This was met with more silence. “A hundred and one?” Lucy ventured. “It’s got to be close to a hundred, for it to be called that.”
“Good point,” Rachel answered, and then pressed a finger to her lips. “Nicholas Fairley runs the Hartley Historical Society,” she whispered. “And he’s sitting right behind us.”
Instinctively Juliet glanced round, only to have Rachel hiss at her not to be so obvious. “But that’s cheating,” she objected, and Rachel rolled her eyes.
“That’s all part of a pub quiz, Juliet.” She shook her head. “Damn, he’s already written something down. All right, we’ll go with a hundred and one.”
“Next question,” Rob bellowed, and a respectful hush followed. “What is the capital city of Australia?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Juliet exclaimed. “Canberra.”
“Pipedown!” Rachel hissed as the people at several tables near them began writing frantically. “You want the whole room to know?” She started to write. “You’re sure, though?”
“Yes. I was thinking of emigrating there, a while back.” Everyone looked at her and Juliet took another sip of wine.
“When was that?” Rachel asked.
Juliet shrugged. “A long time ago, before I moved up here.”
“Sometimes I think we might as well be in Australia,” Lucy said, and Rachel guffawed at that.
“At least there aren’t any poisonous snakes here.”
“There’s adders up Ennerdale way,” Peter ventured, and Rachel gave him a look.
“Did I really need to know that, Peter?” she demanded. “Adders. God help us.”
“Next question!” Rob bellowed, and they moved on.
As the questions rolled on—What is the motto of the British Special Forces? Who composed the opera Peer Gynt?—Juliet felt herself relax. Maybe it was the better part of Rachel’s bottle of red she’d drunk, or maybe it was the good-natured joking that flew around her, making her smile even if she couldn’t quite take part in it.
By the time they were exchanging quizzes to mark, followed by lots of teasing about cheating and giving half marks for good guesses, Juliet was feeling loose-limbed and a little bit sleepy.
“You areet, Juliet?” Peter asked, his eyebrows raised. She smiled at him. She felt almost dreamy.
“Oh, I’m fine.”
“You’re drunk,” Rachel stated, holding up the empty bottle of wine. “I’ve only had one glass! You owe me, Juliet Bagshaw.”
“Fine,” Juliet answered with a shrug, and Rachel let out a laugh.
“Now I know how to get you to relax. I should have twigged it ages ago.”
Juliet drew herself up, annoyed now that she could sense everyone was laughing at her. “I’m not drunk,” she told Rachel shortly. “I’ve only had a couple of glasses of wine.”
“More like four,” Rachel answered, but she dropped it since they were announcing the winners of the quiz. Their table missed winning by two. “Still, it was a good showing,” she said as she rose from the table. “I’ve got to get home and make sure Lily’s done her homework. Same time next week? We’ll have to come up with a name for our team.”
“The Cumbrian Quizzers?” Lucy suggested, and Rachel rolled her eyes. “The Seaside Smarties?” she tried again, and Juliet interjected, her voice slurring only slightly:
“How about the Village Idiots?”
“You ought to get her home,” Rachel told Lucy. “If you can.”
“I’ll walk you both,” Peter offered. “It’s on my way.”
Juliet simply sat and watched; she felt so very tired, but also as if the evening were slipping away from her. She didn’t want to go home.
“Come on, then,” Lucy said, and reached for her hand. Juliet shook her off.
