‘In the back of a pub car park, the Garten Arms.’
Rhona shook her head and plumped her bottom lip, not one for pubs. ‘I don’t know it.’
‘It’s not the…’ Senga’s voice bounced off the walls of the shed, and Roz’s eyes darted towards the women enquiringly.
Both women sprang into poses of industrious innocence, wiping down the countertops and restacking the cairn of rock buns under the glass dome until Roz had looked away again.
‘It’s not the pub that’s important,’ hissed Senga. ‘It’s what on earth McIntyre is doing sitting in parked cars with strange women late at night…’
‘You didn’t mention it was late at night!’
‘Well, it was about half six,’ Senga conceded. ‘Tony was on his last route of the day and he swore blind it was him and a mystery woman, and they were looking very cosy. I told Jean to tell him he must need his eyes checked because there was never a steadier couple than the McIntyres, but when you think about it, when was the last time you saw the pair of them anywhere near each other? Or having any fun? Or going out together? Dinners and that?’
‘Are you suggesting’ – Rhona dared only whisper the following into her sister’s ear – ‘that some other wummin is getting her…’ She paused, searching for a delicate way of saying it. ‘Her hinges oiled by Charlie McIntyre?’
Senga fired a sage look at her innocent sister. ‘He is forever sneakin’ off on his own lately. You must have noticed?’
Rhona had to anchor herself against the counter. It couldn’t be? Not the McIntyres? Not after all this time?
‘I’ll have a tea, if that’s all right, please, Senga?’ Roz had appeared at the counter.
‘One mug of tea, coming up,’ Senga brazened, turning for the urn.
Rhona, who was a good deal less cunning than her sister, only clutched her tea towel to her chest and gazed through sympathy-washed eyes at Roz. If it was indeed true that McIntyre was up to no good, it wouldn’t be her that gave the game away and broke poor Roz’s heart.
‘Have a rock bun, on me,’ Rhona blurted, dishing up the biggest chocolate-dipped sugary boulder of the lot. ‘Tea’s on me as well,’ she said. ‘My treat.’
‘All right. Thanks very much?’ Roz drew out the words, eyeing the sisters.
Thankfully, they could often be accused of being more than a little eccentric and this reputation meant they were easily let off the hook now. Roz smiled warily at them both and carried away her treats, shaking her head.
Side by side like two watchmen on the ramparts, the sisters surveyed the room as Roz settled once more at her machine, and Senga spoke from the side of her mouth. ‘I hope that freebie’s coming out of your pocket, sister.’
And so, the morning carried on much as it ever did behind the repair shop café counter.
On the sofas, Carenza had one last task on her list.
‘There’s something I wanted to ask you, Peach.’
‘OK?’ Peaches trusted her mother in most things, so had no reason to panic; not like the rest of the town folk when Carenza bowled up to them and said she has something to ask of them.
‘I wondered if this year, at the bonfire, you’d consider… entertaining… a date?’
‘A date?’ Her mind raced. ‘Who?’
‘It’s come to my attention that a certain… earnest young man has arrived in town, and he’s wasted no time in making himself very useful to me.’
‘He has?’ Peaches looked to the doors that Euan Sparks had passed through only a moment ago.
‘He has impressed me a great deal and, I think, conducted himself in a gentlemanly manner.’
‘OK?’ Peaches’ heart beat a little harder and she felt her cheeks redden. Had her mum noticed her awkwardness around Euan and put two and two together? Could it be that she actually approved of him?
‘The boy’s from local stock and already embedded in his community. A kind person, I think, and reserved. Discreet.’
‘Yes,’ Peaches said quickly. She had to agree; Euan had been nothing but kind, and reserved; but, if anything, he was too discreet. She’d felt sure he was about to ask her out earlier, but hadn’t seemed able to summon the words.
‘You know I don’t like to meddle,’ Carenza purred. ‘On this one occasion, however, I’d like your permission to invite him to the Beltane celebration as your… chaperone.’
