motor responded. I saw Alf the porter thankfully closing up as we left the darkened station forecourt. We clanked through the silent village, my spirits on the mend.
‘Not to worry, angel,’ I reassured her. ‘I’ve a repast fit for the Queen. One of my specials.’
‘I suppose that means your sawdust pies.’
‘Pork,’ I replied, narked.
‘Custard tart for afters?’
‘Of course.’
‘Beautiful.’
I turned to say something and noticed she was laughing.
‘What’s the joke?’ I snapped.
‘Nothing.’ She was helpless with laughter.
‘Look,’ I said roughly. ‘Don’t you like my grub? Because if so you can bloody well –’
‘N – no, Lovejoy,’ she gasped, still laughing.
‘I’ve gone to a lot of trouble,’ I informed her with dignity. ‘I always do.’
‘I know, love,’ she managed to say, and held my arm as I drove. ‘It was just me. Don’t take offence.’
‘All right, then.’
She gave me a peck on the cheek.
‘Friends again?’ she asked.
‘Pals,’ I promised fervently, relieved her odd mood was over.
We held hands all the way home.
Next morning.
I was itching to have my priest-hole open to enter up a few oddments of information I’d gathered on my journey ‘the previous day, but with Sheila there I contented myself with cataloguing my tokens. One or two were quite good. I’d advertise those, priced high. The rest I’d sell through local dealers when the big tourist rush began.
She was watching me, turned on her side on the fold-out bed.
‘You love them,’ she said.
I sighed theatrically. ‘Don’t come that soul stuff.’
‘It’s obvious you do.’
‘It’s also obvious that going all misty-eyed because we had it off is pretty corny.’
She laughed again when she ought to have been put out.
‘Have you had breakfast, Lovejoy?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘What time were you up?’
‘Seven.’
‘Did you notice the bruise?’
‘What bruise?’ I felt guilty.
‘When you belted me in the bathroom the other day.’
‘Oh. About that, love.’ I didn’t look at her. ‘I’ve been meaning to say sorry. It was important, you see.’
‘A phone call?’
‘Well, yes.’ I forced justification into my voice. ‘It turned out to be vital. I admit I was a wee bit on the hasty side –’
‘Come here, Lovejoy,’ she said. I could tell she was smiling.
‘No,’ I said, concentrating.
‘Come here,’ she said again, so I did.
See what I mean about women, never giving up?
Muriel answered the door, still jumpy and drawn but as stylish as before.
‘I’m sorry to bother you again so soon,’ I apologized.
‘Why, Mr Lovejoy.’
‘I just called –’
‘Come in, please.’
‘No, thank you.’ There was no sound of cutlery in the background this time. A gardener was shifting little plants from pots into a flowerbed. ‘I thought they only did that on Easter Monday,’ I said. She looked and I saw her smile for the first time. It was enough to unsettle an honest dealer.
‘Wait. I’ll get my coat. 5
She emerged, putting a headscarf on over her coat collar.
‘You’ll remember me for ruining your day if nothing else.’ I shut the door behind her and we strolled to watch the gardener at work.
‘These days I welcome an interruption,’ she said.
‘Mrs Field –’
‘Muriel.’ She put her arm through mine. ‘Come this way and I’ll show you the pond.’ We left the house path and went between a setting of shrubberies.
‘I wish I could return the compliment.’ A woman’s arm linked with yours does wonders for your ego. I felt like the local squire.
‘Compliment?’
‘Nobody calls me anything but Lovejoy.’
She smiled and seemed glad to do it. ‘Me too?’
‘You too. Oh, one thing more.’
She looked at me, worried. ‘Yes?’
‘Cheer up, love. Nothing’s the end of the world.’
‘I suppose not.’ She was about to say more, but we came upon another elderly gardener tying those mysterious strings around plant stems.
‘Not to worry, angel,’ I reassured her. ‘I’ve a repast fit for the Queen. One of my specials.’
‘I suppose that means your sawdust pies.’
‘Pork,’ I replied, narked.
‘Custard tart for afters?’
‘Of course.’
‘Beautiful.’
I turned to say something and noticed she was laughing.
‘What’s the joke?’ I snapped.
‘Nothing.’ She was helpless with laughter.
‘Look,’ I said roughly. ‘Don’t you like my grub? Because if so you can bloody well –’
‘N – no, Lovejoy,’ she gasped, still laughing.
‘I’ve gone to a lot of trouble,’ I informed her with dignity. ‘I always do.’
‘I know, love,’ she managed to say, and held my arm as I drove. ‘It was just me. Don’t take offence.’
‘All right, then.’
She gave me a peck on the cheek.
‘Friends again?’ she asked.
‘Pals,’ I promised fervently, relieved her odd mood was over.
We held hands all the way home.
Next morning.
I was itching to have my priest-hole open to enter up a few oddments of information I’d gathered on my journey ‘the previous day, but with Sheila there I contented myself with cataloguing my tokens. One or two were quite good. I’d advertise those, priced high. The rest I’d sell through local dealers when the big tourist rush began.
She was watching me, turned on her side on the fold-out bed.
‘You love them,’ she said.
I sighed theatrically. ‘Don’t come that soul stuff.’
‘It’s obvious you do.’
‘It’s also obvious that going all misty-eyed because we had it off is pretty corny.’
She laughed again when she ought to have been put out.
‘Have you had breakfast, Lovejoy?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘What time were you up?’
‘Seven.’
‘Did you notice the bruise?’
‘What bruise?’ I felt guilty.
‘When you belted me in the bathroom the other day.’
‘Oh. About that, love.’ I didn’t look at her. ‘I’ve been meaning to say sorry. It was important, you see.’
‘A phone call?’
‘Well, yes.’ I forced justification into my voice. ‘It turned out to be vital. I admit I was a wee bit on the hasty side –’
‘Come here, Lovejoy,’ she said. I could tell she was smiling.
‘No,’ I said, concentrating.
‘Come here,’ she said again, so I did.
See what I mean about women, never giving up?
Muriel answered the door, still jumpy and drawn but as stylish as before.
‘I’m sorry to bother you again so soon,’ I apologized.
‘Why, Mr Lovejoy.’
‘I just called –’
‘Come in, please.’
‘No, thank you.’ There was no sound of cutlery in the background this time. A gardener was shifting little plants from pots into a flowerbed. ‘I thought they only did that on Easter Monday,’ I said. She looked and I saw her smile for the first time. It was enough to unsettle an honest dealer.
‘Wait. I’ll get my coat. 5
She emerged, putting a headscarf on over her coat collar.
‘You’ll remember me for ruining your day if nothing else.’ I shut the door behind her and we strolled to watch the gardener at work.
‘These days I welcome an interruption,’ she said.
‘Mrs Field –’
‘Muriel.’ She put her arm through mine. ‘Come this way and I’ll show you the pond.’ We left the house path and went between a setting of shrubberies.
‘I wish I could return the compliment.’ A woman’s arm linked with yours does wonders for your ego. I felt like the local squire.
‘Compliment?’
‘Nobody calls me anything but Lovejoy.’
She smiled and seemed glad to do it. ‘Me too?’
‘You too. Oh, one thing more.’
She looked at me, worried. ‘Yes?’
‘Cheer up, love. Nothing’s the end of the world.’
‘I suppose not.’ She was about to say more, but we came upon another elderly gardener tying those mysterious strings around plant stems.
Similar Books
