‘I know, I can hardly wait to get in it!’ Her eyes brightwith laughter, the woman said, ‘And it’s going to drive my children demented.’
‘Why?’
‘Ha! If you met them you wouldn’t need to ask. I have three,’ said the woman, counting them off on fingers weighed down with glittering rings. ‘A bank manager, a Tory MP and a perfect-wife-andmother who lives in Surrey. I don’t know where I went wrong. They’re dreadfully ashamed of me. I’m the bane of their lives, poor darlings. Oh well, can’t win ‘em all I suppose. Jake, would you be an angel and pop it into the truck? I want to show it off to my friends.’
Jake effortlessly loaded the casket into the back of the woman’s muddy Land Rover. Reaching up, she kissed him on both cheeks, leaving scarlet lipstick marks, then hopped into the driver’s seat and with a toot and a wave roared off.
Norris was by this time flat out on the dusty ground, snoring peacefully in the sun like a drunk.
‘Business or pleasure?’ said Jake.
‘Sorry?’
‘Are you here to buy a coffin?’
Kate suppressed a shudder. ‘No.’
He smiled briefly. ‘So, pleasure then.’
Hardly. ‘Not that either. Your mother asked me to tell you to take the lamb chops out of the freezer.’
Jake laughed. ‘Sounds like one of those coded messages. You say, "Take the lamb chops out of the freezer," then I nod and say, "Lamb chops are excellent with mint sauce." Are you sure you aren’t a secret agent?’
She hadn’t expected him to sound so normal, friendly even. Stiffly, Kate said, ‘And she also said not to forget about Sophie’s party.’
‘Ah yes, the party.’ Still nodding in a spy-like manner, Jake said, ‘Five o’clock, in ze village hall.
Zat is when ze party begins. I haff ze situation under control – oh bugger, actually I don’t.’ He looked at Kate then, quizzically, at Norris. ‘Where did the dog come from?’
‘We’re looking after him for a friend of my mother’s. Just for a few weeks. Actually, it was your mother’s idea,’ said Kate.
‘Tell me about it.’ Jake’s greenish-yellow eyes narrowed with amusement. ‘Ideas are my mother’s speciality.’
‘She thought a dog would get me out of the house.’
‘And here you are, so she was right. Would you be on your way to the shop, by any chance?’
‘Yes.’ Kate eyed him warily. ‘Why?’
‘Ze party at five o’clock. I haff ze present, but no paper in vich to wrap it.’
‘OK,’ sighed Kate; was this where her future lay, as some kind of lowly gofer? She jiggled Norris’s lead and he opened a baleful eye. ‘Norris, come on, get up.’
‘ Leave him with me,’ Jake said easily. ‘You’d only have to tie him up outside the shop.’ Taking the end of the lead, he looped it over the gatepost, then dug a pound coin out of his jeans pocket.
‘There you go. Actually, I’m holding him hostage to stop you running off with my money. Bring me the wrapping paper and you’ll get the dog back.’
‘You’re assuming I want him back,’ said Kate.
‘And von more zing,’ Jake called after her as she headed along Main Street.
She turned. ‘What?’
‘Ze wrapping paper. No Barbies. No pink.’
The general store, a kind of mini supermarket-cum-tardis, was owned by a garrulous old spinster called Theresa who had run the place for the last forty years and knew everything that went on in Ashcombe. Kate couldn’t get out of there fast enough.
‘Hello, dear, heard you were back, look at your poor old face, eh? What a shame, what a thing to happen, that’s America for you though, isn’t it, everyone drives like maniacs over there, rushing around, I’ve seen ‘em doin’ it on the telly, what I always say is take your time and get somewhere safely, better than goin’ too fast and not getting there at all .. . What’re you doin’ buying dog food then?’
Beadily she eyed Kate’s basket, as if suspicious that the cans of Pedigree Chum might be lunch. ‘You
‘aven’t got a dog.’
‘Just ring them up on the till and stop yabbering, you nosy cow.’
Kate smiled blandly and wondered how Theresa would react if she’d actually said the words aloud instead of just thinking them.
‘We’re looking after one for a friend. And I’ll have a sheet of that wrapping paper. The dark blue one.’
‘Blue? Not your dad’s birthday, is it? Although if it is, we’ve got some nice boxed hankies, or maybe he’d prefer—’
‘It’s not his birthday,’ interrupted Kate.
‘Thought it wasn’t.’ Theresa looked relieved to have been proved right. ‘He’s January, isn’t he?
Your poor mum and dad, must’ve been a terrible shock for them, seein’ you with your face like that and
—’
‘How much do I owe you?’ said Kate.
‘In and out of Theresa’s in under twenty minutes.’ Jake shook his head in admiration. ‘Better contact the Guinness Book of Records.’
‘ What an old witch. She was bursting to know who the wrapping paper was for.’ Kate felt her mood lighten, like the sun coming out. The last time she’d properly known Jake, he’d been Maddy Harvey’s irritating little brother, a skinny ten-year-old covered in grazes, with a much prized dried worm collection. Now, all grown up, he was ... well, all grown up. For some local girl there was no denying he’d be quite a catch.
‘Are you looking at my chest?’ said Jake.
‘No!’
‘Oh. Just wondered. Actually, you could give me a hand with the wrapping if you like.’
Kate followed him into the cool gloom of the workshop. Bemused, she said, ‘A gun?’
‘ Don’t sound so shocked, it’s not a real one.’ Spreading out the sheet of cobalt blue paper on the workbench, Jake picked up the imitation pistol. ‘Fires potato pellets. Here, you make a start with the Sellotape.’
‘I thought it was a birthday party for a girl.’
‘It is, but Sophie chose this. She’s already got one, so now she and Charlotte can have shootouts. Or murder other girls’ Barbies. Sophie thinks dolls are feeble,’ said Jake. ‘She wants to be a police officer when she grows up. Last week I caught her and Tiff aiming a hairdryer at passing motorists. When I asked what she was doing she said, "Being a speed-trap."‘
Together they managed to wrap up the potato gun, although the end result was secure rather than stylish.
‘I’d better get back,’ said Kate.
‘Before they send out the search parties.’ Jake picked up the unused rectangle of paper. ‘Do you think I should wrap up a potato too?’
He was teasing her. Realising she had to say something, Kate began awkwardly, ‘Look, thanks for ... you know, talking to me. Being ... um, normal.’
‘That’s OK.’ Jake clearly found this amusing. ‘I am actually quite a normal person. Plus, I always do as I’m told.’
‘Told?’
‘By Marcella, anyway. Life wouldn’t be worth living otherwise.’
Suspicion crawled over Kate’s skin like ants. ‘You mean ... ?’
Smiling, Jake said, ‘She told me to be nice to you.’
‘When?’ She could barely get the word out.
‘Two minutes before you got here, I imagine.’ He patted the phone lying on the bench. ‘Hey, it’s OK.’
‘It’s not OK. It’s humiliating. I don’t need to be patronised—’
‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ Jake’s green eyes were by this time bright with laughter. ‘I was going to be nice to you anyway.’
But then he would say that, wouldn’t he? For just a few brief minutes, Kate realised, her mood had magically lifted and she’d almost forgotten about her scarred face.