‘She’s a stalker.’ Grinning, Jake said, ‘Actually, a solicitor.’

‘She’s pulling up now,’ Juliet reported as the scarlet MG, having completed its U-turn, slowed to a halt outside Jake’s workshop. ‘Honestly, Jake, you are hopeless. If you don’t want to see her, why don’t you just tell the poor girl? Put her out of her misery.’

‘I have told her! She won’t take no for an answer! We only went out a couple of times. I didn’t even sleep with her,’ Jake protested.

‘Really?’

‘I didn’t! And I told her it was over last week, really nicely.’

‘ Let me guess,’ said Juliet. ‘You’re a great girl, Emma, it’s not you, it’s me. All the usual tosh.’

‘Well, yes.’ Jake looked hurt. ‘What’s wrong with that? I can hardly say it’s not me, it’s you, can I? Anyway, I gave it my best shot, thought I’d done a good job. But she won’t accept it, she keeps phoning me, it’s really awkward, and she drove past the cottage last night.’

‘Maddy’s talking to her now,’ Juliet announced. ‘She’s pointing over here ... Crikey, Emma’s heading this way, she’s taking a knife out of her handbag.’

‘You’re not serious.’

‘Of course I’m not serious. Ha, had you going though, serves you right for being so irresistible.’ Clearly amused, Juliet moved away from the window. ‘It’s OK, Emma’s climbing back into her car. She’s driving off now. You’re safe. And who said you could have that?’ She eyed the apricot Danish Jake had filched from the glass cabinet.

‘Stress makes me hungry. God, why does life have to be so complicated?’ grumbled Jake.

‘That’s what happens when you’re a professional love rat.

Go around breaking girls’ hearts and you’ll get grief,’ Juliet said cheerfully. ‘That’s just the way it goes. Maybe it’s time you thought about meeting someone nice and settling down.’

Had she and Maddy been discussing him behind his back?

‘Pot, kettle.’ Swallowing a mouthful of Danish, Jake gave her a pointed look. ‘Anyway, speaking of girls getting their hearts broken, what’s Maddy playing at? Has she told you who she’s seeing?’ He made it sound as if he knew but was wondering if Juliet had been let in on the secret.

No,’ Juliet lied, perfectly well aware that Jake didn’t know and would certainly hit the roof if he did. ‘Just that he’s married. Here she comes now,’ she added. ‘And don’t nag her about it, OK?

Because nagging won’t help.’

Jake had already guessed that Juliet would be on Maddy’s side. Tiff’s father had been a married man. Beyond that, no details were known; he and Juliet may have been friends for years, but Juliet had remained resolutely silent on the subject. Privately, Jake wondered how anyone, married or otherwise, could have dumped Juliet.

‘All sorted.’ Maddy, looking pleased with herself, reentered the shop and sat back down cross-legged on the floor in front of her jars of plum chutney.

‘Well? What happened?’ said Jake.

‘I told her you’d been battling with your sexuality.’ Jake choked on his Danish pastry. ‘Excuse me?’

‘But that you’d reached a decision at last, and from now on you were only going to go out with people with hairy chests.’

‘You’re joking.’ Juliet’s eyes sparkled. ‘And she actually believed you?’

‘I’m not joking at all,’ said Maddy, ‘and no, of course she didn’t believe me, but it did the trick. She said, "Jake doesn’t want to see me any more, does he?" and I said, "Sorry, no he doesn’t." So she did that wobbly-lip thing and said, "I thought we had something special together," and I said, "Trust me, he’s not worth it, he’s not special at all."‘

‘Thanks,’ said Jake.

‘You’re welcome. So after that Emma said, "Tell him 1 won’t phone him again, I promise, but he’s got my number if he changes his mind." Then she climbed back into her car and drove off, still trying not to cry. So there you go,’ Maddy concluded cheerfully, ‘I’ve done your dirty work for you. I think we’ll have lasagne tonight.’

Jake, who knew when he was beaten, turned to Juliet. ‘Fancy bringing Tiff over? If I’m making lasagne, may as well make a big one.’

