'I need you, Lucy.'
She needed him too, but in a different way.
'I'm not sure I can get away,' she said.
It wouldn't do to seem too eager, to be panting for whatever he was thinking of. But it looked promising that he'd asked her. Somehow she didn't want to think he was the sort of man who could be engaged to Alice and making up to another girl.
'How long are your parents here for? I suppose you can't leave them to fend for themselves, when you don't see them often.'
She explained about Margaret. 'So I don't know. Mum will stay as long as necessary.'
He just nodded, and she began to wonder how much, and in what sense he needed her. It didn't seem too important, and her optimism, which had risen, plummeted again.
Back at the farmhouse Daisy was in unflustered control. A tray of bottles and glasses sat on a table on the terrace at the back of the house facing away from the yard. As soon as they appeared she brought out some piping hot canapés, tiny, but varied and finicky. They must have taken hours to prepare. At least they would have done if Lucy made them.
'The chickens will be ready for carving in ten minutes, Cas,' she told Doc.
They would no doubt be organic chickens. And it was Cas, was it? These days, she knew most people used first names as a matter of course, but Daisy was a housekeeper. Surely it should have been Mr Finlay.
The meal was the traditional sort her mother would have cooked on Sundays, but with subtle differences. She hoped it would make up for their lunch. Nothing special, Flick had said. What did she call special? The birds were roasted to perfection, packed with tiny sausages and a stuffing she didn't recognise. It must be something exotic. Fluffy roasted potatoes, honey-glazed roast parsnips, fresh peas and baby carrots, and gravy so delicious she thought it ought to be called a sauce. Crème Daisy, perhaps.
For afters there was a strawberry pavlova, feather-light meringue and a coffee flavoured cream, utterly mouthwatering.
'This is an Australian dish, isn't it?' Daisy asked her mother.
Of course she knew it was, but it started Mum off talking about the new recipes she'd discovered, which lasted through the cheese and biscuits.
Then Daisy excused herself and fetched the coffee into the big, rather formal drawing room at the front of the house.
'We always used the small parlour before,' Flick whispered to Lucy as they settled themselves in big, squashy leather chairs and sofas. 'Daisy is converting us to more elegant living.'
It didn't sound as though she appreciated it.
'How is Mrs Thomas? When will she be well enough to come back?'
'Soon, I hope. I may be entirely wrong, but I suspect Daisy has her eye on Cas. From what she has said, it seems she specialises in working for rich, and if possible titled, men. But so far she hasn't snaffled one of them.'
She was like Kate, looking for a wealthy husband. She could view Kate's aspirations with amused affection, but in Daisy it seemed like an unscrupulous machination. What chance had she against her and Alice? Doc could choose a domestic paragon or a beautiful angel.
Before she had much time to dwell on this Doc went out of the room and returned with the collies. Daisy frowned at them, but it cheered Lucy to see that Doc was not concerned with her opinion.
'What lovely dogs,' Mum said, as the two, obeying a word from Doc, settled down in front of the fireplace, even though there was no fire. 'You said you'd like a dog when you settled in the country, Lucy.'
'Oh, yes, I mean to get one,' she said, carefully not looking at Doc. He hadn't mentioned taking her to the dog rescue kennels, and she wondered if he'd forgotten the suggestion. She hadn't wanted to remind him in case he didn't want to go, had regretted his offer.
'I've promised to take Lucy to choose one,' he said now. 'but somehow, with llamas and Tommy being out of action, there hasn't been time. Soon, I promise,' he added, and his smile made her all quivery inside.
*
Mum and Dad went off the next morning to visit Margaret.
'And I'd like to do some shopping, there are some big stores in Oxford, so we'll have lunch there, dear,' Mum said. 'We'll not need a cooked meal in the evening, just a sandwich or a salad.'
'Especially after that feast last night,' Dad said. 'Just like your mother cooks,' he added rather swiftly.
