Sadie’s ears pricked up. ‘McDonald’s? Really?’ She jumped up and down, flapping her arms. ‘Yay! McDonald’s!’
Beatrice said, ‘Anyone would think I never fed them. Actually, they don’t have fast food often, so maybe it is something to get excited about. For them, not me, you understand.’ She handed him her keys and went back inside, her bouncy, excited daughter racing ahead of her.
After fifteen minutes or so of the car being on charge, he disconnected the leads then tried it again. Reluctantly, itcoughed into life, so he left it running, just in case, and knocked on her door.
‘All done,’ he said, stepping back when Sadie shot out and threw herself at him.
‘Thank you!’ she cried. ‘Mummy said we’ve got you to thank for going to McDonald’s. So that’s what I’m doing, saying thank you.’
Mark met Beatrice’s gaze over the top of her daughter’s head. ‘Thanks from me, too,’ she said.
‘No problem.’
‘Can Mr Stafford come with us, Mummy?’ Sadie released him and looked hopefully up at her mother.
Seeing the alarm in Beatrice’s eyes, Mark said, ‘Sorry, Sadie, I’d love to but I can’t.’
Beatrice didn’t try to persuade him to change his mind but as he drove off, he wished she had. There was nothing Mark would have loved more right now, than to eat a burger and fries with Beatrice and her children.
CHAPTER FIVE
Beatrice held the pub door open for the girls and in they went, wide-eyed and shedding hats and scarves as the warmth hit them. It was only a short walk from their house to The Black Horse, but it was dark and cold outside, with a chill north-easterly wind, so she’d made sure they were dressed warmly – they would need the layers on the way home.
The children hesitated inside the door, the pub unfamiliar and overwhelming. Beatrice also paused as she took in the Christmas tree in the corner, the multicoloured lights strung around the windows, and the twinkling, flashing garland festooned across the mantlepiece. Flames leapt in the log burner, and along with the smell of food and hops, there was a hint of woodsmoke and pine in the air.
Scanning the tables, she spotted Mark and some of the tension she had been carrying eased.
From behind the bar, Dave waved at her and she gave him a fleeting smile as she shepherded the girls past, feeling awkward. She wasn’t a weekly visitor to The Black Horse, but she drank there often enough not to feel discomforted that she was here tomeet a man. This was her local, for goodness’ sake – she’d had her first legal drink in this very pub (and her first illegal one, too), but this evening, she felt as though she’d walked into a strange bar and everyone was staring at her.
Actually, quite a few peoplewere, and she knew all of them, including Dulcie and her younger sister Maisie, who had recently opened a boarding kennels on the mountain above the farm. When Dulcie saw whose table Beatrice was heading towards, she smirked and raised her eyebrows.
Beatrice stuck her nose in the air and fixed her gaze on Mark – which was a mistake, as she felt her cheeks pinking up, especially when he got to his feet and went in for a hug. The contact was brief, but it set her nerves jangling nevertheless as her body remembered what it was like to be held by him.
Heat flooded through her and she hastily shrugged out of her coat.
‘Sit down, girls,’ she instructed, folding it over her arm as she pulled out a chair for Sadie. Sadie ignored it and sat next to Mark. Taya sat next to her sister, leaving one unoccupied seat on Mark’s other side.
Sadie shuffled her chair closer to him. Ironically Beatrice moved her own chair further away; not by much, but enough to give her a little more space to breathe. Right now, it felt as though there wasn’t enough air in the room. Or was that due to the heat the log burner was spewing out?
Yes, that was it. Probably.
Sadie had begun chatting away as soon as she’d sat down, but Taya was more reserved and hadn’t said a word, and Beatrice had the impression that her eldest child wasn’t as keen on Mark as her youngest was.
It took a while to choose their meals, mainly because Sadie couldn’t decide, but with the food eventually ordered, Mark settled down to business. Taking a digital tablet out of its fabric sleeve, he proceeded to discuss his idea with the girls, and both were fascinated with the artwork he’d done so far, Taya especially, who was emerging from her shell now that she had something electronic to focus on.
‘I assumed you used paper and paint,’ Beatrice said.
‘I do, but digital art is less messy, and because digital lets me layer my work, if I want to change something, the colour of the dog let’s say, then I can do so easily without having to repaint the whole thing.’
‘Can I have a go?’ Taya asked. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the screen.
Mark said, ‘You can, but on one condition – you give me your honest opinion about the story. I know it isn’t aimed at someone your age, but your input is still valuable. Yours, too, Bea; as a parent.’
By the time their meals arrived, Mark’s idea for his new book had been thoroughly discussed, and Taya had become totally enthralled with digital art.
‘Can I have a tablet, Mum?’ she asked.
Beatrice’s heart sank; she’d been expecting her daughter to ask, but she was hoping she wouldn’t. Tablets like this weren’t cheap. Even with her new job at the farm, she was pretty sure she couldn’t afford to buy one, especially with Christmas being only a few weeks away and she’d already begun buying gifts, not wanting to leave everything to the last minute.
