around the waist. “Let’s go eat. I’m starved.”

The group seated themselves at their reserved table in the cozy Italian restaurant and began a friendly squabble on whether to order pizza or pasta.

“Well I know what I’m ordering,” said Trixie, wanting to end the discussion. “Di, they make the most delicious gnocchi here, with sun-dried tomatoes and asparagus and shaved parmesan cheese.”

“Mmm,” said Di. “My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Let’s have pasta.”

“You have your way this time, Trixie,” said Dan, who had wanted pizza, “but you’ll have to play it my way when it comes to that other matter.”

“That’s fine,” said Trixie, her voice and manner calm. “I can wait.”

“What’s going on,” asked Di, perplexed. “Is this some sort of secret?”

“Dan has a mystery for me,” said Trixie, mildly. “He seems to think that I should be bothering him for details.”

I can’t believe it, Di thought. The Trixie I knew would have never reacted like that.

She was so lost in thought that she missed several minutes of conversation. The waitress’s arrival to take their orders snapped her attention back to the moment and she decided to make an effort to keep up.

“So when do you expect to finish your studies, Jim?” Di asked when the waitress left.

“In about twelve months’ time,” he responded. “Providing, of course, my work is satisfactory.”

“I suppose this time next year you’ll be working towards starting your school,” Di added. “Have you chosen a site for it yet?”

“But there isn’t going to be any school,” Jim told her. “At least not in the next five or ten years.”

“What will you do?” Di asked, shocked.

“Well, there are several agencies that do work with at-risk youths,” he replied seriously. “I’ve been looking into their work and when I get a little closer to finishing, I’ll be applying to them.”

What has happened to everyone? Di asked herself. I thought I knew these people.

Once their meals arrived, Di realised why Trixie had recommended this restaurant. The portions were generous, the prices were reasonable and the food was delicious. Added to that, she felt comfortable here.

While the group ate, Di felt as though nothing had changed. It was as if the last few years had been washed away and she was back in high school, laughing and talking with her friends.

After they had eaten all they could hold the group made their way back to Jim’s apartment to talk further. No one seemed to want the evening to end. An hour passed unnoticed, followed by another.

“Would anyone like some cake?” Dan asked. “I baked it this afternoon and dropped it over here.”

“Yes, please,” said Honey immediately. “Your cakes are just divine.”

Cake? thought Di. Since when did Dan bake cakes? Unbidden, an incongruous image came into her mind. Strong, masculine Dan stood before her wearing tight black jeans, a black T-shirt and a pink, frilly apron. The effort not to laugh aloud was almost too much.

A few minutes later Di had to agree with Honey: Dan’s cakes were divine, if this one was anything to go by. It looked like a work of art and tasted like no cake Di had ever eaten before.

“It’s an apricot upside down cake,” said Dan, serving out slices.

“Oh, this is just gorgeous,” Di gushed. “Where did you ever learn to bake like this?”

“Nothing to it,” said Dan, smiling.

“You’re too modest,” said Honey, leaning her head on his shoulder. “He’s simply a genius.”

To Dan’s embarrassment, the others agreed.

This evening is certainly full of surprises, mused Di. I wonder what will be next.

She soon found out. Earlier in the evening Di had started to update her address book with everyone’s new contact details. As Dan and Jim cleared away the dishes she realised that she had not finished.

“Oh, Dan,” Di called. “I still haven’t got your new address and phone number.”

“I thought Honey gave them to you,” he replied.

“No,” said Di, checking her address book. “She only gave me hers.”

“The very same,” said Dan, with a smile.

Di’s violet eyes widened ever so slightly.

“You mean-” she began.

“Just don’t give us the ‘living in sin’ lecture, okay?” he replied. “I’ve had enough of that one from Uncle Bill.”

Oh, this has just got to be it, thought Di. There’s nothing left to shock me now.

“You’re okay with this, aren’t you Di?” Honey asked quietly while the others were in the kitchen. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with us.”

“I just didn’t expect it,” said Di. “I always thought you’d be the conventional one, you know?”

Honey laughed. “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it?” she said. “Trixie’s being the conventional one, I’m living in sin and you’re the free agent. It’s all sort of mixed up.”

