to celebrate your saving Chewy, and my meeting you at last to thank you.’
‘Oh, no,’ Kate demurred. ‘That’s too much. Anyway, I—’
‘No, really,’ he said seriously, ‘it’s the perfect drink for this time of day. I prefer it at lunchtime anyway, because it’s so much lighter, especially if you’ve got to go back to work.’ He had guessed the last part of her objection. ‘Unless,’ he added, ‘you don’t actually
like
champagne?’
‘I love it,’ Kate confessed, ‘but—’
‘Well, then!’ The devastating smile was back. To the barman he said, ‘Bottle of Ayala, please, Ken. Ken here will confirm that I generally drink Ayala at lunchtime, I’m not just putting it on to try and impress you. Isn’t that right, Ken?’
‘S’right,’ said Ken, his face determinedly neutral as he turned to the glass-fronted chiller cabinets behind him. Had he witnessed this sort of scene before?
‘And beside,’ Jack went on, still addressing Ken, ‘this young lady is a genuine, gold plated hero. She saved Chewy from an awful death, and me from having to explain it to Theo.’ He looked down at Kate. ‘You haven’t told me your name. I can’t keep calling you “this young lady”.’
‘Especially not for the length of a bottle of champagne.’ Kate laughed. ‘And it does sound rather evil-uncle-y. “Young lady” seems to have all sorts of connotations these days, doesn’t it?’
He laughed too. ‘Quite right, and there’s the whole feminist thing as well – don’t they object to “lady” as opposed to “woman”? It’s a minefield.’
‘I feel rather sorry for men these days. You must often think it’s safer just not to speak at all.’
‘I’m afraid there’s no way you’d make me stop talking, unless you had me freeze-dried,’ he said, grinning. ‘So what is it, anyway?’
‘What is what?’
‘Your name. You still haven’t told me.’
‘Oh, sorry! Kate Jennings.’
He took the excuse for another handshake. ‘Jennings – that’s an Exmoor name,’ he said enquiringly.
‘My dad was from around here.’
‘But you’re new here, you said. Not just passing through, I hope?’
‘No, I’m living here now,’ she said.
At that moment Ken popped the bottle and they watched him pour, then lifted their glasses, and Jack said, ‘To Chewy’s brave rescuer.’
‘There was nothing brave about it,’ Kate objected.
‘All right – to new friendships. How’s that?’
Kate smiled. He was an operator, and yet he did it so nicely it was hard to object. ‘I’ll drink to that,’ she said, and did so.
‘So where exactly are you living?’ he asked when they had put their glasses back on the bar top. ‘Do you want to go a table, by the way, or are you all right here at the bar?’
‘Oh, I like sitting at bars,’ she said, and hitched herself on to a stool. He remained standing – or leaning, rather – which put their faces comfortably on a level. ‘I’ve just bought Little’s Cottage, in School Lane,’ she answered his question.
An extraordinary series of expressions flitted across his face. For a moment he looked almost disconcerted; but then it settled into friendly interest.
‘So that’s it!’ he said. ‘I heard someone had, of course. And now I come to think of it, I’d even heard your name mentioned. I
thought
it was familiar for some reason.’ Chewy, having done the round of the patrons in the bar, came back to them at that moment, and jabbed a wet nose into their spare hands in greeting. Jack looked down, and then said, ‘But tell me about how you found Chewy. All the details, please.’
It seemed to Kate almost like a change of subject, but she was happy to oblige. He was a good listener, and interpolated the right questions at the right moment to allow her to make the most of the narrative. She finished with Chewy running away without thanking her, and vowing to buy herself a big penknife when she was next in Taunton.
Jack looked in concern
‘Oh, no,’ Kate demurred. ‘That’s too much. Anyway, I—’
‘No, really,’ he said seriously, ‘it’s the perfect drink for this time of day. I prefer it at lunchtime anyway, because it’s so much lighter, especially if you’ve got to go back to work.’ He had guessed the last part of her objection. ‘Unless,’ he added, ‘you don’t actually
like
champagne?’
‘I love it,’ Kate confessed, ‘but—’
‘Well, then!’ The devastating smile was back. To the barman he said, ‘Bottle of Ayala, please, Ken. Ken here will confirm that I generally drink Ayala at lunchtime, I’m not just putting it on to try and impress you. Isn’t that right, Ken?’
‘S’right,’ said Ken, his face determinedly neutral as he turned to the glass-fronted chiller cabinets behind him. Had he witnessed this sort of scene before?
‘And beside,’ Jack went on, still addressing Ken, ‘this young lady is a genuine, gold plated hero. She saved Chewy from an awful death, and me from having to explain it to Theo.’ He looked down at Kate. ‘You haven’t told me your name. I can’t keep calling you “this young lady”.’
‘Especially not for the length of a bottle of champagne.’ Kate laughed. ‘And it does sound rather evil-uncle-y. “Young lady” seems to have all sorts of connotations these days, doesn’t it?’
He laughed too. ‘Quite right, and there’s the whole feminist thing as well – don’t they object to “lady” as opposed to “woman”? It’s a minefield.’
‘I feel rather sorry for men these days. You must often think it’s safer just not to speak at all.’
‘I’m afraid there’s no way you’d make me stop talking, unless you had me freeze-dried,’ he said, grinning. ‘So what is it, anyway?’
‘What is what?’
‘Your name. You still haven’t told me.’
‘Oh, sorry! Kate Jennings.’
He took the excuse for another handshake. ‘Jennings – that’s an Exmoor name,’ he said enquiringly.
‘My dad was from around here.’
‘But you’re new here, you said. Not just passing through, I hope?’
‘No, I’m living here now,’ she said.
At that moment Ken popped the bottle and they watched him pour, then lifted their glasses, and Jack said, ‘To Chewy’s brave rescuer.’
‘There was nothing brave about it,’ Kate objected.
‘All right – to new friendships. How’s that?’
Kate smiled. He was an operator, and yet he did it so nicely it was hard to object. ‘I’ll drink to that,’ she said, and did so.
‘So where exactly are you living?’ he asked when they had put their glasses back on the bar top. ‘Do you want to go a table, by the way, or are you all right here at the bar?’
‘Oh, I like sitting at bars,’ she said, and hitched herself on to a stool. He remained standing – or leaning, rather – which put their faces comfortably on a level. ‘I’ve just bought Little’s Cottage, in School Lane,’ she answered his question.
An extraordinary series of expressions flitted across his face. For a moment he looked almost disconcerted; but then it settled into friendly interest.
‘So that’s it!’ he said. ‘I heard someone had, of course. And now I come to think of it, I’d even heard your name mentioned. I
thought
it was familiar for some reason.’ Chewy, having done the round of the patrons in the bar, came back to them at that moment, and jabbed a wet nose into their spare hands in greeting. Jack looked down, and then said, ‘But tell me about how you found Chewy. All the details, please.’
It seemed to Kate almost like a change of subject, but she was happy to oblige. He was a good listener, and interpolated the right questions at the right moment to allow her to make the most of the narrative. She finished with Chewy running away without thanking her, and vowing to buy herself a big penknife when she was next in Taunton.
Jack looked in concern
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