Our town, thought Kate. Like he owned it.
‘Fantastic.’ Winking at Kate, Will rubbed his hands together with boyish enthusiasm. ‘Can’t wait.’
Kate pointedly ignored the wink. What an utter prat.
* * *
Deliveries completed, Maddy was back in Ashcombe by one o’clock. Racing over to the Angel, she said, ‘Dexter, I know that deep down, beneath that horrid grumpy exterior, you’re actually a sweet and lovely man.’
‘No I’m not.’ Dexter carried on hanging up beer mugs by their handles.
‘You see? Modest too.’ Plunging on, Maddy said, ‘And now I need a favour. Can I borrow Nuala, just for ten minutes?’ It was Friday lunchtime and the pub was quiet; Dexter could easily handle the few existing customers himself. For good measure she added, ‘Please?’
‘It’ll have to come out of her wages.’
Naturally. Maddy flashed him a brilliant smile. ‘I’ll pay you the thirty pence myself.’
‘Blimey, you must be desperate.’ Aware of Maddy and Nuala’s intensive gossip sessions, Dexter raised an eyebrow. ‘Not pregnant, are you?’
‘I just need to talk to Nuala.’ She heaved an inward sigh. ‘And you’re her boss, which is why I’m being so nice to you.’
‘OK. What d’you want to drink?’
Hooray. ‘Two Cokes please.’
‘Go ahead then, take her outside.’ Dexter waved a dis missive arm in the direction of Nuala, emerging from the storeroom with a box of salt ‘n’ vinegar crisps. ‘Just for ten minutes. And she’ll have Diet Coke,’ he added. ‘There’s hardly room for both of us in one bed as it is.’
‘Back garden,’ Maddy told Nuala when she’d dumped the box of crisps and Dexter had served their drinks. As he dropped the change into Maddy’s hand he said, ‘Time starts ... now.’
‘ Actually,’ Nuala said brightly when they were seated outside, ‘I prefer Diet Coke. Once you get used to the taste, it’s—’
‘No you don’t,’ Maddy interrupted, ‘you’ve just brainwashed yourself into thinking you prefer it because Dexter won’t let you drink the normal kind.’ A lot of their conversations ran along these lines, with Nuala defending Dexter and Maddy vainly attempting to make her see sense.
‘But—’
‘Anyway, enough about you, we’re here to talk about me. If I don’t tell you my stuff, I may have to explode.’
‘And Dexter would make me clear up all the mess.’ Instantly diverted, Nuala leaned her elbows on the table and said eagerly, ‘Go on then, tell me. Is this to do with the bloke you met last week at the party?’
‘Yes.’
‘I knew it! Is he completely gorgeous?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And you really really fancy him?’
‘ Yes—’
‘ And he really really fancies you? Oh wow, that’s so brilliant, when did all this happen and why didn’t you tell me bef— Ow!’
‘ Sorry,’ sighed Maddy, because the only way to stop Nuala when she got this carried away was to pinch her wrist hard. She hadn’t meant to grind the bones like that, though.
‘That hurt!’
‘I know, sorry sorry, but we don’t have time to play twenty questions, and the thing is, it isn’t brilliant because—’
‘God, he’s married, what a bas— oh no you don’t.’ Nuala snatched her wrist away just in time. ‘OK, sorry, I’ll shut up.’ Pause. ‘But I’m right, aren’t I? He’s married.’
‘ He isn’t.’ Shaking her head, Maddy explained the whole sorry McKinnon saga in four minutes flat.
This time Nuala listened intently and didn’t interrupt once.
‘Shit,’ she said flatly when Maddy had finished. ‘I know.’
‘This isn’t good.’
‘Tell me about it,’ agreed Maddy, draining her Coke and feeling pretty drained herself. At least, her brain felt drained, but underneath the wooden trellis table her hopelessly overexcited knees were jiggling away like mini Michael Flatleys. Taking an envelope from her jeans pocket and placing it in front of Nuala, she added, ‘And now this.’
Nuala whisked the enclosed sheet of paper from the battered envelope and read the brief handwritten note.
‘He wants to meet you tomorrow! God, this is so romantic! I mean, I’ve had phone calls and text messages in my time, but nobody’s ever written me a letter.’
‘It’s not romantic when he’s only doing it because a phone call would be too risky.’ Fraught, Maddy raked her fingers through her already drastically-raked hair. ‘He’s in London today. He left the envelope with his receptionist to hand over to me.’
‘But don’t you see? That’s even more romantic! "I need to see you, properly."‘ Nuala swooned as she read aloud. —Saturday night, seven o’clock, my flat. Let me know if you can’t make it.
Hope you can. Kerr." Ooh, nice flat,’ she added with approval, noting the address. ‘And lovely masterful handwriting. If you aren’t up for it, can I go instead?’
‘I want to go, more than anything.’ Maddy watched a ladybird inch its way along the edge of the table, then spread its wings and take off like a Harrier jump jet. ‘But how can I?’
‘What d’you mean, how can you? Are you mad?’ squeaked Nuala. ‘You have to go!’
‘Marcella would kill me.’
‘What Marcella doesn’t know won’t hurt her,’ Nuala blithely retorted. ‘How’s she ever going to find out? My mum’s next-door neighbours got divorced last summer, it turned out that the husband had been having an affair for the last fifteen years and his wife hadn’t had any idea!’
As if that made it all right, thought Maddy. ‘But—’
‘Anyway, you already know you’ll go.’
‘What?’ Maddy stared at her. ‘How can you say that?’
‘Oh, come on. Why else would you show me the letter? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?’
Looking pleased with herself, Nuala said, ‘Because you knew I’d say you had to meet him. Face it, you know me. I’m hardly likely to tell you never to see him again, am I? You want me to persuade you to go to his flat tomorrow night, so it’s my decision and not yours.’ Squishing an ant with her thumb, she beamed across at Maddy. ‘Plus, of course, it’ll be my fault if anything goes wrong.’
Maddy couldn’t speak.
‘See?’ Nuala said happily. ‘I’m not as daft as I look, am I?’
‘God, I didn’t even realise what I was doing.’ Maddy let out a wail, snatching the letter and shoving it back into her pocket. ‘I hate it when you’re right!’
‘So there you go, you have my permission to see him. And wear something sexy.’
‘We’re only going to talk.’
‘ Good grief, are you mad? If he’s as gorgeous as you say he is, and meeting him is this risky, what on earth’s the point of just talking?’ Nuala raised her eyebrows in disbelief. ‘I mean, if Marcella’s going to go ballistic anyway — not that she will find out, of course, but if she did — you may as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb.’ Pausing, she frowned.
‘You know, I don’t actually understand what that means. I mean, why would anyone want to hang a sheep or a—’