‘Great,’ said Juliet, because lasagne was Jake’s signature dish. ‘I’ll bring a bottle. What time, sevenish?’

‘Actually, can we eat earlier than that?’ Maddy did her best to sound casual. ‘I’m going out at seven.’

Opening his mouth to say something caustic, Jake caught Juliet’s look of warning and closed it again.

‘Fine. We’ll lock the kids in the attic and have a romantic candlelit evening together, just the two of us.’ Winking at Maddy, he said, ‘She won’t be able to resist me.’

‘Or,’ Juliet said prosaically, ‘we could play Scrabble.’

‘ Oof,’ Kate gasped as the small boy, barrelling round the corner of the pub, ran full tilt into her stomach.

Tiff, staggering backwards in the wake of the impact, gazed up in horror at Kate and wailed, ‘Oh no, my ice cream!’

The chocolate ice cream he’d been clutching had ricocheted out of his hand and landed with a soft phut on the pavement, the cornet sticking out like Pinocchio’s nose.

It served him right, of course, but that was boys for you. Kate found herself feeling quite sorry for him.

‘You shouldn’t have been running so fast,’ she said kindly, because tears were now welling up in the boy’s blue eyes. She didn’t see why she should have to buy him another one, it wasn’t her fault after all, but in all likelihood she probably would. ‘It’s OK, don’t cry — oh, look at Norris, he’s such a pig.’

Smiling nicely to cheer the boy up, she nodded at Norris, who was enthusiastically slurping away at the ice cream and chomping up the cone.

‘I-I’m sorry,’ the boy whispered, backing away from Kate in dismay.

She knew who he was. He belonged to Juliet Price, who ran the delicatessen. His name was Tiff, that was it, and he spent most of his time with Jake’s daughter Sophie. With his messy white-blond hair and startlingly bright eyes, he was actually rather sweet looking. Abruptly, it dawned on Kate that the cause of his terror could be the sight of her own scarred face. Hurriedly she dug into her back pocket for a couple of pound coins. Determined to show him she wasn’t as scary as she looked, she said encouragingly, ‘Here, don’t worry, I’ll get you an even better ice cream — aaarrghh!’

Belatedly glancing down, Kate discovered the real reason for the boy’s agitation. The front of her trousers was sporting a brown stain the size of a baked potato, com plete with splatter marks and drips all down one leg. She gazed at the mess in paralysed disbelief. This couldn’t have happened while she was wearing her usual jeans, could it? Oh no, of course not, because life didn’t work that way, did it? Instead, it had to happen on the one day she was wearing her brand new cream linen John Galliano trousers.

Kate’s head felt as if it might explode with the effort it took not to scream and hurl abuse.

‘Had a bit of an accident, have we?’ Dexter Nevin, emerging from the pub, eyed Kate’s trousers with ill-concealed amusement.

‘They’re Galliano.’ Kate spat the words through gritted teeth. ‘I bought them in Bloomingdale’s.’

‘Ah well.’ Dexter shrugged easily. ‘I’m more of a Next man myself.’

‘They cost a fortune.’

‘ I said s-sorry.’ Tiff turned fearfully to Dexter. ‘It was an accident, I promise.’

‘Oh, for crying out loud.’ Before he had a chance to burst into fully-fledged sobs, Kate shoved the pound coins into the boy’s hand. ‘Just be more careful next time, OK?’

‘I thought you were going to kick him,’ said Dexter when Tiff had disappeared in a cloud of dust.

‘Don’t think I wasn’t tempted.’ Kate grimaced. ‘But you’d only have called the NSPCC.’

‘If you come inside, I’ll lend you a cloth.’

‘Oh yes, that’ll do the trick.’ Kate sighed. ‘A nice greasy dishcloth, that’ll really work. OK, stop it, it’s all gone now,’ she told Norris, who was greedily Hoovering up the last remnants of ice cream with a slurp and a flourish.

‘You never know, we might be able to rustle up a clean dishcloth,’ Dexter said mildly. ‘You can bring him in with you, you know. We’re a dog-friendly pub.’

‘You don’t say. I didn’t think you were anything-friendly.’

