The Colonel and His Daughter by Teresa Ashby

phone down. He looked up guiltily.
    “I’ve called the engagement off,” he said.
    “Oh,” Diana said, reaching down to pat Wellington’s head. He was so good with her, it was almost as if he knew she was pregnant and that he had to be extra gentle.
    “Is that all you can say, oh?”
    “What do you want me to say, Dad? I’m disappointed and poor Trudy will be heartbroken. You’ll never have a chance like this again. But it’s your life. Now I’m going upstairs for a nap. I feel so very tired.”
    Her father looked shocked. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Naps. At her age. What ailed the girl?
    Upstairs, Diana paced her bedroom floor. She was tired, that was true, but she couldn’t sleep for worrying. Why on earth had her father decided to start playing silly beggars?
    She looked at the phone. Maybe Bill would know.
    Call him? Should she?
    He sounded out of breath. He must have rushed all the way back to the pub and only just have walked in the door.
    “I must see you, Bill,” she said.
    “If only you knew how I longed to hear you say that,” Bill said. Then his tone darkened and he added, “But I think I know why. And it isn’t to do with us, is it? Come out for dinner tonight? They can manage in the pub without me. What do you say?”
    What could she say?
    She said yes, then went back downstairs.
    “I have to talk to you, Dad,” she said.
    He crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air.
    “Me mind is made up,” he said. “The engagement’s orf.”
    “That’s what you think,” she murmured. “But that’s not what I want to talk to you about. The fact is . . . the fact is . . .”
    Come on, girl, spit it out, she told herself. Just say it. Out with it. The Colonel will appreciate frankness and honesty.
    “The fact is . . .”
    “Yes?” The Colonel wiped the stubborn, haughty look off his face and suddenly concern took its place.
    “I’m going out for dinner with Bill,” she said lamely and the sly old fox gave her a sideways grin.
     “Frog and Dumpling Bill?”
    “So will you stop being silly and call Trudy?”
    “No can do,” he said sadly. Then he perked up again. “Off out for dinner with Bill, eh?”

    Trudy cried into her tea. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way. It wasn’t as if it was a real engagement that Potts had called off, but she felt as if her heart was broken.
    As he said, now Bernard had gone there was no further need to continue with the deception and it was their ideal out. A way of escaping from the situation they’d found themselves in. And hopefully in their attempts to get them back together, Diana and Bill would get together themselves and then everyone could go back to normal.
    She’d tried to persuade him to wait a little longer, but he reckoned they should seize the opportunity offered them.
    Potts had rung again a little while ago to tell her the news that Diana had gone out for dinner with Bill. He was so happy, so over the moon that she felt duty bound to sound delighted and not in the least little bit upset.
    Which she wasn’t of course. These tears were just, well silly.
    And she was very glad that Diana had taken the news so well. Perhaps she’d been deceiving herself into thinking that they had to keep the pretence going for Diana’s sake.
    She was sitting on her small sofa with Roger curled up beside her, his heavy head resting in her lap, his beautiful big eyes gazing up at her.
    “What’s wrong with me, Roger?” she asked as she clattered her cup back in its saucer. “Did I get too caught up in the moment do you think?”
    Roger sighed.
    “When did I forget to think of it as pretend?” she said sadly.
    Well, she’d have to face the public sooner or later. Everyone was going to know that the romance that had captivated the entire village was off. Best if she broke the news to the vicar first and as it was Monday, he’d be holding choir practice in the church.
    And as there was no time like the present . . .
    She donned her