Rumours by Freya North

‘People are holding on to their pennies. Anyway, I heard it was more to do with politics within the committee.’
    â€˜That wretched bouncing castle monstrosity?’
    Xander laughed. ‘And the rest.’
    â€˜Personally,’ said Lydia, ‘ I blame all that shopping people do nowadays on those computers. It’s an obsession and, if you ask me, absolutely unnecessary! All those supermarket vans double parking along the high street and all those delivery companies doing the postman out of a job. More tea?’
    â€˜Please.’ He offered his cup because Lydia liked to pour and she wouldn’t tolerate people stretching. ‘How are things here?’ He looked around – it looked the same, but Longbridge was so much more than the house itself. ‘I hear Mr Tringle made a good recovery – pneumonia is no laughing matter, especially not at his age.’
    â€˜I’ve always thought, if they dropped one of those nuclear bombs, he’d be the one creaking his way out of the debris. Extraordinary chap, really.’
    â€˜How about the barns?’ asked Xander. ‘Did you get anywhere with the planners?’
    Lydia looked a little uncomfortable. ‘I’m just going to have to let them crumble – it’s too much work and too much money. And Xander, how are
you
? Are you any closer to marrying?’
    Xander stirred his tea thoughtfully, despite not taking sugar. ‘No.’
    â€˜Are you one of the gays?’
    â€˜No, Lydia. I’m not.’
    She raised her eyebrow, archly. ‘I’ve heard people talking.’
    â€˜Talking?’
    â€˜Village tittle-tattle.’
    â€˜And you listen to it?’
    â€˜Sometimes I like to remember dear Alice Roosevelt who used to say,
if you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me.
’
    â€˜And people are saying I’m not nice?’
    â€˜Well, if you won’t provide the real story of Laura – then the only option you give them is to rumour.’
    â€˜Whatever the gossip is,’ said Xander, ‘it’s probably far more salacious and entertaining than the reality. I don’t care what people say about me.’
    â€˜If you’re sure you haven’t joined the gays – perhaps you’ve become a playboy?’ Lydia chuckled. ‘A cad?’ She laughed. ‘A gigolo?’ And she pronounced it with hard ‘g’s.
    Xander shrugged – coming from Lydia, none of this irritated him. ‘I haven’t met the right girl, Lady Lydia.’
    â€˜But you’re having lots of fun with all the wrong ones, for the time being?’
    He loved it when Lydia turned saucy.
    â€˜Your mother must be
so
proud.’ She paused. ‘I bet your mother doesn’t know the half of it.’
    â€˜I sincerely hope not,’ said Xander.
    â€˜Are you a two-timer?’ She said it as if it was some modern phrase she wasn’t entirely sure she was using correctly.
    â€˜No, Lydia, I’m not. I just don’t invest much time, or importance, in –
relationships
,’ Xander said, as if it was a word whose meaning he was unsure of. He loosened his tie, feeling hot under the collar.
    â€˜I hope you’re a gentleman,’ Lydia said sternly.
    â€˜I’ve never made a girl cry,’ Xander said, with a theatricality that had Lydia chuckling.
    â€˜I’m sure your Laura shed a tear or two over you. I know your mother did, at the time.’
    â€˜That was well over two years ago.’
    Lydia could see Xander’s discomfort. ‘I always said you should have tracked her down sooner. Said sorry with something sparkly from Garrard’s.’
    â€˜Lydia – she moved to the States and she’s married. You
know
this.’
    â€˜More fool you.’
    â€˜I have no regrets.’ The Chelsea bun was sticking in this throat.
    â€˜You’re a
catch
, young man. An eligible bachelor. You