he states matter-of-fact. “So I’m guessing it’s a present from Logan, as you’re near as damn it living with the chap lately.” He sounds petulant and knows it but doesn’t care.
“As it happens I bought it and a few others myself,” she tells him, feeling guilty because it isn’t the whole truth. “Now, if you’ve finished your critique of my clothing I’ll get my bag and we can go.” Dresses, I should have known!
Ben goes to wait in the car. Catherine is furious with herself for not remembering she is wearing her favourite long yellow summer dress. Now she feels stupid in it and wishes she had her comfortable tops and tracky bottoms. Grabbing up her bag she leaves a note for Logan in case he gets back before she does. Christ, it’s as bad as being married .
Climbing into Ben’s car feels awkward. She doesn’t know why, she’s been in it many times and Ben is a good friend – but it just doesn’t feel right. “So where are we going for lunch?” she asks, trying to sound perky.
“Did you really buy that dress?” is Ben’s only reply.
For fucks sake!
Catherine sighs deeply. “Yes, Ben I did, and if all you’re going to talk about is this fucking dress then you can take me back now!”
But his demeanour suddenly brightens. “Actually, I fancy going to the Horse and Hound,” he states as if she hasn’t spoken, “they’ve got a lovely garden area – we can eat alfresco.”
She doesn’t actually turn to stare at him, but Catherine does eye him warily. “That sounds great,” she frowns, forcing a smile, “it’ll be nice to have a chance to sit out in this lovely weather.” Weird!
Pulling into the car park, Ben finds an empty space not too far from the front. “There we go,” he smiles as they both alight the car. Then he turns to look at Catherine. “You know, that dress really does look nice on you. You should wear them more often.”
Catherine’s inner voice is telling her that he probably wouldn’t think so if he knew that Logan had paid half for it; but decides to keep that her little secret. “Thank you. As it happens I picked up a few more at the same time, so perhaps I will.”
Considering the topic of conversation, Catherine decides that the meal has gone well. “I’m glad you don’t mind handling things for another couple of days; I knew I could rely on you,” and she genuinely feels some of the old warmth of their friendship rekindling.
“Not a problem,” Ben assures her, glad that she feels able to lean on him, “but I do wish you would trust me enough to tell me what the trouble is you’re trying to sort out – perhaps I can help?” Oh, lord, now what.
They are walking back to the car and Catherine tries to refuse his offer of help without hurting his feelings. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Ben, but if I need you I’ll get in touch.”
“Just make sure you do.” He tells her.
Back at Logan’s house, Catherine realises she can’t get in. Mrs Baines has gone home for the day and Logan is still at work. Glad that Ben has driven straight off, she settles herself on the doorstep to wait, but after half an hour decides to go for a walk in the rear grounds.
At the back of the house, the garden is glorious. Whoever designed this, she thinks while sauntering along a concealed pathway, is a bloody genius.
She finds a small pergola with established plants forming walls and a roof over an arrangement of seating. She sits and thinks about Logan, and about what they have been doing over this last week. He still isn’t convinced that Charles Llwyd, the man she overheard him talking to at Lakelands, is her mother’s murderer. Yes, he has known the man for years and he is, apparently, a happily married man - but so was Peter Sutcliffe, the latter day Jack-The-Ripper, happily married according to his wife, she reasons. It seems that, she hadn’t had a clue what he was up to either. So how could Logan be so sure?
Catherine goes over and over what they
“As it happens I bought it and a few others myself,” she tells him, feeling guilty because it isn’t the whole truth. “Now, if you’ve finished your critique of my clothing I’ll get my bag and we can go.” Dresses, I should have known!
Ben goes to wait in the car. Catherine is furious with herself for not remembering she is wearing her favourite long yellow summer dress. Now she feels stupid in it and wishes she had her comfortable tops and tracky bottoms. Grabbing up her bag she leaves a note for Logan in case he gets back before she does. Christ, it’s as bad as being married .
Climbing into Ben’s car feels awkward. She doesn’t know why, she’s been in it many times and Ben is a good friend – but it just doesn’t feel right. “So where are we going for lunch?” she asks, trying to sound perky.
“Did you really buy that dress?” is Ben’s only reply.
For fucks sake!
Catherine sighs deeply. “Yes, Ben I did, and if all you’re going to talk about is this fucking dress then you can take me back now!”
But his demeanour suddenly brightens. “Actually, I fancy going to the Horse and Hound,” he states as if she hasn’t spoken, “they’ve got a lovely garden area – we can eat alfresco.”
She doesn’t actually turn to stare at him, but Catherine does eye him warily. “That sounds great,” she frowns, forcing a smile, “it’ll be nice to have a chance to sit out in this lovely weather.” Weird!
Pulling into the car park, Ben finds an empty space not too far from the front. “There we go,” he smiles as they both alight the car. Then he turns to look at Catherine. “You know, that dress really does look nice on you. You should wear them more often.”
Catherine’s inner voice is telling her that he probably wouldn’t think so if he knew that Logan had paid half for it; but decides to keep that her little secret. “Thank you. As it happens I picked up a few more at the same time, so perhaps I will.”
Considering the topic of conversation, Catherine decides that the meal has gone well. “I’m glad you don’t mind handling things for another couple of days; I knew I could rely on you,” and she genuinely feels some of the old warmth of their friendship rekindling.
“Not a problem,” Ben assures her, glad that she feels able to lean on him, “but I do wish you would trust me enough to tell me what the trouble is you’re trying to sort out – perhaps I can help?” Oh, lord, now what.
They are walking back to the car and Catherine tries to refuse his offer of help without hurting his feelings. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Ben, but if I need you I’ll get in touch.”
“Just make sure you do.” He tells her.
Back at Logan’s house, Catherine realises she can’t get in. Mrs Baines has gone home for the day and Logan is still at work. Glad that Ben has driven straight off, she settles herself on the doorstep to wait, but after half an hour decides to go for a walk in the rear grounds.
At the back of the house, the garden is glorious. Whoever designed this, she thinks while sauntering along a concealed pathway, is a bloody genius.
She finds a small pergola with established plants forming walls and a roof over an arrangement of seating. She sits and thinks about Logan, and about what they have been doing over this last week. He still isn’t convinced that Charles Llwyd, the man she overheard him talking to at Lakelands, is her mother’s murderer. Yes, he has known the man for years and he is, apparently, a happily married man - but so was Peter Sutcliffe, the latter day Jack-The-Ripper, happily married according to his wife, she reasons. It seems that, she hadn’t had a clue what he was up to either. So how could Logan be so sure?
Catherine goes over and over what they
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