A Rural Affair

women? I shuddered. Glanced furtively at the clock. Thank God I had a date tonight. A proper one. If only I was allowed to go on the bloody thing. I had a feeling it might not be tactful to mention it under the circumstances, but the fact remained that Luke was probably even now laying the table and polishing the glasses. Meanwhile my fringe was curling horribly and in precisely ten minutes Peggy – who I’d asked instead of Luke’s sister – would be here and I wasn’t even dressed. The laundry basket was under the table and I riffled in it. Grabbed some pants and pulled them on surreptitiously under my dressing gown.

Angie narrowed her eyes, suspicious. ‘Where are you going?’

‘Nowhere, why?’

‘You’ve just put frilly pants on.’

‘Oh. I’m … just having supper with Luke, that’s all.’

‘Ooh,’ she said archly, and I had a nasty feeling the combination of baring her soul and a bottle of wine might drive her to lash out.

I braced myself, but we do, after all, choose our friends wisely and Angie had a kind heart. Her face softened.

‘Good. I’m really pleased. He’s a sweet boy.’

I relaxed, although rather wished she hadn’t added the last bit.

‘Excellent. Well, I’m glad you approve,’ I said, rallying. Wishing too for just a spot of privacy, for not living in a village where everyone knew my business. ‘And now if you wouldn’t mind buggering off, Angie,’ I said pleasantly, ‘perhaps I could get dressed as well? Not just leave it at knickers?’

She raised a smile and got to her feet, swinging her Chanel bag over her shoulder, simultaneously draining her glass.

‘Where’s he taking you?’

‘He’s, um … cooking me supper.’

Her eyes came round from her empty glass, wide and delighted. ‘Is he now? Ooh, Poppy, how exciting! No wonder you’ve got your frillies on. Are you sure you’ll need them at all?’ She threw back her head and cackled loudly.

I regarded her narrowly. ‘Thanks for that, Angie.’

‘My pleasure,’ she grinned, clearly enjoying herself now, morale somewhat restored. ‘Well, I hope it goes well. You’re so suited to each other, everyone says so. You should have got it together from the word go, which is exactly what I told him after I found him in the garden with Saintly Sue, that night at the book club.’

‘Did you now,’ I muttered. How pissed was she? Did she have to bring that up? ‘What else did you tell him?’ I asked as I hustled her towards the front door. Damn. I could hear Archie crying upstairs. I’d have to give him a bottle and Peggy would be here to sit soon. I hadn’t even dried my hair.

‘Oh, nothing else,’ she twinkled merrily, jingling her car keys – Angie lived five minutes’ walk away but always drove. ‘Although he was so sweetly concerned about how you were going to manage on your own as an impoverished widow, et cetera, that I did set his mind at rest on that score. Toodle-oo, Poppy! Have a lovely evening.’

And with that she sashayed out of the front door, hips swaying, and down the path to her car.

27

I stared at the door as it shut behind her. Remained motionless a moment, engrossed, it seemed, in the paintwork. Then I went into the sitting room, crossing to the window to watch as her car drew away from the kerb, headlights going on against the gathering darkness, faint drizzle sparkling in their beam. Across the road the Fishs’ light went on too, briefly illuminating their front room, before their curtain swished shut. Archie was still crying, his wails gaining momentum upstairs, but I seemed transfixed by the spot Angie’s car had just vacated in the road. Eventually I turned and went mechanically to the fridge for a bottle of milk; warmed it in the microwave. Well, it had probably been a slip of the tongue. And taken out of context too. I didn’t know the full extent of the conversation. I’d give her a ring in a moment, when I’d given Archie his bottle. When she’d had time to get home and put the car away. I could hear her voice on the phone now: ‘Oh no, Poppy, he was just genuinely concerned about you, about how you were going to cope, that’s all! After all, he is in finance and he probably wondered if you needed advice.’ Yes, that would be it.

When Archie’s eyes closed I laid him down; went back downstairs to the kitchen and rang Angie’s land line. But as it rang and rang, and just as I was about to try her mobile, a funny thing happened. Suddenly I wasn’t sure I wanted her reassurances, didn’t want to hear her falling over herself to assure me that I’d taken it the wrong way. I didn’t want any damage limitation, because, it occurred to me, I didn’t particularly want a reason to believe. Would be very happy without one. In fact it seemed