Ben snatched the phone from me. ‘I heard that. Think I’m going to be sick. If Olivia gets her kit off that really will sabotage the game.’
I couldn’t hear Daniel’s response properly.
‘Yeah. See you tomorrow, mate.’
The warm fuzzy feeling spreading through my chest dissipated the irritation at being cut off in my prime.
Ben glanced at me suspiciously before sliding the phone into his shirt pocket. ‘What’s happened to Emily?’ he asked slyly.
I looked at him questioningly. He’s not normally that quick on the uptake.
‘What do you mean?’ I asked, jutting out my chin defiantly.
‘She’s definitely not coming?’ he asked, as we careered around a sharp corner.
With my feet wedged firmly into the front well, I jammed myself into my seat wishing he’d keep his eyes on the road. We swerved again. The car was doing sixty down the country lane.
‘No,’ I said shortly, hanging onto the seat and, through sheer will power, my lunch.
‘Oo, have you two fallen out?’ he said, in that irritating little brother way.
‘Not exactly,’ I said dryly. I didn’t want to go into details with him, it was too raw and he was the last person I’d confide in. If you can rely on someone to say the wrong thing — it’s him. I certainly didn’t want anything said to Daniel. I could imagine it all too clearly, something along the lines of ‘The girlies have fallen out again’.
‘Why isn’t she coming? Not that Dan seems that bothered. I did wonder if they were still, you know...’ He glanced enquiringly over at me.
‘If they’re not, its news to me,’ I said brusquely.
His face fell.
Typical, Emily was just his type. I couldn’t bear it if she caught her claws into my baby brother. Quickly I added, ‘As far as I know, Emily’s still dead keen. She just hates cricket. What’s Daniel said then?’
‘Not a dicky bird. He doesn’t say much about her. Just call it my intuition.’
Intuition, I shook my head. Bless him. He wouldn’t see a lamp post until he’d walked into it.
‘He was asking about you and your fella. Oops, sorry.’ He rammed the gears into fourth.
Fella. Hello! What fella? Surely not Ned. I would have asked but the last of the hair-raising turns he was negotiating at top speed was playing havoc with my digestion. It was all I could do to hang onto the contents of my stomach. When we screeched into the gravelled drive, pulling up with an emergency stop scant inches from the bumper of Dad’s Jaguar, all I could think about was the relief of being back on dry tarmac.
Chapter Fourteen
Tumbling out of the car, I looked fondly up at the front of the house, with its ancient wisteria curling around the front door. Wellies and trainers littered the large porch and I picked my way through them as I hurried into the house pushing open the door, yelling, ‘Hello. We’re home.’
Heading straight to the kitchen, kicking off my shoes as I went, I padded across the parquet floor past the wide staircase. We’d lived in this house for as long as I could remember and at this time of day I was guaranteed to find my parents in the kitchen.
I paused in the doorway enjoying the familiar sight of Mum sitting at the huge pine table with a glass of wine, peering at theTelegraphcrossword, with Dad reading the sports section, a half-pint glass of his favourite bitter in hand.
Mum pushed her glasses onto the top of head. ‘Hello, darling. Good trip?’
Enveloped in her arms I breathed in her familiar Rive Gauche scent.
‘Hi, Mum.’ I relaxed into the hug. She squeezed me tight.
I leaned over and kissed Dad on the top of his bald head.
‘Hi, Sweetie,’ he said. ‘How are you?’
Mum immediately grabbed me a glass, and without asking poured me a generous slug of wine.
