Falling for you

‘He said you’d tripped on your dressing gown and fallen down the stairs,’ said Maddy. She stopped, regarding Nuala gravely. ‘Is that true?’

‘Why wouldn’t it be true?’ Mystified, Nuala said, ‘My dressing gown’s too big for me. I got the hem caught under my foot and went flying. Poor Dexter, gave him the shock of his life! Oh, but he was so sweet, looking after me and carrying me to the car. He even had to put my knickers on for me because I couldn’t reach past my—’

‘Nuala, listen. This is me. We’re friends, aren’t we? You can tell me.’ Maddy gave her a meaningful look.

‘Tell you what?’

‘ Look at yourself. Black eye, bruised forehead, cracked collarbone. Come on now,’ said Maddy, her tone supportive.

Realisation finally dawned. Nuala’s eyebrows shot up as if she’d been electrocuted.

‘My God, I don’t believe it, you think Dexter did this to me! You actually think he gave me a black eye and chucked me down the stairs!’

‘Didn’t he?’ said Maddy.

‘Of course he didn’t!’ Her voice rising in disbelief, Nuala tried to stamp her foot and flinched as the sudden movement jarred her shoulder. ‘I can’t believe it even crossed your mind. Dexter’s never laid a finger on me, he’d never hurt me!’ Shaking her head – ooch, more pain – she said, ‘And you have to believe me, because I swear to God that’s the truth. You can strap me to one of those lie detectors if you want—’

‘OK, OK.’ Maddy nodded, to show she believed her. ‘I’m sorry. I just had to ask.’

They’d reached the car. Carefully, Nuala climbed into the passenger seat.

‘But why? Why would you even think that?’ Even as the words came out, deep down Nuala already knew the answer. Oh Lord, did this mean everyone in Ashcombe was going to think Dexter had beaten her up?

‘Well, you and Dexter ... the way he is ... I mean, you just said he’d never hurt you.’ Maddy could be horribly blunt when she wanted. ‘But he does sometimes, doesn’t he? Maybe not physically, but verbally. When he calls you a lazy lump or a fat-arsed camel. You can’t tell me you enjoy it.’

Her cheeks flaming, Nuala said defensively, ‘He does it to everyone, that’s just Dexter’s way.

When we’re on our own he’s lovely to me—’

‘Wrong. No.’ Maddy was shaking her head. ‘He doesn’t do it to everyone. He’s brusque, he’s sarcastic, he can be downright cantankerous, but he doesn’t verbally abuse the rest of us. Only you, because he knows he can get away with it. And a man who treats you like that in public – well, you can’t blame us for wondering what else he might do when the two of you are on your own.’

Nuala gazed blindly out of the side window, hot with shame. Everyone was going to assume she was a battered girlfriend. With a shudder, she imagined the regulars in the pub eyeing each other meaningfully, muttering behind their hands, watching her and Dexter and drawing their own wrong conclusions every time he came out with one of his mock derogatory remarks.

‘I’ll talk to him about it,’ she said. ‘Tell him he has to stop, you know, saying those things.’

Maddy drove out of the car park. ‘Right, you do that.’ She sounded horribly unconvinced.

‘I will. Don’t give me one of your looks,’ Nuala protested. ‘God, I’m not going to be able to work for weeks.’ She plucked gingerly at her sling. ‘How’s Dexter going to manage without me in the pub?’

‘Grumpily, I’d imagine.’ Swinging round a corner, Maddy said, ‘He’s already asked me if I’ll help out tonight.’

‘Really? And are you?’

‘No chance. I’ve already made plans.’

‘Great.’ Mischievously Nuala said, ‘Can I come along with you?’

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Maddy’s mouth. ‘How can I put this? Not a chance in the world.’

Chapter 21

‘Come on, you stupid animal.’ Kate tugged at Norris’s lead as he dawdled along like a recalcitrant toddler. It was Saturday afternoon, the temperature had shot up into the nineties and she was beginning to regret this attempt at a longer than usual walk.

Since embarking on a keep-fit plan for Norris, they had done their best to restrict his eating, but last night he had wolfed down an entire Dundee cake that had been carelessly left out in the kitchen by Estelle. Today, in an effort to work off a few of the ten thousand or so calories he had guzzled in ninety seconds flat, Kate had changed into jeans and trainers and resolved to bring him out on the equivalent of a doggie marathon. Leaving the village behind them, they had set out along Ashcombe Lane, the hilly, winding road that would eventually take them into Bath. Not that they’d get that far, but at least the scenery was spectacular and it made a change from endlessly circling Ashcombe itself.

Feeling like an American sergeant major harassing the latest unfit arrival at boot camp, Kate chivvied Norris past a promising clump of creamy white cow parsley – he could spend forever searching for the perfect place to pee – and dragged him on up the hill. Huffing and grunting in protest, Norris waddled more slowly than ever. Honestly, at this rate ants would be overtaking them.

‘Not much further,’ said Kate, pushing her hair back from her face as they reached the brow of the hill and the wall of trees ahead of them came into sight. ‘Norris, you really are hopeless, it hasn’t even been two miles yet.’

By the time they reached the entrance to Hillview, Norris had had more than enough. When Kate stopped walking he sank down onto the grass verge with a grunt of relief. The road was deserted in both directions. The sun blazed relentlessly down. Norris’s tongue, attractively, was lolling sideways out of his mouth.

‘Two miles,’ Kate told him. ‘Well done, you. One day you’ll have more muscles than Schwarzenegger.’

Then, turning, she gazed once more at the battered sign, half hidden by ivy. She hadn’t