Alice laughed. “Yes, he’s unbent a bit, hasn’t he? That makes me happy, too.”
“I’m not quite sure how to deal with him, to be honest.” She let out a little laugh. “I really am delighted for you both. Honestly. It’s so wonderful to see…” She didn’t exactly know how to finish that sentence, and so she stopped, only to see to her horror that Alice Trent was looking at her with something like pity. Did she feel sorry for her, so clearly on her own, solitude radiating from her the way happiness was from Alice? Perhaps Henry had said something. My poor secretary, darling. She’s got absolutely no social life at all…
Emily’s cheeks warmed as the moment spun out and then, thankfully, was broken by the rumble of tyres on gravel outside.
“That must be the moving truck,” Alice said with a bright look. “Let me help you move your things in.”
“Oh, you don’t…” Emily began, but Alice was already out the door. Heaven help well-meaning neighbours. The last thing she wanted was Alice bringing boxes in, reading the labels on the top, asking brightly about things she had no need of knowing. And then unpacking them, touching all her things, putting them in the wrong place, heavens…
Emily walked quickly out the door. The truck had pulled right up in front of the cottage, and the burly driver and his equally impressive colleague were already opening the back and starting to unload. Clearly they were on the clock, which suited Emily fine.
“The boxes are marked by room,” she said. “If you can put them in the right places?”
“Sure thing, love.” The driver gave her a nod and a wink. “How about a cuppa?”
“Oh…right. Yes.” Fortunately she’d put some of the most essential kitchen things in her car, a ridiculous rental that Henry had arranged, thinking she’d enjoyed zipping about the country lanes in a navy-blue convertible Mini, the top down to the spring breeze.
And in truth, Emily sometimes wished she was the sort of person who would enjoy that—the hedgerows blurring by, the wind in her hair. But the reality was that she was definitely a sensible sedan sort of girl, and driving the Mini from London to the Cotswolds had made her feel both uncomfortable and nervous, especially after she’d googled “convertible safety concerns” at a rest stop.
Still, she was here, she’d made it, and she’d return the car tomorrow even though Henry said she could have it for the week. Since she’d be working at the manor and there was a train station in the village, she hoped she wouldn’t need a car anyway.
“Do you want to me to make the tea so you can supervise the movers?” Alice asked as Emily brought the box with the kitchen stuff back into the cottage. She looked so eager to be helpful, so very hopeful, that Emily almost relented.
“Thank you, but I think I’ve got it in hand,” she said as firmly as she could without being rude. “I don’t have that much stuff, anyway. I doubt it will take long. But you’ve really been so kind.”
“Oh…” There was no mistaking Alice’s disappointment, and Emily’s stomach curdled with guilt. She wasn’t trying to be mean, honestly; she just…liked to do things on her own. She needed to.
“Thank you, though,” Emily said yet again. “You’ve been very kind.”
“It’s no trouble at all. And I wanted to let you know that you’re invited to come up to the big house for supper tonight,” Alice answered, rallying once more, with cheerful determination. “Nothing fancy—just a kitchen supper. Shepherd’s pie. You’re not vegetarian…?”
Emily’s smile was starting to feel fixed. “No, I’m not.”
“Well, Henry insists that you come. He wants to welcome you properly. He was busy this afternoon, meeting some potential donors, but I know he wants to see you tonight, check in with how you’re settling.”
“That’s very kind,” Emily said after a second’s pause. As everything else was. Why did Alice have to be so bloody kind? And Henry, as well? She knew she couldn’t say no to her boss, although she dreaded the prospect of making chitchat with Henry or Alice over what would surely be an interminable, if delicious, supper.
Her relationship with her employer had worked because they’d both been efficient, uninterested in niceties. Henry had appreciated her brisk manner, and she’d appreciated his taciturn one, as well as the fact he’d had zero interest in her as a person. Since his marriage, and now his move, that seemed as if it might change, and Emily wasn’t sure she could deal with that on top of everything else.
“I do hope you’ll like it here,” Alice persisted. “I know it’s not as busy as London—that’s a huge understatement, obviously—but people are so friendly. When you’ve settled in, you must come over for one of our girly evenings with Ava and Ellie, Harriet and Olivia… Ellie used to live in this cottage, with her daughter Abby. She’s married to Oliver now and they’ve moved out towards Oxford, but she still comes in for our get-togethers. And Harriet was in number two but she and Richard have moved to the other side of the village. Then Ava’s with Jace, in the gatekeeper’s cottage… She has the sweetest little boy, William.” For a second Alice looked wistful. “And Olivia runs a bakery and teashop in town, and she’s dating Simon, a music teacher at the primary. They’re all such fun. You won’t be lonely here, I promise you. There will always be people around, to help, to chat, to have a laugh with. It really is the loveliest place to live.”
Emily blinked, taking in all the names, all the socialising. “That does sound lovely,” she said with the same sense of inevitable duty and dread that she’d accepted the dinner invitation. Since Alice hadn’t set a date for the “girly evening”—shudder—she could certainly back out later.
“Okay.” Alice looked around the empty cottage, the movers already stacking boxes by the French windows. “I suppose I’ll go,