Di joined her laughter. “I never saw Trixie as conventional. Next thing we know, she’ll be getting married and having a houseful of kids.”

“And growing vegetables,” added Honey, “and cooking and cleaning.”

“Especially dusting,” Di put in, “wearing a pink, frilly apron.”

The image set the two girls giggling, interrupted moments later by Trixie.

“I’ve set the men to the washing up,” she said, eyeing them suspiciously. “Now, what are you two up to?”

“Oh, Trixie,” gasped Di, “we’re just imagining you at home with a tribe of kids, cooking and cleaning and gardening while your husband works.”

“That’s not funny,” said Trixie indignantly, retreating to the kitchen. The other two girls only laughed harder.

Some time later, the group reformed in the living room.

“This has been really nice,” Jim said. “Kind of like old times, don’t you think?”

Amidst general agreement, Di suddenly had an idea.

“Let’s get the whole group back together,” she said. “We could go on a trip somewhere, just like we used to.”

“We’d never manage it,” Honey said with a laugh. “We could barely get the five of us together for one evening.”

“Please, can we try?” Di asked, her voice filled with longing. “I’ll do all the organising.”

“Di, if you can pull that off, then go ahead,” said Jim, with a quiet enthusiasm. “It would be good to have a Bob-White reunion.”

Before they left that evening Dan dangled a brown paper bag tantalisingly in front of Trixie.

“Don’t forget your first clue,” he taunted.

Trixie’s manner was uninterested as she took the bag and quietly thanked him. She placed the small package inside her handbag without even looking inside.

What is going on? thought Di. I can’t believe how cool she is about this.

Several days later, Di was beginning to wonder if she had underestimated the task she was letting herself in for.

“Brian, it’s Di,” she said into the phone. “When you get this message could you give me a call back? I’m trying to organise a reunion.”

After giving her number, Di put the phone down with a sigh. After several attempts she had not managed to speak to either Brian or Mart in person, although she had left multiple messages for each of them.

If one of them doesn’t get back to me soon I think I’ll give up, she thought. No one’s interested in this but me.

The phone rang and Di jumped.

“Hello?” she said.

“Di, it’s Mart,” came a familiar voice. “Uh, I got your messages.”

Di could have jumped for joy.

“Mart, it’s great to hear from you,” she said, her enthusiasm for the project overcoming the coolness which had grown between them since their break up. “I’m trying to get the Bob-Whites back together for a week or so. When can you make it?”

“I’ll have to check,” he replied edgily. “I’m not sure that you should count me in.”

Di’s spirits dropped as quickly as they had risen.

“I really wanted to get everyone together,” she persisted. “Please, can you try to make some time for it?”

“I’m pretty busy,” he replied. “Why don’t you go ahead without me?”

“Is it because I’m the one who’s asking?” she said in a small voice. “I thought we promised that what happened between us wouldn’t affect the group.”

“Look, I’m sorry Di,” he said hastily. “I’m not sure that I want to see you at the moment. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Fine,” said Di, her voice cold. “Goodbye, Mart.”

Di put the receiver down and let the tears flow.

The next morning, Di’s spirits fell even lower. A scrawled message from her roommate told her that Brian Belden was not interested in a reunion and would talk to her some other time.

That’s it, thought Di. It was a nice idea, but it’s never going to work.

Later that day, Di met Trixie for lunch. She had been looking forward to catching up but the message from Brian had drained all of her enthusiasm.

“So how are the plans going?” Trixie asked, while spinning an apple around in her hands.

“Forget it,” muttered Di.

Trixie looked at her speculatively and set the apple down on the table.

“Which one?” she asked.

“Pardon?” asked Di, confused.

“Which of my brothers has upset you?” Trixie clarified, picking the apple up and tossing it back and forth between her hands.

“Never mind,” said Di, her voice soft and her eyes averted. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She did not see the look of determination cross Trixie’s face.

“Are you going to eat that?” Di asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

Trixie looked at the apple as if for the first time.

“This?” she asked. “Is it right to eat clues?”

Diana looked at her in surprise.

“Clues?” she asked.

“Dan’s second clue,” Trixie clarified. “You know, for this little mystery he’s trying to get me with.”

“Oh,” said Diana falling into silence. Suddenly, she asked, “And what was the first clue?”