Mum's food had been good. She was the superwoman type. A secretary, she had worked for Dad when the girls were little, doing all the office stuff. Then when Kate went to school she'd got a job as a school secretary so that she could be free in the holidays. She still did a lot of the work for Dad, but the house was always immaculate, proper meals beautifully cooked, never any scratch meals, and she even made them clothes.
Kate had left long before they got up, as she needed to be at her course by nine, and she would be caught in the rush hour London-bound traffic.
Lucy had a couple of clients that morning, and two in the afternoon, so she gave Mum a spare key in case they were back before her. She'd rush home at lunchtime and tidy up. Over the years she'd become used to Mum's pained glances at dusty corners and smeared windows, and there wasn't a lot she could do about those, yet, but she promised herself she would spend Tuesday dealing with them.
She got back before them, as it happened, and was washing lettuce when Doc walked into the kitchen. She gestured to a chair and he sat down. The dogs, she was interested to note, were not with him.
'That was a superb meal last night. Daisy is a talented cook.'
'They are always like that. I'll be getting fat, even though she insists it's all healthy eating. Sometimes I long for sausage and mash, or fish and chips.'
Interesting. And promising. She could just about manage sausage and mash, and fish and chips so long as they came from a shop.
'Have your parents gone to visit their friend?'
'Yes, and to do some shopping.'
'Lucy, about this show. Will you come?' He pulled some papers out of his pocket and, as her hands were wet, put them on the table. 'Here are all the details. Do think about it, if your parents can spare you.'
'Spare you for what, dear?'
Mum and Dad were coming through the kitchen door.
'Mr Finlay, how nice to see you again,' Mum said. 'That was a superb meal your wife cooked last night. You must be very proud of her talents.'
'Daisy isn't my wife.'
He said it rather hurriedly, Lucy was pleased to see, as he got to his feet and tried to move towards the door. Mum was in the way and stayed there, smiling up at him.
'Oh? But I thought Felicity was your sister? Is Daisy related too?'
'She's a temporary housekeeper, as my permanent one is off sick. It's perhaps as well she won't be here for much longer, or I shall get seriously overweight.'
Better and better.
Mum was shaking her head. 'You modern young people, always so concerned about your weight. You can afford to put on a few pounds. And you're a farmer, you must work hard, physically, you need it.'
This had always been Mum's mantra. Kate and Lucy had had to work hard not to become as plump as she was. She was still talking, turning to Lucy.
'Guess who we saw in the restaurant in Oxford, Lucy? Edward Lewis. I recognised him at once, even though it's several years since I saw him. He was at that ruby wedding party for his parents. You missed it, remember, you and Karl were in Paris that weekend. He's done so well for himself. And he was with the most attractive girl. She said she lived in this village. Angela, I think she said her name was.'
She didn't dare look at Doc, but her thoughts were racing. Edward had not gone to work? On a Monday? This was unheard of. Of course, he might be on holiday, but somehow she doubted it. And the girl had to be Alice. He really had fallen hard.
Mum was still speaking. 'I hope you don't mind, Lucy dear, but I knew you'd want to see him again. When we lived in the same road you used to rather hero-worship him, I remember, even though he was so much older and never noticed you and Kate. So I've invited
him and Angela to call in this evening for a drink. And we bought some Australian wine on the way home, and a bottle of sweet sherry, in case you didn't have enough.'
She heard Doc give a slight choking sound which he tried to turn into a cough.
'Lucy, I must be going,' he said, moving towards the door so determinedly that Mum had to get out of the way. 'I'll get Flick to phone you.'
'Mr Finlay, you must come too, after dinner, and bring Felicity and that delightful girl who is helping you out.'
*
She hadn't thought it worth pointing out that with seven or eight people in her tiny sitting room they'd scarcely be able to move. Besides, she was intrigued to see Edward with Alice, how he'd behave towards her, and how Doc would react to seeing them together. Alice, she was sure, would be serene and sweet to everyone. She felt a sudden longing for a pickled onion, something to fight the cloying syrup.
