Falling for you

‘I’m a bit of a one for getting lost,’ Will confided, ‘so I set off from London at nine o’clock, to give myself that extra hour to get lost in. But it was like a miracle, I got the entire journey right first time.’ He shook his head, clearly delighted with this achievement. ‘Never happened to me before. Remarkable.’

Kate’s suspicions were growing. Her father had invited this man here to stay with them. Her mother had been expecting him, but hadn’t mentioned it to her. Was Will Gifford some kind of self-help guru, hired by her parents in order to teach her that looks weren’t everything?

They certainly weren’t as far as he was concerned. The man looked like a cross between a mad scientist and a scarecrow.

Oh God, was he supposed to be her present?

Gaily, Estelle said, ‘Right then, why don’t I make us all a nice pot of tea?’

Kate waited until her mother was back inside the house before saying, ‘I still don’t know what you’re doing here.’

‘Relax, you’re looking at me like I’m a dentist.’ Will grinned and flopped down on the grass a few feet away from her.

‘Is it something to do with me?’

‘Nothing at all to do with you, crosspatch. I’m making a documentary about your father and he was kind enough to ask me to stay for a few days. Although since the idea of the programme is to see Oliver Taylor-Trent both at work and away from it, of course I’d like you to feature in the film.’

A documentary. Well, she hadn’t seen that one coming.

‘Can I say no?’

‘Of course you can say no.’

‘Good. In that case, no.’

Mildly, Will Gifford said, ‘That’s a shame. Why not?’

‘Oh please, don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed.’ Kate gazed steadily at him, hoping he’d be embarrassed.

‘Your face, you mean? Oliver told me about your accident. But I’m sorry, I don’t see how it’s relevant.’

‘OK, let me put it this way. Why on earth would I want to appear on TV, so that even more people can see my scars? Don’t you think it’s hard enough for me, just walking down the street?’

It was meant to be the ultimate riposte. Will Gifford spoiled it completely by tilting his head to one side and saying easily, ‘With dress sense like mine, you get used to it.’

If she hadn’t been lying flat on her back, Kate would have stamped her foot.

‘It’s hardly the same thing, is it? Please don’t try and compare your hideous shirts with my face —’

‘ Yoo-hoo, here we are! Dad’s home,’ sang Estelle, heading up the path with a tray of tea in her hands and Oliver Taylor-Trent following in her wake.

Despite everything, Kate felt a lump form in her throat. Being back in Ashcombe was having a weird effect on her hormones; for a split second she’d longed to scramble to her feet and hurl herself into her father’s arms. But since they weren’t a buggy family and Oliver certainly wouldn’t appreciate getting sun cream all over his Hugo Boss suit, she stood up and gave him a decorous kiss on the cheek instead. The next moment he was briskly greeting Will Gifford, while Estelle fussed around with the tea tray and attempted to tear open a packet of shortbread with her teeth.

Will, welcome to Dauncey House. I don’t think we want tea, do we? Got a bottle of something decent in the fridge, darling? We should raise a toast to an interesting and mutually profitable project ...

and Kate, maybe you’d be more comfortable slipping some clothes on?’

As ever, Oliver had taken charge of the situation, reorganising the family to his satisfaction. As Estelle rushed back inside with the no-longer-required tea and biscuits, he put his hand on Will’s frayed shirt cuff and said, ‘While we’re waiting, why don’t I show you the grounds? Afterwards you can see the rest of the house, then later on I’ll take you on a guided tour of our little town.’

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.’