“An empty notebook,” Trixie told her.

“What does it mean?” Di asked.

“I think I’ll have to wait for the third clue,” Trixie mused. “With just this much information it could be just about anything.”

The next few days flew by for Diana. Within hours of her conversation with Trixie she had received two phone calls from the rather contrite Belden brothers, each suggesting dates that they would be available. She then set about the difficult task contacting each of the other former Bob-Whites to negotiate a date.

“But Honey,” she found herself saying into the telephone one evening, “if you can’t say which dates you’re available, we’ll never settle this.”

“I’m sorry Di,” Honey replied, “but it depends on my publisher. I just can’t see my way clear to take any time off before Christmas. Between my study and my writing and my publicity commitments, I’m pretty busy at the moment.”

“How about after Christmas,” Di persisted. “Maybe around New Year.”

“I’ll check and let you know,” Honey replied.

It was more than a week later that Di talked to Honey again. The two girls met in Honey and Dan’s tiny apartment one evening while Dan was at work.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Di began, “whether you know what this mystery of Dan’s is all about.”

“Well, yes,” Honey started, her voice uncertain, “but I’m sworn to secrecy.”

Di looked at her musingly.

“I can tell you what the clues are,” Honey continued. “A notebook, an apple and a picture of Mrs. Belden.”

“A picture of Mrs. Belden?” Di asked her, amazed. “How can that possibly be a clue?”

Honey laughed.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” she replied. “If I told you that, it would give the whole thing away.”

The air was decidedly chilly as Diana approached Alberto’s Ristorante and Pizzeria once again. Winter was approaching now and the early evening had the feel of it.

It seems like forever since the last time we were here, Di reflected as she pushed open the door.

She saw Honey and Dan waiting at the same table they had used the last time and they greeted her warmly.

“How are the plans coming?” Honey asked.

“I’m hoping we can finalise the date tonight,” Di replied. “Everything else hinges on that, really.”

A few minutes later Trixie and Jim joined them and they ordered their food. This time, Dan had his way and they chose pizza.

“So, Di,” Jim began once the waiter left, “do we have a reunion date yet?”

“I hope so,” she replied. “How does the twenty-seventh of December to the second of January sound?”

For several moments there was no response other than a hurried checking of calendars and general muttering.

“I’m free,” said Dan, after a long - and to Di’s mind, nervous - pause.

“Me too,” added Honey.

Jim and Trixie both added their approval and the whole group breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now all we have to do is get Brian and Mart’s okay and we’re set,” said Jim, smiling.

“Let’s ring them now,” suggested Trixie. “There’s a pay phone in the corner there.”

She quickly gathered enough change for the calls and made her way to the phone.

“Is she talking to them?” asked Di whose back was to the phone. “I can’t bear to look.”

“She’s talking,” said Honey, opposite her. “I can’t tell if it’s good or bad, though. Oh, now she’s smiling. She’s hung up and now she’s dialling again. And she’s talking again. She’s - well - sort of smiling. I’m not sure if that’s a good sign. She’s put the phone down.”

To Diana, the wait for Trixie to return to the table seemed interminable. To make matters worse, when Trixie arrived at the table Diana could not work out from her face what the outcome was.

I can’t stand this, she thought. I don’t want to be in suspense but I can’t bring myself to ask. Honey came to her rescue.

“What did they say?” she asked, her voice filled with breathless anticipation.

“They’re both available,” said Trixie, rather evasively. A cheer went up among the assembled former Bob-Whites.

“That’s great,” said Dan. “But we’d better make sure that none of us double books that time.”

“I agree. This is one trip that everyone is going on,” said Honey. “I’m going to write it in my calendar right now.”

“So where is that we’re going?” asked Trixie.

Her question was met with four blank looks.

“I don’t think we decided that,” said Honey slowly. “Any ideas?”

“Somewhere we’ve been before?” asked Jim. “Maybe Cobbett’s Island?”

“In winter?” asked Di. “Brrr! Too cold.”

“Well how about Mead’s Mountain?” suggested Trixie.

“I doubt we could get a booking,” said Jim. “The resort is in full swing now.”

“The same goes for Arizona,” added Di. “Though, perhaps Uncle Monty could squeeze us in somewhere.”