They'd eaten in the kitchen and just cleared away when Edward and Alice arrived. Mum went to let them in and Lucy heard Edward saying something about the broken guttering, which she hadn't done anything about, and it was fortunate it wasn't raining so that Alice didn't get another soaking, ha, ha. So she'd already told him about that, had she? What else had they found to say about her?
'Broken guttering?' Dad said to Lucy. 'I'll fix it for you tomorrow, love.'
'Mind the doorway,' Edward was saying, though Alice was going through into the sitting room with inches to spare. Dad and Lucy followed them in.
Edward never took such meticulous care of her, though he was always polite and attentive. Did he think Alice was a Dresden shepherdess? Not that she cared, she hurriedly reminded herself. If these two got together it solved both her problems. She should be encouraging it. He was showing no sign of embarrassment. She now understood what was meant in old novels by a cad.
Dad was seeing to the drinks, and Edward sat down beside Alice, on her small sofa. It normally seated two, but he was so close to her a thin creature could have squeezed in beside them.
'Tell us about your parents,' Mum was saying, and Lucy stopped listening. She slipped out to the kitchen to fetch some crackers and cheese. She looked for the papers Doc had put on the table, but they were gone. No doubt Mum had tidied them away when they were getting supper ready.
She did a quick search of the counter tops, and discovered that several other small things had been tidied away. Mum had only been there for five minutes! She'd have to do a fingertip search through the drawers and cupboards to find everything. But she wanted those papers. Had Mum read them? Would she want to know all about it, suspect the worst, and be disapproving if she thought she was going with Doc? Really, she did have some antiquated ideas for a woman born in the swinging sixties.
As she went back the door chimes were set off again. 'No Place Like Home' this time. They could say that again.
'I've got to change that thing,' she muttered, opening the door and balancing two plates of crackers on her arm.
'Let me take those.' It was Daisy. 'In here, are we?'
It was the only door apart from the one to the kitchen, which was open and showing the sink, so that seemed obvious, but Lucy let her go. Flick followed her in, grimacing, and Doc was behind her.
He held her back as Flick followed Daisy, and his touch on her bare arm sent quivers through her.
'Did you have a chance to read those papers?'
'Er, not yet.'
She couldn't tell him her mother had tidied them away, and she didn't want to ask her where.
'No particular hurry. You must be busy with your parents here. Are they going to the hospital again tomorrow?'
'I think they'll go every day while they can.'
'I'll drop in, then, if I see your van outside.'
Mum was at the doorway.
'Come in, Mr Finlay. What is Lucy doing, keeping you out here?'
Doc gently pushed her towards the sitting room.
'I was keeping her, I'm afraid. Lucy, we're going to try shearing Rosa tomorrow, so if you have time to spare, I'd appreciate your expertise.'
Mum laughed. 'Is it like giving a haircut?'
'Not unlike. But we use the same sort of shears as they used to do for sheep. You must have seen that, in Australia?'
Somehow they all managed to find chairs. Lucy sat as far back as possible, where she could see them all. Alice was smiling at Doc in a rather wistful manner. Was this apology, regret, or yearning? She couldn't decide. Edward, beside her, was looking stern. The protective knight, she thought, amused, ready to defend his lady.
Flick, like her, was sitting back observing them all, but then Dad took her a drink and began to chat. The only chair left for Doc was one drawn close to Daisy, and she patted it as she looked up at him in what Lucy felt, with a surge of jealousy, was a coquettish, proprietary manner.
She glanced at Alice and for the first time thought there was a hint of anger in her expression. It was fleeting, and she turned to Edward with a delightful smile. She might have imagined it.
Mum began to talk recipes and Australian cooking with Daisy, so Doc edged his chair closer to the sofa and began to ask Edward about his work. Lucy was near enough to overhear, and discovered that Edward had taken a week's holiday.
'I had other plans,' he said, 'until I met Alice, but she persuaded me to stay on at the King's Head. Quite a good pub, for a small place like Shorter's Green.'
His other plans had probably included her, Lucy thought. But Doc was speaking, smiling broadly.
'I'm glad you approve. I own the place, but I have nothing to do with the management.'
