Mary laughed.
‘You should tell Clive that he’d get far more money for it if it was in better repair. How old is the boiler?’
‘Not as old as I am,’ said Mary, ‘so it should be OK for another couple of years. It probably needs servicing though.’
‘But the views are sensational! A little careful tree felling would make them visible in summer, not just when the leaves are off the trees. And the rooms have lovely proportions. There are beams, but not too many or too low. Two good fireplaces and nice pale stone flags that help keep the rooms light. And if the damp patches could be treated and repainted, it would look so much better. I’d snap it up!’ Hattie laughed, to hide her disappointment about the fact she could never havethis cottage, which was her dream home. Hattie knew she was flogging a dead horse but couldn’t help herself. Clive’s selfishness when it came to his great-aunt never failed to enrage her.
‘That’s very useful. Thank you. Now, would you like a drink of some kind? Sherry? Tea?’
‘Actually, I shouldn’t stay as I’ve left Xander with Luke. He’s doing a barbecue. But I could certainly get you something. What do you fancy?’
Twenty minutes later, Hattie had made Mary a sandwich, a pot of peppermint tea with fresh mint from the garden, and had done an online shop for her, using her own credit card as she always did. Although Mary had carers, they couldn’t buy her groceries beyond the occasional bottle of milk.
‘You will let me know how much it comes to, won’t you, dear?’ said Mary, who was already looking brighter. ‘I can ask Clive to get the cash out for me.’
He’d love that, thought Hattie.Heshould be doing Mary’s online shopping, not her. The trouble was he was a bit of a Luddite himself. ‘Well, thirty pounds should cover it,’ she said, although she knew exactly how much it would be and thirty pounds wouldn’t cover it.
‘Are you sure? I’ve got that much in my bag. Hand it over to me, there’s a good girl.’
As Hattie walked back to the car, she wondered why she had lied about the cost of the shopping; it was because she knew Clive would harangue Mary if he thought she’d spent too much and she really didn’t want that. A ninety-year-old woman deserved the good biscuits.
Luke and Xander were chatting enthusiastically when Hattie rejoined them. As neither of them were exactly verbose, she wondered what they’d been talking about.
‘Xander’s been telling me about the quiz,’ said Luke. ‘It sounds as if it was good.’
‘Winning always helps,’ Hattie said, and was about to tell Luke about the trip to Paris as well, but she held back. She hadn’t quite decided what to do with that prize yet. Her immediate instinct had been to give it to Rose and Sam but someone else might need it more. It was open-ended so there was no hurry. Only very briefly had she considered going herself, but she had no one to go with.
‘The other team were pissed off that they didn’t have me on the team,’ said Xander. ‘They needed someone for computer games and music.’
‘Don’t let my sister hear you using words like “pissed”,’ said Hattie mildly. ‘She’d tell me I’m bringing you up all wrong.’
‘It’s not your job to bring me up,’ said Xander.
‘Not the point. She’d say I was a bad influence and, to be fair, she’s probably right.’
‘Time to eat,’ said Luke, getting to his feet. ‘What would you like, Hattie? A burger, some steak? A bit of everything?’
They stayed far longer than Hattie had intended but it had been such an enjoyable afternoon, sitting in the sun, eating, chatting and watching her nephew come out of his shell. He had such an attractive smile: he would be a heartbreaker, one way or another, fairly soon. Eventually though, she heaved herself out of her deck chair.
‘Luke, we must go. We’ve outstayed our welcome by several hours, I’m sure, but it’s been so lovely,’ she said.
She saw a glimmer in her old friend’s eyes she couldn’t interpret. ‘It’s been a pleasure, Hattie.’
And as they hugged goodbye she wondered if Luke had held on to her just a fraction of a second longer than usual. On her part she had found it harder than usual to let him go.
The following evening, Hattie was sorting out washing when her phone went. It was Sheila. What could she want at this hour?
‘Hattie? I’m so sorry to disturb you but Fiona’s distraught. I don’t know who else to turn to. She talks about you all the time so I hope you don’t mind me ringing.’ There followed a series of muffled sounds where Hattie could just make out a general sense of chaos amid some choice phrases: ‘the wedding’, ‘Lance’, ‘called off’. ‘I don’t know what to do or who to turn to.’
Hattie sighed. ‘Do you need me to come over?’
Sheila sighed deeply in her turn. ‘Could you? I would be so grateful. I don’t know how to deal with this. And Malcolm is worse than useless.’
‘I’ll be right there.’ Poor Fiona, Hattie thought, though whatever had happened to call the wedding off had probably done everyone a favour, not least Hattie who now wouldn’t have to find a way to separate the pair. The least she could do was go over to offer some comfort to her friend.
But what about Xander? Would it be OK to leave him alone in the house at night? He’d say yes if she asked him, of course he would. Maybe she’d picked upsome of her sister’s anxiety, she thought as she found Luke’s number.
‘Hey,’ he said.