“Maybe Uncle Andrew could have us at Happy Valley,” Trixie mused. “Though I think it would be better if we go somewhere alone.”

“Pirate’s Point would be nice,” added Honey, “but I doubt that Mr. Trask would be able to fit all of us in.”

“New York is no good,” added Jim, “seeing that five of us live here now.”

“Which leaves one place,” said Dan. “In fact, it’s the only other place that we’ve all been.”

“Of course,” cried Di. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. We’ll go to Cliveden. I’ll call Daddy first thing and find out if Rosewood Hall’s available.”

The following morning Di called her father as she had promised, only to find that the bookings were being handled by an agency. Mr. Lynch had made the beautifully restored property available for corporate retreats and the like, complete with resident staff and numerous new facilities.

Diana dialled the number given to her by her father’s personal assistant.

“Oh, hello,” she said when the phone was answered. “My name is Diana Lynch and I’m interested in booking Rosewood Hall for a week.”

In a few moments the booking officer had brought up the appropriate record.

“Yes, Ms. Lynch,” she replied. “Your name is listed for bookings without payment. What dates would you like?”

Diana told her and there was another pause as the woman keyed in the information.

“Rosewood Hall is available for those dates,” she told Diana. “You will receive a confirmation of the booking in the mail within the next few days.”

After answering a few more questions Diana hung up, satisfied.

Next, thought Di, I’ll have to make sure everyone knows where they have to be and when. I think I’d better give it to them in writing.

She made her way to one of the computer rooms available to her and set about typing the information neatly.

Di looked at what she had typed and decided that it would do. She printed a copy and took it to the nearest photocopier.

There, she thought when she had finished. Now all I have to do is get one to everyone.

Over the next few days Diana spent considerable time trying to speak to the other former Bob-Whites. She posted the information to Brian and Mart and telephoned each of them to confirm that they had received it but decided that she should speak to the others in person.

Trixie and Jim were easy to reach and Di spoke to them on the same day that she had the information ready. Honey and Dan were far more difficult to contact. Between study, Dan’s work and Honey’s writing and publishing commitments, there was little time to spare and the two of them took best advantage of it when it arose.

“Honey! Dan!” Di yelled one late afternoon several days later. She had caught sight of her friends a short distance ahead of her on a crowded street.

The pair turned, immediately creating a disturbance amongst the quickly moving people. The three moved into an open space near the building they had stopped in front of.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Di said, as she rummaged wildly through her bag. “I’ve got the information for you for the reunion.”

“Thanks,” said Honey, quickly scanning her copy. “Isn’t this exciting? I haven’t looked forward to a trip so much in years!”

“It was a great idea, Di,” Dan agreed. “You’ve done really well getting this organised.”

Di blushed. Dan’s praise was rare, though not as rare as it had been when they first met.

Exams were quickly approaching now and Di felt she needed every spare moment to study. She did, however take time to work on some activities for the reunion as she sensed that the group would need some help in getting along together after all this time.

In any moment she could spare, she pored over the books she borrowed and bought - looking for things they could do which she would not feel too silly in suggesting.

Can I see us having egg and spoon races? she wondered. I don’t think so! There must be something better in one of these books.

By the time her exams started Di had worked out exactly what the program would be for the reunion. She had worked hard at both her studies and the organisation of the trip and she felt sure that both would be successful.

As Diana sat for each exam she felt more and more confident. The work had been interesting and she had spent more time on it than in either of her previous majors.

This is really me, she thought after completing the exam she had dreaded the most. Finally, I’m in the right place!

Despite deciding that it was not her life’s ambition, Diana had continued her interest in acting and it was about this time that she auditioned for a small part in a play.

As she waited to find out whether she would be called a second time a young man approached her. A thrill ran through her.

Oh my, she thought. He’s very good-looking.

His black hair was immaculately groomed above flawless olive skin and dark eyes. He was strongly built, though hardly taller than Di herself. Without conscious thought, she started to preen.

“What part are you trying out for?” he asked her in a voice so smooth and deep it made her feel like she could swoon.

“Alice,” she told him. “How about you?”

“Not the lead?” he asked, ignoring her question. “I had hoped that we might star opposite each other. I’m Lennox de More, by the way.”