Lucy thought Edward looked a little sick at hearing this.
'Oh, really? Profitable, is it?'
'A good enough return. For a pub in a small place.'
Alice leaned forward. 'Cas, you know it's a little gold mine. Like Cuticurls. That's the place where I used to work, that I showed you,' she added, turning to Edward and linking her arm in his.
'You own a beauty salon?' Edward asked, incredulous. 'I thought you were a farmer? What do you do there? Are you a barber or a masseur?'
'I leave it all to my manager, Evelyn.'
'A woman? Well, I suppose they know what's wanted.' He suddenly turned to Lucy, ignoring Alice's correction that Evelyn was a man. 'You ought to think big like that, Lucy, instead of a hand-to-mouth peripatetic hair cutting service.'
She was stung into a sharp reply. 'Where do you think I'd get the capital?'
He smiled, a superior smile she longed to wipe off his face.
'You can alway find backers if you really try. Can't you, Alice? Alice has decided to open her own fitness and beauty centre in Oxford,' he explained. 'Perhaps, if you find getting clients too difficult, either Cas here or Alice might offer you a job.'
'You mind your business and I'll see to mine!' she snapped, so loudly that Mum heard and turned to frown at her.
She was shaking with anger, and with a muttered excuse about getting some more crackers, stormed out into the kitchen.
She was standing by the sink, breathing deeply to get her temper back in control, when hands clamped her shoulders and turned her round. She knew without looking, just from the smell and feel of him, that it was Doc. He pulled her to him and she let her face rest on his soft, cashmere sweater.
'Thanks. I could kill that man! Interfering, pompous, opinionated bastard!'
'Don't kill him. Come and let me help you choose a dog that can jump all over him, or scare him away. Meanwhile, kiss me instead.'
He put his finger under her chin and she looked up. He was smiling, his eyes kind and full of sympathy and, she thought, something else. She raised her lips and he lowered his. They met, and she was savouring it, her hands round his neck, clinging to him, wishing this could go on for ever.
'So that's where you are, Lucy. Where are those other crackers?'
Daisy was standing in the doorway, and Lucy knew she was blushing.
*
Chapter 15
; As soon as Mum and Dad left the following morning, saying they meant to stay in Oxford all day, Lucy began to search the kitchen. First all the drawers. Though she had been at the cottage for just a few weeks it was astonishing what she'd forgotten were stashed in them. She'd put a lot of things away rather haphazardly in the first rush of unpacking, intending to go back and sort them out. Of course, she never had.
She didn't find the papers, but she did find a couple of unpaid bills she'd forgotten about. Next she looked in the cupboards, with no success. In desperation she looked in the fridge, the freezer, the microwave, the washing machine and the oven. She turned out the rubbish sack. Nothing.
At last it dawned on her that Mum might have carried them up to her bedroom, so she went upstairs, debating the morality of searching Mum's things against the fact the papers had been given to her, and she needed them.
Luckily she saw them on the night table Mum's side of the bed as soon as she looked into the room. She'd obviously been reading them. What possible interest could an agricultural show be to her? She flipped through them. Had Doc left details of hotels? Was Mum suspicious? Then she told herself she was a grown woman, She'd been married, she was old enough to run her own love life without her approval.
Feeling annoyed, she took the papers downstairs and consulted the calender in the kitchen. She had no client appointments for the three days of the show. It would be possible to go. If Mum and Dad were still here, Kate would be back. She could look after them. The only problem would be explaining to them why she would be deserting them when they saw one another so rarely. And, she reminded herself, Margaret might have died and Mum would need all the support they both could give her until after the funeral. She couldn't go.
Remembering Doc's invitation to go and watch Rosa's beauty treatment she made a quick sandwich from the cheese left over on the crackers the previous evening. No one had seemed hungry. Edward and Alice had left almost as soon as she had gone back to the sitting room, making her wonder what they had planned, and the others went with them. She'd escaped on the excuse of washing the glasses, and Mum, saying she was still not over jet lag, went upstairs, Dad with her.
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