Stanley looked startled. ‘Three can play crib, you know.’
Beth sent Walter an apologetic smile. ‘I haven’t played board games for ages. Let me ease myself in slowly with a nice game of Cluedo – if those ladies will have me – and I promise I’ll give cribbage a go next time.’
And with that, she shot off, feeling Walter and Stanley’s gaze following her.
But when she neared the table where the ladies were about to begin their game, her courage failed her and she swerved off in the direction of the loos that she’d noticed on the way into the community centre (at her age it was always wise to know where the nearest toilet was), and she hurriedly inside.
When she emerged, the first thing she noticed was that Walter was sitting on his own. The second was that the cribbage board had disappeared and in its place was another game.Cluedo.
‘Stanley’s gone to fetch us some tea,’ Walter said. ‘When he comes back, how about a nice game of Cluedo?’
Beth could have kissed him.
Bingo. Ugh. Walter surveyed the community hall with suspicion. Roughly fifteen tables were laid out with four or so chairs at each. At the far end of the room, on the stage, was another table with a round black basket containing a number of white balls, and a microphone. Behind it, and off to the side, was a secondtable displaying a variety of objects. It reminded him of a raffle table.
Walter had never played bingo in his life and, seeing the avaricious faces of the people gathered there, he wasn’t sure he wanted to start now.
‘Ooh, you can win a fish and chip supper, or a bottle of sherry,’ Beth said, spying the table of prizes. ‘I’m partial to a glass of sherry.’ She smacked her lips.
Walter preferred beer, or whisky, if he was forced to choose something stronger.
Lowering himself into a chair, he studied the bingo card.
What he didn’t like about bingo was the element of luck. There appeared to be no skill involved whatsoever, but remembering Beth telling him not to knock it until he tried it, he decided to keep an open mind. After all, he had enjoyed playing Cluedo the other day – although, he hadn’t enjoyed Stanley being part of the game. Stanley was too suave for Walter’s liking. Or wouldsmarmybe a better description?
Stanley thought he was the bee’s knees. He had always been the same. Walter remembered him from school, and the girls had fallen over him then. The man had had two wives, one deceased and one divorced, and Walter suspected he was on the lookout for number three. Walter hoped Stanley hadn’t set his sights on Beth. She was too good for the likes of Stanley Childs.
As the thought went through Walter’s head, he was pulled up short.
A week ago, he would have been happy for Stanley to go gunning after Beth. He probably would have thought they deserved each other.
But not now. When it came to Beth, Walter had undergone a seismic shift. And it had taken another man’s interest in her to make him realise that he actually liked her.Likednottolerated.
Well, well, well… That was a turn-up for the books, he thought. In fact, he felt quite proprietorial over her, and he didn’t want to see her get hurt. Stanley was a user, a player, a ladies’ man. Beth deserved better.
Beth heard the sound of the shower going and she smiled. The little plastic stool she had found in the charity shop in the village had been perfect for Walter to sit in in the cubicle. It was a bit on the low side, but she’d made him practice getting up from it before he’d given it a go in the shower. He still needed help waterproofing his cast though, because he couldn’t quite reach to put a plastic bag over it. Unlike Beth, who was quite flexible for her age, Walter was as stiff as a board.
However, Beth had a plan to do something about that, and as soon as he was dressed and downstairs, she would put that plan into action.
They were going to Dulcie’s for Sunday lunch (Beth was looking forward to seeing everyone), but they had a couple of hours before they needed to leave and she intended to use the time wisely.
‘Armchair yoga,’ she announced, when Walter appeared in the living room.
‘Is this another one of your hair-brained activities?’ Walter was smiling, so she didn’t take offence.
‘This one is for your benefit, not mine,’ she retorted. ‘I’m bendy enough. See?’ She bent over, touching the carpet with her fingers. There was a time when she used to be able to put her palms flat on the floor, but that had been before she’d had the kids. Nowadays, her tummy got in the way and her boobs threatened to unbalance her.
When she straightened up, Walter’s eyes were on stalks. ‘Please tell me you’re not expecting me to touch my toes,’ he begged.
‘Not straight away, but eventually you should be able to. And when your cast is off, you’ll find it much easier to bend and stretch.’
Walter stared at her, and she realised she wouldn’t be living here when the cast was removed. That’s what they were working towards, wasn’t it – him managing on his own and her moving back in with Dulcie (or into her own house, if the repairs were completed). But, oddly enough, that goal no longer seemed as imperative as it had when she had agreed to move into the cottage on Muddypuddle Lane.
Aside from those first few days when she had wished she was anywhere but here, Beth had settled into life in Walter’s house surprisingly well. She thought they muddled along together quite nicely now. They still bickered a bit, but nowhere near as badly as they used to. She would miss the place when she left. Without her realising it, the cottage had gradually come to feel like home. But what was even more surprising (disturbing, actually) was that she would miss Walter. Unbeknownst to him, he had provided the company she craved and, on occasion, shefelt as though they were an old married couple – without the obvious; they didn’t share a bedroom.
As Beth watched Walter expertly manoeuvre himself into his seat, something about that last thought niggled at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
Then she let out a gasp as it came to her: her and Walterin the same bed.