“Diana Lynch,” she replied.

At that moment, a man with an irritated look on his face appeared in the doorway and motioned for Lennox to leave.

“Give me a call,” he told her, pressing a card in her hand. “I’d like to continue this conversation later.”

With that he was gone and Diana was left wondering whether she would dare to take up his offer. A few minutes later she was on her way home, having missed the cut.

I probably couldn’t have taken the part anyway, she thought, not the slightest bit disappointed. It did not occur to her that her lack of disappointment was linked to meeting Lennox.

The following evening Diana found herself seated opposite Lennox in a stylish restaurant. Soft music played as she accepted the menu from the waiter.

I can’t afford this, she thought, trying to suppress her panic.

Lennox must have seen her shock.

“Relax,” he whispered to her. “It’s my treat.”

Di swallowed hard and forced her body to untense.

“Thank you,” she whispered back.

Lennox began to casually muse aloud on what he would like to order and soon Diana felt at ease again. Before she knew it, their meals had arrived. She felt so comfortable with Lennox that it seemed hard to believe they had only met the previous day.

As they finished their meal the music became louder and people began to dance.

“May I have this dance?” Lennox asked her.

Diana smiled her answer and soon the two were moving effortlessly over the dance floor. Di felt as if she was dancing on air.

All too soon the evening was over and Lennox was dropping her home.

“I really enjoyed this evening,” he told her. “I’d love to see you again.”

“I’d like that too,” Di replied.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promised, moving closer. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed.

His arms slid around her shoulders and his mouth moved towards hers. Their lips met softly, briefly, then he was gone.

With the usual flurry of activity, the semester drew to a close. The night before leaving for home for the holidays, Jim invited the other former Bob-Whites to his apartment for the evening. He needed to clean out the kitchen before leaving, and thought they could make a party of it, and eat all of his leftovers at the same time.

It was early evening when the others began to arrive. Trixie was there first, since she had finished exams several days earlier than the others and had only stayed in the city to be near Jim.

“Anything I can do to help?” she asked him. Her own belongings were neatly packed - mostly; ready to leave in the morning.

“No, I think we’re under control,” he told her. “Let’s just sit and talk.”

They were cozily curled up together when Di arrived and Trixie grumbled at having to move to let her in.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked politely. Di sometimes felt uncomfortable being alone with either Jim and Trixie or Honey and Dan.

“No, of course not,” Jim told her. “How are the plans?”

“Great,” Di replied. “I can hardly wait. Though, considering what I’ve got planned before then, they’d better be.”

“Christmas in Arizona?” Jim asked.

“Uncle Monty’s standing invitation,” Di said with a laugh. “He loves to have us and we love to go.”

“You’ll be leaving early, though, won’t you?” Trixie asked.

“Yes,” Di replied. “This will be the first time I’ve come back before everyone else, but it’ll be worth it just to have all the Bob-Whites together again.”

A knock at the door indicated that two more of the Bob-Whites had arrived.

“Just wait till you see what we brought,” Honey said when Jim opened the door. “Dan’s been busy.”

“Ooh, let me see,” pleaded Trixie, peeking into the container which Dan held. “I knew it! Dan you’re a genius.”

“What is it?” Di asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” said Dan. He turned sternly towards Trixie. “Trixie, don’t you dare say a word.”

Trixie took the container from him and flounced off to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Jim had begun moving the food to the table in preparation for the meal. The others pitched in to help and soon the group had sat down to a rather incongruous assortment of dishes.

“Interesting menu,” Honey commented. “I don’t usually have roast lamb with curry.”

“Or rice with roast vegetables,” added Di.

“It all has to go,” Jim told them, unperturbed. “Besides, if you reverse those they go just fine.”

“Curry and roast vegetables?” Honey asked innocently.

“You knew what I meant, sister dear,” Jim replied, sounding tired. “For heaven’s sake, just pick something and eat it!”

Despite Jim’s unusual menu the evening flew past. The five managed to eat almost all of the food.

“Just enough for breakfast,” said Jim, considering.

“You’re going to eat curry for breakfast?” asked Di, alarmed.

“Sure, why not?” replied Jim. “After all, we ran out of breakfast foods days ago. This morning I had stir fried chicken.”

