Megan made a big show of waving as they walked away from the house, but to be fair, most of the household were at the window watching them go. She walked over to Daniel’s shiny new Range Rover. Joe unlocked his Land Rover and he watched Megan do a double take at the old vehicle, before slapping back on a Hollywood smile and waving to the Collins family.
Megan brushed down the passenger seat, even though it was clean, and got in. Joe didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He started the car and allowed himself one last look back at the house. Lottie was just visible, standing behind Zach. Her expression was one that would haunt him.
And with that, he drove out of the gates and away from Henbourne Manor.
‘Aren’t you gonna say howdy?’ Megan’s voice was strained, as if it was taking a lot of effort not to shout.
‘Why did you come here, Megan?’ He glanced briefly at her. She was staring straight ahead through the windscreen and he caught sight of her in profile. She looked amazing. She was a striking woman – that was what he had immediately been drawn to when they’d first met five months ago.
‘I came because there was no answer at the address you gave me. I went to the little stores and they said I’d likely find you at Lottie’s.’ He didn’t like the way she said Lottie’s name, almost like she was ridiculing it. It didn’t sound right on her tongue. Joe didn’t want to think about what rumours were already zooming through the village, spreading quicker, most likely, than one of Donald Trump’s tweets.
Joe pulled up outside the rental cottage. Megan went to undo her seat belt and he put a hand on hers to stop her. She gripped his quickly and relief spread across her face. ‘I’ve missed you, Joe.’
It was Megan who said the words, but he heard them as if spoken by Lottie: the same words she’d uttered only a couple of hours earlier. He shook his head to rid himself of the image.
‘Don’t you have any luggage?’ He changed the subject.
‘Oh, my driver has it. I had someone arrange a car for me. After he dropped me at …’
He wasn’t sure if she couldn’t remember, or didn’t want to repeat Lottie’s name. ‘The manor house,’ he said, filling the gap.
She nodded. ‘After he’d dropped me there. I told him to go and wait for my call.’
Joe really didn’t want to ask the question that was buzzing around his brain for fear of the answer, but at six o’clock on Boxing Day evening he needed to. ‘Where are you staying tonight?’
Megan looked out of the passenger window at Mr Bundy’s tiny cottage. ‘Well, here, of course.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘Joe, we need to iron a few things out. What could be better than cosying up in front of a real fire with a mugof cocoa and Christmas cookies, while we talk things through?’
Joe let out a resigned sigh. Of course she expected to stay with him and what could he do? She’d flown some four thousand miles, and he could hardly expect her to find a hotel on Boxing Day. He hated being forced into a situation, but Megan was a grade-A manipulator.
‘Central heating,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘No real fire. It’s radiators only. So don’t expect any cosying up.’ He got out of the car and slammed the door.
Chapter Thirty
Lottie found it was important to keep busy. ‘Don’t dwell on things you can’t change’ – that’s what Nana would say. So now they were all playing charades from a new set Lottie had bought off eBay but, having already removedAn American Werewolf in LondonandFifty Shades of Grey, she was doubting its ‘child-friendly’ sticker. Her mother was up miming a song; she had spent the last minute jumping about like an idiot, with people suggesting everything from ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ to all the songs fromThe Greatest Showman. The doorbell rang through the house and Lottie went to answer it. Her heart thumped a little faster at the thought that it might be Joe. It was dark and the wind was fierce, so she held on tight to the door as she opened it. On the doorstep was Shirley with her tartan trolley.
‘Hello, Shirley. Come in,’ said Lottie, marvelling that the little old lady had made it up the hill in the high winds, and then wondering whether it was in fact the wind that had brought her here, Mary Poppins-style.
‘I’m not stopping. I just called by to see how young Bernard was,’ she asked, without a hint of humour in her voice. But then if you were pushing ninety, seventy-two was young by comparison.
‘He’s doing all right and he’s getting the best nursing care. Hopefully he’ll just need some medication and to take it easy. Thank you for coming to ask. That’s really kind.’
Shirley waved the thanks away. ‘You know how it works around here, Lottie. We all look out for each other. Most likely why someone dumped that little dog here. They knew someone would take him in.’
‘Is that what you think happened?’
‘Someone came in the pub with tales of a little dog being pushed out the back of a van a few nights ago.’
‘Poor thing.’ Lottie wanted to go and give Dave a hug. She still hadn’t thanked him for shredding Megan’s coat.
‘Right, I best be off,’ said Shirley, pushing her trolley for the door.
