‘Friday,’ said Sheila
‘This Friday? That’s horribly short notice.’
Sheila nodded. ‘And horribly near the wedding.’
‘Oh? Remind me when that is? I know you’ve told me.’ Hattie smiled at Fiona.
‘The twenty-second of June. The happiest day of my life.’
‘Oh, don’t say that,’ said Hattie. ‘It implies that life is all downhill from there!’ As soon as the words wereout of her mouth, she regretted them. Hattie couldn’t imagine that Fiona’s married life would be a bed of roses but she hadn’t found a way to help Fiona see what Lance was like: he might not even have had his affair yet. ‘That’s pretty!’ she said quickly, to hide her feelings. She pointed to a woven shopping basket with leather handles hanging on a hook in the hall. ‘Is it French?’
‘Yes. It’s Mummy’s but I do borrow it quite often,’ said Fiona. ‘It’s very useful. You can just fling everything in.’ She laughed. ‘Lance says I use it like a dustbin, and fill it with rubbish.’
At the same time as Hattie was thinking what she’d like to fill Lance with she realised when she’d last seen a basket just like it: in the vision she’d had of Nick. It wasn’t enough on its own to identify Fiona, or more frighteningly her mother, but it was enough to make her add Nick’s name to her list of potential quiz attendees. ‘Right, well, as I say, I’m going to make up a table for Friday. Get us a good range of experts.’
‘That would be really kind,’ said Sheila, as if Hattie had promised her half a litre of blood. ‘Here are some leaflets with all the details on them. There’ll be supper and a bar. Food will be free – I’m bringing chocolate roulades for pudding – but drinks won’t be. Or maybe there’s one free drink? I can’t remember. But I’m not letting anyone pay for their tickets,’ she added firmly, just as Hattie had opened her mouth to ask how much it would be. ‘This is our mess. You’re doing us a favour as it is.’
Hattie took the leaflets and gave Fiona and her mother a quick hug goodbye.
Hattie thought about the basket, and how she might invite Nick to the quiz without seeming like she was asking him out herself. But it had to be done. If he and Fiona appeared to hit it off, she could assume it was the right basket; if not, it obviously wasn’t. But she wasn’t quite happy about this. She wanted to know for sure. It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them to show interest in each other with Lance there.
She parked the car and walked up through the grounds of the pub – Luke had texted to say where he and Xander had gone – to where she could see them sitting at the top of the garden, where the view was best. It was a beautiful summer afternoon and Hattie never stopped being grateful for living in such a beautiful area.
‘Hi, guys!’ she said, aware of a sudden rush of happiness at seeing them. The dogs, Frank and Fearless, who’d been settled quietly under the bench, got up and made a huge fuss of her. ‘Can I get you drinks? Not you,’ she said to Fearless, who was particularly affectionate.
Luke unhooked his long legs from the bench and got to his feet. ‘I’ll get them. What are you having? And do you want anything to eat? We’ve already had lunch, but they’ll stop serving food soon.’
‘Lime soda, please, but nothing to eat.’
Luke nodded, and after a quick command to his dogs to stay, set off towards the pub.
‘So, how was it?’ Hattie was a little anxious; she’d left Xander with Luke when they didn’t really know each other. Luke had offered, and to her surprise and relief, Xander had accepted the offer of spending Sunday morning with him.
Xander nodded. ‘Cool.’ He didn’t elaborate, but as far as she could tell, he wasn’t unhappy.
‘You haven’t spent all morning at the pub?’
Xander shook his head. ‘No. We went to an old house Luke is working on. But I found out he used to be into electronic music, like I am. He’s still got quite a lot of kit. He said I can use it any time.’
‘That’s good.’ Hattie wasn’t sure she knew about Luke’s musical interests and certainly didn’t know about Xander’s. ‘So you had a nice time?’
Xander nodded.
Luke came back with drinks and packets of crisps. Seeing him walking up the hill with the tray, Hattie noticed how easily he moved, his faded linen shirt loose on his body, his equally faded jeans flattering his long legs. She reached for her bag, so he wouldn’t notice she’d been looking at him.
‘So, how do you feel about quizzes?’ Hattie asked when everyone had had time to sip their drinks.
Luke nodded. ‘I like them. No good at sport or popular culture though.’
Xander shrugged. ‘Never watched one.’
‘I’m talking about a real-life quiz, not one on television. And I really hope you’ll come. Sheila, Fiona’s mother – she’s my client – Fiona is, I mean – needs people for a quiz team.’
‘When is it?’ asked Luke.
‘This Friday,’ she said. ‘Very short notice.’ She pulled out a couple of leaflets. ‘You’ll be my guests, of course, and there’s a supper which sounds pretty good.’
Luke looked at the leaflet. ‘I’ll come if I can but I’m back down in Cornwall next week. I might not be able to get back in time.’
