Falling for you

deliberately planned this, not really deliberately. If Norris had been skipping along like a spring chicken, more than happy to set off back home, then that’s what they would have done. But seeing as he was on his last legs and clearly desperate for a drink, well, it would be cruel to deprive him. And where was the harm, anyway, in knocking on Pauline McKinnon’s front door to ask for a bowl of water? The advantage of calling on someone who was a recluse was that they were bound to be home. She could talk to Mrs McKinnon, casually ask her how Kerr was doing these days, maybe hear some news about him.

And if the woman was so reclusive she refused to answer the door, Kate remembered there had been a decorative stone water trough and a small pond to the side of the house, years ago. Since they were unlikely to have been removed, Norris could still have a drink.

Norris groaned when she attempted to pull him to his feet. Bending over, Kate hauled him up into her arms — God, he weighed a ton, it was like carrying the world’s fattest baby — and headed up the bumpy, weed-strewn driveway.

Her heart leaped into her mouth as she rounded the last bend and saw the car parked on the gravel. A gleaming midnight-blue Mercedes — surely this was the one that had passed her that day on Gypsy Lane. Oh good grief, Kerr must actually be here now, in the house, visiting his mother .. .

With adrenalin swooshing through her body — whether it was due to terror or excitement she couldn’t tell — Kate clumsily shifted her hold on Norris, freeing one of her hands just enough to be able to comb her fingers frantically through her hair and rub the beads of perspiration from her upper lip. She really hadn’t been expecting this, but was it such a bad thing to have happened? Maybe it was fate bringing them together today, maybe they were meant to meet again and when Kerr saw her he wouldn’t even notice her scars .. .

OK, so maybe that was a fantasy too far, not even Stevie Wonder could fail to notice these scars, but Kerr would see them and instantly, magically, dismiss them because she was all that mattered, her personality was what was important and he didn’t give a toss about physical imperfections.

Shit, shit, shit. Kate ground to an abrupt halt. Having ventured another twenty yards up the drive she was now able to see a second car parked behind Kerr’s Mercedes. A silver Saab.

A silver Saab, silver Saab — the wheels were clicking in Kate’s brain. She’d seen it before, parked in the Main Street outside — God, outside Jake Harvey’s workshop. But this made no sense. Why would it be parked here now? Either Pauline McKinnon had just died and Jake was measuring her up for one of his bespoke coffins or Jake and Kerr were gay, conducting a furtive homosexual affair.

Creeping up the driveway, taking care not to crunch the gravel, Kate lowered her face to Norris’s fat neck and shushed him before he could even think of betraying her with a bark.

Approaching the house, she veered away from the front door and headed over to the long sash windows of the sitting room. Her pulse was thundering now, crashing against her ribs. If the silver Saab belonged to Jake, what on earth could he be doing here?

Breathing shallowly, Kate reached the sitting-room window at last. Clutching Norris tightly in her arms, she half knelt, half crouched in the untended flowerbed and peered inside.

What she saw made her cry out in disbelief.

The sitting room was empty but the house was narrow, longer than it was broad, with a clear view, via the two sets of windows at the front and back of the house, through to the back garden.

And there was Kerr, not with Jake Harvey at all, but with Maddy.

With with Maddy, that much was self-evident. Feeling as though she’d been punched in the stomach, Kate realised that what she was seeing here was a couple who were, without question, a couple.

Maddy was wearing a pink bikini. She lay on her front on a green and blue striped rug, smiling at something Kerr said as he massaged suncream into her back. Suddenly twisting round and seizing the bottle of Evian at her side, she squirted water at Kerr. He in turn grabbed her, pinning her down and tickling her until she shrieked for mercy. Still rooted to the spot, Kate watched him kiss Maddy, and Maddy’s arms winding round his neck. Kerr, wearing only dark glasses and a pair of white shorts, was as tanned and athletically constructed as she remembered. His hands were roaming over Maddy’s back .. . God, it was almost impossible to take in, Kerr McKinnon and Maddy Harvey, cavorting together in the garden.

More to the point, where was Pauline McKinnon while all this was going on?

Stunned, but realising that she could hardly stroll round to the back of the house and ask them, Kate slipped away from the window and headed back down the driveway. Norris weighed a ton but she didn’t dare put him down. Spotting the lily-strewn pond, he began to whimper pathetically, but Kate ignored him. Maddy and Kerr. It was unbelievable; surely Marcella couldn’t know about this.

Feeling hotter and wearier than ever, Kate reached the bottom of the drive and unceremoniously plonked Norris down on all fours. Norris promptly lay down in the road and closed his eyes, tongue lolling and baggy jowls drooping in defeat.

So much for being offered a lift home by Kerr McKinnon. With a sigh, Kate pulled out her mobile and called a taxi company to come and pick them up.

At nine thirty on Sunday morning, Dexter Nevin was outside the Fallen Angel watering his hanging baskets when he heard footsteps coming down the road. Swivelling round on his ladder, he saw the answer to his prayers heading along the Main Street towards him.

Well, let’s face it, he was desperate.

‘Morning.’ Dexter’s mouth twitched at the look of disdain Kate shot him. Her face might be less than perfect but she had an enviable figure, he’d say that much for her; in low-slung khaki cargo pants and a tiny white cropped top, she moved like a catwalk model. Lithe, that was the word he was after.

Maybe even slinky. Shame about the stroppy manner, but beggars couldn’t afford to be choosers.

‘Morning.’ Kate’s reply was cool.

She was on her way to the shop, Dexter guessed, to pick up the Sunday papers.

‘You know, I could do you a favour.’

That stopped her in her tracks.

‘Sorry?’ said Kate suspiciously.