get any messages.’ Now I was even more confused.
‘Then you must have thought me very rude.’
‘Not at all. Just assumed you were busy. How stupid. I must have written your number down wrong – you’d better give it to me again. What a shame. It would have been great if you’d been there, and everyone missed you and wondered where you were.’
Written my number down wrong? But I’d written it down myself in her book, the inside cover of Rebecca. And what about the messages I’d left on her phone?
‘What’s this?’ Dan didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, nor could he have guessed at the subtext going on.
‘Ellie organized for a group of girls to go to the cinema on
Thursday night –’
‘. . . and it was such a pity you didn’t get the messages,’ she interrupted.
‘Perhaps you forgot to charge your phone again, sweetheart.’ He turned to Ellie, ‘She does that, often. It can be really difficult to get hold of her.’
I turned my face away from Dan to hide my frown. Having a go at me about my phone-charging habits was not helpful right now. And there was still the fact that she’d told the girls she was worried about me, that I was feeling ‘low’. I suppose it was possible that Amelia had misheard her.
I started to unpack the box of produce I’d brought back from the farmers’ market: a wilting pile of red and green oak-leaved lettuces and some fat broad beans.
‘God, did you grow those yourself? You’re so clever . . .’
‘I sell them at the village market. You should go – it’s the third
Saturday in the month.’
‘What a pity I missed it,’ she said. ‘I’d love to have bought some home-grown veg like this.’
‘I’ll get you a bag,’ I said. ‘You can take some home.’ A couple of earwigs escaped onto the table and the dog pricked up its ears, obviously hoping they might provide free-range elevenses. I scooped them into my hand and chucked them out of the open window. I think I caught Ellie shuddering, but she chatted on, gamely.
‘I was going stir crazy locked up in the house with just Coco and the computer for company. I felt I had to escape . . . and Dan sweetly asked me in, for coffee. I so love your house. I loved it from the outside, of course, but it’s got so much character inside. Dan’s been telling me all about how you found it.’ I glanced at Dan, and saw that his eyes were glued on Ellie, no doubt appreciating the aesthetics; the shampoo-ad hair, the short, peppermint green cotton dress, the little-girl sugar pink cardigan draped over her skinny shoulders and, of course, those long brown legs ending in the cool All Stars. She would have looked perfect on the cover of Country Living .
‘It was a complete wreck.’ I swept my eyes around the crumbling beams, the flaking plaster, the uneven flagstones. ‘Still is.’
‘I think it’s utterly charming,’ Ellie said.
Coco jumped down from Dan’s lap and came over to me to sniff my shoes. Both Ellie and Dan watched as my feet became the centre of attention.
There was an awkward silence which I felt I needed to fill. ‘Dan, they’ve put the new wood-burner in the village hall, ready for the whist drive next weekend. It’s all very smart. They’ve even got a club fender, and they’ve found one of those old wheeled laundry baskets for the logs. It’s all terribly chic.’
Dan snorted unkindly. ‘Village hall and chic . . . Hmm, bit of an oxymoron, I’m afraid –’
‘That sounds really sweet’ Ellie interrupted ‘What is a whist drive? It’s the kind of thing I remember maiden aunts used to talk about.’
‘Yes . . . what an enticing picture that conjures up,’ Dan sneered.
‘Well, to be honest, I don’t really know what it is either. But I just feel we’re lucky to have the hall, and we should support it.’
‘I’m all for supporting it if they put on something worth going to. So far we’ve had a Bridge and Scrabble night and a Promise Auction in aid of the local
‘Then you must have thought me very rude.’
‘Not at all. Just assumed you were busy. How stupid. I must have written your number down wrong – you’d better give it to me again. What a shame. It would have been great if you’d been there, and everyone missed you and wondered where you were.’
Written my number down wrong? But I’d written it down myself in her book, the inside cover of Rebecca. And what about the messages I’d left on her phone?
‘What’s this?’ Dan didn’t have a clue what we were talking about, nor could he have guessed at the subtext going on.
‘Ellie organized for a group of girls to go to the cinema on
Thursday night –’
‘. . . and it was such a pity you didn’t get the messages,’ she interrupted.
‘Perhaps you forgot to charge your phone again, sweetheart.’ He turned to Ellie, ‘She does that, often. It can be really difficult to get hold of her.’
I turned my face away from Dan to hide my frown. Having a go at me about my phone-charging habits was not helpful right now. And there was still the fact that she’d told the girls she was worried about me, that I was feeling ‘low’. I suppose it was possible that Amelia had misheard her.
I started to unpack the box of produce I’d brought back from the farmers’ market: a wilting pile of red and green oak-leaved lettuces and some fat broad beans.
‘God, did you grow those yourself? You’re so clever . . .’
‘I sell them at the village market. You should go – it’s the third
Saturday in the month.’
‘What a pity I missed it,’ she said. ‘I’d love to have bought some home-grown veg like this.’
‘I’ll get you a bag,’ I said. ‘You can take some home.’ A couple of earwigs escaped onto the table and the dog pricked up its ears, obviously hoping they might provide free-range elevenses. I scooped them into my hand and chucked them out of the open window. I think I caught Ellie shuddering, but she chatted on, gamely.
‘I was going stir crazy locked up in the house with just Coco and the computer for company. I felt I had to escape . . . and Dan sweetly asked me in, for coffee. I so love your house. I loved it from the outside, of course, but it’s got so much character inside. Dan’s been telling me all about how you found it.’ I glanced at Dan, and saw that his eyes were glued on Ellie, no doubt appreciating the aesthetics; the shampoo-ad hair, the short, peppermint green cotton dress, the little-girl sugar pink cardigan draped over her skinny shoulders and, of course, those long brown legs ending in the cool All Stars. She would have looked perfect on the cover of Country Living .
‘It was a complete wreck.’ I swept my eyes around the crumbling beams, the flaking plaster, the uneven flagstones. ‘Still is.’
‘I think it’s utterly charming,’ Ellie said.
Coco jumped down from Dan’s lap and came over to me to sniff my shoes. Both Ellie and Dan watched as my feet became the centre of attention.
There was an awkward silence which I felt I needed to fill. ‘Dan, they’ve put the new wood-burner in the village hall, ready for the whist drive next weekend. It’s all very smart. They’ve even got a club fender, and they’ve found one of those old wheeled laundry baskets for the logs. It’s all terribly chic.’
Dan snorted unkindly. ‘Village hall and chic . . . Hmm, bit of an oxymoron, I’m afraid –’
‘That sounds really sweet’ Ellie interrupted ‘What is a whist drive? It’s the kind of thing I remember maiden aunts used to talk about.’
‘Yes . . . what an enticing picture that conjures up,’ Dan sneered.
‘Well, to be honest, I don’t really know what it is either. But I just feel we’re lucky to have the hall, and we should support it.’
‘I’m all for supporting it if they put on something worth going to. So far we’ve had a Bridge and Scrabble night and a Promise Auction in aid of the local
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