CATHERINE GEORGE

Tangled Emotions


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‘I had an illuminating—and unpleasant—little exchange with Melissa earlier on, which is why I went to the Mitre for a drink afterwards.’

      ‘That bad?’ said Fen with sympathy.

      ‘Not good.’ He looked at her for a moment. ‘Would it bore you to hear the details?’

      ‘Not in the least,’ she said truthfully. ‘Did she break up with you?’

      ‘No, quite the reverse. Melissa took me by surprise. She’d been trying to persuade me to keep on my London flat for weekends all along, but last night I learned why. She took it for granted she could just move from her flat into mine.’ His face hardened. ‘She informed me it was pointless to go on paying good money for rent on her flat when my place would be empty during the week.’

      Nice lady, thought Fen. ‘You didn’t want that?’

      ‘No. Something she refused to believe over dinner last night. So to avoid a scene in the restaurant I put her in a taxi and drove straight here.’ He shrugged. ‘But tonight I explained, in words of one syllable, that the sale of the London flat was needed to finance this place, at which point she flew off the handle and told me she had no intention of burying herself in the back of beyond, even for me.’

      ‘Ah,’ said Fen, privately thinking that anyone who looked on Pennington as the back of beyond was best given up as a bad job. ‘Has she seen this flat?’

      Joe shook his head and refilled her mug. ‘No.’

      She smiled up at him. ‘It might change her mind if she did.’

      ‘No point. I’ve never thought of her as my “lady”, as you put it, so I made it very clear,’ he said, his voice extra-dry, ‘that her sacrifice was not, and never had been, required.’

      ‘Ouch!’

      ‘Exactly. Melissa went through the roof, exposing a side to her personality kept firmly under wraps before. Which is why I felt in urgent need of a drink afterwards. And thought of the Mitre—and you.’ He sat back in his chair. ‘So. Apart from the angry cousin, is there someone in your life?’

      ‘No. I’m on my own.’ She drank some tea to counter a fleeting wave of misery. ‘My mother died when I was born.’

      Joe reached a hand across the table to grasp hers in sympathy. ‘Your father brought you up?’

      ‘No. Relatives.’ She detached her hand and got up. ‘Time I went home, if that’s all right with you.’

      He got to his feet. ‘I obviously touched a nerve.’

      She smiled ruefully. ‘Only because I’m a bit on edge after meeting Adam.’

      ‘I’ll try to keep off contentious subjects in future,’ he promised. ‘So, when can I see you again?’

      ‘I work pretty unsociable hours,’ Fen reminded him.

      He raised a straight dark eyebrow. ‘Is that a no?’

      ‘No, it’s not. I’m off this Sunday, if that’s any good.’

      ‘Sunday it is. What shall we do?’

      Not sure how much of Sunday he had in mind, Fen played safe. ‘You choose.’

      ‘Let’s see what the weather’s like and go from there. How soon do you surface after Saturday night at the Mitre?’

      ‘Nine-ish?’

      ‘I’ll ring you.’ Joe took her hand again, and turned the palm up. Fen stood very still as he bent his head to kiss it. He straightened, and smiled into her watchful eyes, then closed her fingers over the spot his lips had touched and led the way from his elegant apartment.

      ‘I’m afraid we’ll have to go back to the Mitre,’ Fen told him as he drove off. ‘My car’s parked there, which is partly why I forced myself on you. I don’t want Adam to know which car I drive these days, either.’

      ‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Joe casually. ‘Does Cousin Adam lust after you, by any chance?’

      ‘Absolutely not!’ said Fen, turning a shocked face on him. ‘He’s married, with two children.’

      Joe shrugged. ‘It doesn’t always rule such things out.’

      ‘I know that! But it does in this case. It’s not that kind of thing at all.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘We had a quarrel. Such a bad one I’m still licking my wounds.’

      When they reached the deserted Mitre car park Joe switched off the engine and turned to her.

      ‘Now this cousin of yours knows where you work, he’ll be back.’

      ‘Yes,’ she agreed glumly. ‘And from the mood Adam was in tonight I don’t think a fond reconciliation is on the cards. No matter. I can handle him.’

      ‘If you say so. Nevertheless, I’ll follow you home and see you safely inside your house,’ said Joe, with the kind of casual Alpha-male assurance Fen normally objected to. But he came to your rescue again tonight, she reminded herself. Be nice.

      Joe walked with her to her car, and waited until she drove off before following her to narrow, treeless Farthing Street, where it was rare to find all the streetlights functioning at the same time. True to form, the one outside her house was still out of action. Fen parked on the square of concrete in front of her house, and waited for Joe to follow her round to the back.

      ‘It’s hellish dark out here,’ he said, as she opened the door. ‘Turn all your lights on. Better still, I’ll do it.’

      ‘Joe,’ she said tartly. ‘I’m perfectly capable of turning them on myself.’

      He backed away, hands held up in mock surrender. ‘Of course you are. Goodnight, then, Fenella. I’ll ring you on Sunday morning.’

      ‘Thanks again for playing along with me tonight.’

      ‘No thanks necessary—I enjoyed it enormously.’

      For a moment Fen felt sure he would kiss her, and felt a pang of regret when Joe merely smiled and told her to lock the door behind him.

      Fen had been taken on originally for part-time work at the Mitre, but due to staff holidays she’d worked both shifts each day for the past week, with just a short break in the late afternoon. And, though Saturday was always busy, this one was made doubly exhausting by the day-long worry over whether Adam would turn up at some point, hellbent on confrontation.

      ‘Just thank your lucky stars the Mitre isn’t residential,’ said Jilly, as they tidied up after the lunchtime wave was over. ‘A friend of mine works at the Chesterton, and takes a turn at serving breakfast as well.’

      ‘Poor soul! Do one’s feet ever get used to it?’ groaned Fen.

      ‘Mine haven’t. Incidentally, have you heard?’ added Jilly, chuckling. ‘Diane rang the boss today to say she’ll be just fine for her Tuesday gig—surprise, surprise.’

      Fen blew out her cheeks in relief. ‘Thank heavens for that! I’d planned to collapse with some mysterious complaint if Tim asked me to fill in again.’

      Towards the end of a hectic evening Fen began to relax. Adam was not going to barge in and make a scene after all. Instead, just as her feet were telling her it would be really nice to go home, she saw Joe come up to the bar.

      She smiled warmly. ‘Hi. You’re obviously getting a taste for our beer.’

      ‘Or something,’ he said, returning the smile. ‘Single Scotch and a lot of soda, please.’

      Fen provided him with his drink, rang up his money on the register, handed him the change, then moved on to the next customer. It was half an hour before she had any opportunity to speak to Joe. ‘Same again?’ she asked.

      ‘Better make it a straight soda.’

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