He laughed at the truculent look on Kate’s face. ‘Animals are fine. It’s humans I have a problem with. So are you coming in or aren’t you?’

Kate hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.

‘I’ll get home. These’ll have to go to the dry cleaners in Bath.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ Dexter called after her as she headed towards Gypsy Lane.

Turning, Kate shielded her eyes from the sun and scowled. ‘What?’

‘ Sorry.’ Dexter was standing there with his hands on his narrow hips, smirking at her. ‘I thought I heard you say thanks.’

Chapter 20

At Dauncey House, Kate found her parents out in the garden around the pool. Estelle, wearing a black tankini that cruelly emphasised her bulging midriff, was valiantly attempting to read last year’s Booker prizewinner. Since Danielle Steel was more her line of country, this was an exercise doomed to failure, on a par with expecting a stroppy teenager to enjoy sheep’s eyeballs in aspic.

Looking up, only too glad to be distracted from her book, Estelle cried, ‘Oh, darling, whatever happened?’

‘They’re bloody ruined, that’s what happened.’ As Kate showed her mother the damage to her trousers, Oliver swung round and she realised he was on the phone.

‘Yes, yes, that’s Kate you just heard.’ He paused, then smiled at Kate and said, Will says hi.’

In no mood to exchange pointless pleasantries, Kate said, ‘It’s chocolate ice cream, it’s never going to come out and they’re my best trousers.’

‘Oh darling, you don’t know that, maybe we can soak them in Ariel,’ suggested Estelle. ‘How did it get there?’

‘That bloody kid from the deli ran straight into me. I could have strangled him.’

‘Tiff Price?’ said Estelle. ‘Juliet’s little lad? Oh, he’s a poppet, I’m sure he didn’t mean to do it.’

Oh well, that was all right then.

‘My trousers are ruined.’ Kate’s voice rose in exasperation. ‘They cost me six hundred dollars!’

‘Kate,’ Oliver chided, ‘you’re overreacting. He bumped into you, it was an accident. Dear me, anyone would think you’d been stabbed.’

Eyes narrowed, Kate watched her father return to his phone conversation, laughing off the incident as if it was nothing at all. She vividly recalled once, as a child, spilling Coca-Cola over some business documents and Oliver yelling furiously at her until she’d burst into tears. Yet here he was now, acting all ultra-reasonable and telling her not to make such a fuss, purely because Will was listening on the other end of the phone and Oliver was determined to create a good impression and demonstrate that he truly was an all-round great guy.

Nuala, snuggled up in bed, thought happily that, contrary to what other people might think, life with Dexter wasn’t all bad.

It was four o’clock on Friday afternoon and they’d been making the most of their precious free time in the nicest possible way. The pub had closed at two thirty and would reopen at six. Having reacquainted themselves with each other’s bodies, a little doze was now in order, then maybe

‘Nu, fancy a cup of tea?’

See? He was all right really. Smiling to herself, Nuala wriggled and said, ‘Mmm, lovely.’

‘Great. Make, me one while you’re at it.’

‘Oh, not fair.’ Nuala groaned, tugging the tartan cotton duvet more tightly around her and nudging Dexter’s legs with her feet. ‘I’m sleepy.’

Dexter nudged her in the ribs. ‘Me too. Come on, it’s your turn.’

This was true; he had brought her a cup of tea in bed this morning. OK, so it had been way too strong and he’d forgotten to put any sugar in, but it had, technically, been a cup of tea.

‘OK, we’ll just have a little sleep first,’ Nuala bargained, ‘then I’ll make it.’

Whisking the duvet off her and rolling her efficiently out of bed, Dexter said, ‘No, now.’

‘ You’re so mean.’ Grumbling, Nuala covered her nakedness with her oversized white towelling dressing gown.

‘I’m not, I’m just helping you use up a few more calories.’ Lying back against the pillows with his hands resting behind his head, he winked at her.

Nuala weakened; when Dexter was happy, she was happy. He might not be the most perfect specimen physically – his rumpled brown hair was starting to recede and he was developing a paunch –