offensive, thought Ava. Sly move.
‘Rob, how are you?’ Jackie’s face broke into a crinkly-nosed smile as she stretched up to return his kiss. ‘Have you had a dreadful drive?’
‘Not at all,’ he told her. ‘It’s been a glorious morning.’
He’d stolen the march on her and Ava was seething.
‘Sit down and let me get you a drink. Gin and tonic?’
Jackie waved to the large wooden kitchen table on the other side of the room, where Lauren and Rory were already sitting, surrounded by newspapers. Rory was clearly wearing cashmere and was working his way through the same motoring section that Rob had enjoyed earlier that morning. Lauren was reading the style pages, effortlessly glamorous in a floral dress that Ava remembered having seen in a boutique a couple of months ago. She hadn’t even taken it off the rack as it had looked so odd on the hanger, but now it was perfectly obvious that this was a heavenly 1950s tea dress. Rory looked up and smiled as Lauren got up to greet them.
Ava gently placed the pavlova on the kitchen worktop and gave her mother a huge hug.
‘Ava, darling,’ said Jackie, holding her arms out to her. ‘Words fail! You look exhausted. Have you been getting enough protein? You girls work all hours and I don’t think you eat properly. Protein’s what you need. I read about it online – Penny sent me a link on the Facebook.’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Mum,’ Ava told her firmly. ‘And it’s Facebook, not the Facebook.’
‘Yeah, and when did you get a Facebook account, Mum?’ asked Lauren over her shoulder as she hugged her sister. ‘And what are you doing with it?’
‘They started organising so many of my clubs via the Facebook, I was getting rather left out,’ Jackie explained, while Andrew stood behind her at the kitchen worktop with two glasses full of ice, into which he was hurling large slugs of gin. ‘And it turns out it’s wonderful! I’ve hjoined a group for fans of Bishopstone Park, where we can chat about that scandalous gamekeeper business. There’s a woman on there who claims to have seen the scripts in a back of a taxi and she says she know how it’s all going to end. I can barely cope! You girls should get more involved. I’ve checked it out and there’s all sorts of chit-chat about Strictly – different pages about the dancers and the kinds of dance – it would be heaven for you, heaven! And as if that’s not enough, I’ve already seen photos of Penny’s baby granddaughter in Australia – she’s just two days old!’
She was almost puce with excitement.
‘That’s wonderful …’
‘But seriously, Jackie, it’s called Facebook, not the Facebook,’ interrupted Rob.
‘It doesn’t matter, it’s sweet,’ said Ava, putting an arm around him, eager to keep the peace.
‘It’s interesting,’ said Rory, who had now looked up from the motoring section. ‘Because it really was called the Facebook to begin with – it only got changed later. So maybe Jackie’s the most cutting-edge of us all.’
At this, Jackie shrieked with laughter and clapped her hands together.
‘Cutting-edge? Marvellous!’ laughed Andrew.
Clearly Rob didn’t think this comment was at all marvellous as Ava could tell when she felt him stiffen with indignation beneath her touch.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to local gossip. Ava and Lauren, who had grown up in the village, were always keen for an update: who was having a ridiculous argument with whom, how the local farmers had done with the year’s crops and what the latest dramas from the village pub were. There was no shortage of news from Jackie, who had a heart of gold but the eyes of a hawk. No petty grudge went undocumented, no late night shenanigans was unnoticed and thanks to Dave, her favourite barman from the King’s Arms, no drunken indiscretions went unmissed. As it turned out, one of the big local farmers had not only been cheating on his wife but he’d been doing it with the lithe daughter of one of his friends. Just 22, she was fresh out of university and still hanging around at home, with her floppy blonde hair and cardigan sleeves pulled down over her knuckles. Her parents seemed to have been hoping she would simply fall in love with a passing Wiltshire landowner and they might be able to have their house back to themselves. Apparently not!
‘It’s the oldest story of them all,’ declared Jackie. ‘Men are all the same – I don’t know why anyone would get married.’ She chuckled at her own wisdom, seemingly unaware of her audience.
‘Erm, Mum,’ said Ava. ‘We are all still here, you know – your husband and your engaged daughter. And her fiancé.’
‘Well, I didn’t mean us,’ said Jackie with an airy wave. ‘I just meant, you know, generally.’
It was exactly this kind of theatrical generalisation that most irritated Rob. Ava watched his jaw clench and braced herself for his analysis later.
Meanwhile, Lauren and Rory chuckled at Jackie’s ludicrous statement and started teasing her about whether she thought they ought to be getting married.
‘Ooh, that reminds me, Ava! I really want to talk to you about flowers before you go.’
‘Oh girls, you must! Flowers are so important at weddings.’
‘Thanks for that, Mum,’ said Lauren, rolling her eyes at her sister. ‘More much-needed advice for Ava, who as we all know really struggles with her floral know-how.’
‘You lot are so mean, I just want to pass on the wisdom of my great age.’
‘Yeah, you’re ancient,’ Lauren prodded her shoulder, ‘practically a crone.’
While they were teasing each other, Ava was wondering exactly what it was Lauren wanted to say about the flowers for her wedding. Would it be advice on getting a good florist, or was she about to ask her to do them herself? Ava was slightly dreading being asked as she knew it would be a fresh new level of stress, but then she didn’t want to be deemed not up to the job, or too ‘difficult’ either. She was about to ask, but the conversation had meanwhile galloped on to an analysis of how much better this summer’s village fête had been organised. Unsurprisingly, Andrew had some quite firm ideas, while Jackie had the inside track on who had fallen out with whom by the end of the day.
The meal itself proved as delicious as the gossip. Lauren had brought homemade pâté, which she proudly served on Jackie’s favourite Melba toasts before everyone tucked into an amazing piece of roast pork. The crackling was perfect, the gravy sublime and the roast potatoes crisp, comforting nuggets of heaven. Jackie beamed with pride to see them all enjoying it and seemed to puff up like a proud hen as she offered seconds around the table. Ava watched Rob load a second helping onto his plate. He took a mouthful, wiped a trickle of gravy from around his mouth, and then carried on chewing his meat, completely focused on his meal. She tried to imagine how he would look and behave once he was the same age as her dad, who was sitting there with his twinkly-eyed grin and booming laugh. Would she still know Rob when he was that age? Perhaps they’d be sitting like this with their own children one day? Was this where they were heading? It seemed impossible to imagine, but then Ava remembered those years when she had found it unfathomable that they would ever be boyfriend and girlfriend.
Halfway through the meal, relaxed and with the soothing food inside her, Ava felt overwhelmed by tiredness and decided to offer to drive home. She put a hand over her wine glass when Andrew offered her a second glass and whispered over to Rob, ‘You go ahead, I don’t mind driving back – I really don’t fancy drinking.’ At this, he eyed her with suspicion. Ava spotted this and felt as if someone had pinched her heart between finger and thumb. ‘Honestly,’ she told him, ‘just enjoy yourself.’ This wasn’t met with a smile, however, just a shrug and then ‘Fine.’
Ava got up to serve the pavlova. Everyone ooh-ed and ah-ed as she brought it to the table, and Jackie and