While the conversation continued, Dan quietly left the table to prepare their dessert. A few minutes later he returned to a chorus of approval.

“Mmm,” said Trixie. “Profiteroles. I can’t wait.”

“Aren’t they very difficult to make?” Di asked, her voice full of awe.

Dan shook his head and told everyone to help themselves. “These ones are filled with cream,” he explained. “The rest are filled with custard. And there’s plenty of chocolate sauce to go with them.”

Soon, everyone was eating and they all agreed that profiteroles were the perfect end to their meal.

“So who’ll help me clean up,” Honey asked when the platter was empty and all of the sauce gone.

“Count me in,” Jim said immediately.

“I’ll help too,” added Dan.

“Then we’re out, Di,” said Trixie. “That kitchen is way too small for any more than three.”

Trixie and Di settled themselves comfortably on the sofa to await the others. As the sound of happy chatter and the clink of dishes filtered through to them, Trixie leaned in to whisper a question to Di.

“Been on any hot dates lately?”

“Who, me?” Di asked, looking angelic. “Whatever makes you ask that?”

“Just wondering,” her friend replied. “So, when do I get to meet him?”

Di raised an elegant eyebrow as she considered the possible answers to that question. She was unsure of how much Trixie knew, having said very little about Lennox to anyone. For reasons which she did not fully understand, she wanted to keep this relationship private for a little while longer.

“Who says I want you to meet him?” she asked with a grin. “I might want to keep him all to myself.” Seeing that Trixie was unsatisfied with that answer, she quickly changed the subject. “So, what’s happening with Dan’s mystery?”

“Oh, I worked that out ages ago,” she replied casually.

“You what?” Di practically shrieked.

“I worked it out,” Trixie repeated with a smile. “It was pretty simple, really.”

“A notebook, an apple and a picture of your mother,” Di stated, a dubious look on her face. “What does it mean?”

“Well, what does a notebook mean to you?” Trixie prompted.

“I don’t know,” Di replied.

“Of course you do,” Trixie enthused. “What do you do with a notebook?”

“Write notes in it?” Di asked.

“What sort of notes?” Trixie responded.

“Names and numbers? Class notes? Reminders? I don’t know, Trixie,” Di sighed.

“Next clue: the apple. What do apples mean to you?” Trixie grinned.

“You eat them,” said Di flatly.

“What else?” Trixie prompted.

“Cook them? Give them to the teacher?” Di replied. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Third clue: Moms,” Trixie persisted. “What do you know about my mother?”

“Lots of things,” Di said with a little frown. “Where do I start?”

“Apples,” Trixie responded cryptically. Seeing that Di did not understand she clarified, “What do you know about my mother that has to do with apples?”

“She makes apple pies? I don’t know, Trixie,” Di sighed. “You’ll have to just tell me. I can’t get this.”

“Of course you can,” Trixie replied. “You’re almost there.”

“I am not, Trixie Belden,” Diana responded hotly. “You’d better just tell me ’cause I’ll never work out why Dan would write notes about apple pies.”

Trixie simply laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Di asked, offended.

“Oh, Di,” Trixie giggled. “You’re so much smarter than you realise. Do you know what you just did?”

“What?” Di almost whispered.

“You took the next step towards the answer,” Trixie told her. “Now ask yourself: why would Dan write notes about apple pies?”

“But that’s silly, Trixie,” Di answered. “The only place I really take notes is in class and Dan’s studying computer science so they wouldn’t be talking about pies - but that’s the answer isn’t it?” Di was excited now. “He’s taking a hobby class, isn’t he? In pie-making?”

“You did it, Di,” Trixie said, hugging her. “It’s a class in pastry-making to be exact, but essentially that’s it!”

“What goes on here?” asked Dan, as the other three approached them.

“I solved your mystery,” Di proclaimed. “With a little help from Trixie.”

The whole group was very happy for her and made sure that she knew it. Di looked around the room at her friends’ smiling faces.

Maybe they haven’t changed all that much, she thought. Deep inside, we’re still the Bob-Whites.

The End

Back to Janice’s The Long Way Home Page

Please note: Trixie Belden is a registered trademark of Random House Publishing. This site is in no way associated with Random House and no profit is being made from these pages.