‘His letter says… hang on,’ she grabbed the letter. ‘“PS you made an excellent fortune teller BTW.”’
‘By the way,’ replied Jasmine with a grin, liking the sound of the man. He clearly wasn’t an old fuddy-duddy, using terminology like that and surfing the net. When she’d said as much to Bunty, she’d gone on to tell her about Perry’s stepdaughter, Emma.
‘She obviously keeps him young,’ Jasmine commented.
Bunty also went on to explain about Perry’s late wife.
‘Oh, that’s sad,’ said Jasmine, ‘but at least he’s had Emma in his life.’
More than I’ve had, thought Bunty with regret. Then, she forced herself to remain positive. She had to think about future arrangements with Perry, which prompted her to ask for advice.
‘Where do you think we should meet?’
‘Maybe somewhere neutral?’ suggested Jasmine.
‘Hmm…’ Bunty was racking her brains, after all she very rarely left Samphire Bay.
‘What about a tea shop in Lancaster? I could take you.’
‘Would you, darling? As moral support?’
‘Of course! After all you’ve done for me,’ replied Jasmine with gusto. ‘I don’t mind spending the day in Lancaster. I’ll drop you off, then make myself scarce until it’s time to come home.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes, absolutely,’ Jasmine said firmly.
‘Oh thank you, darling. I’ll write back and tell him.’
Jasmine frowned. ‘You haven’t his number then?’
‘No, but then he hasn’t mine either,’ replied Bunty matter of factly.
‘Don’t you think you should exchange numbers? It’d be easier when meeting up.’
‘Sorry?’ said Bunty, a touch confused. My goodness, how would the youth of today cope without their mobile phones? It was as though they couldn’t exist without them. How did they think the likes of she and Perry managed all those years ago without one? Set the date, time and place and stick to it. Simple, to her mind.
‘Well, supposing something happens and one of you can’t make it?’ said Jasmine, equally bemused by Bunty’s apparent inability to grasp the obvious.
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know!’ she laughed, finding Bunty’s obtuseness exasperating, then added for devilment, ‘FFS.’
There was a moment’s pause. Jasmine could almost hear the clogs ticking in Bunty’s head.
‘Sorry? FFS?’
Jasmine bent double, trying to keep the laughter in.
‘It’s another abbreviation,’ she replied, but couldn’t keep the humour out of her voice.
‘Oh I see,’ said Bunty suspecting she was the subject to ridicule. ‘I’ll look it up,’ she told her flatly.
‘You do that, and in the meantime, I’ll find a nice, cosy tea shop in Lancaster for you and Perry.’
‘Good. Thank you.’
‘BFN,’ replied Jasmine, unable to resist throwing out another acronym.
