Page 56

“Someone was following me,” I blurt.

Peggy’s eyes fly open and the spark of interest emboldens me. “He didn’t stop me or talk to me or even get on the bus with me, but from the butcher’s to the bus stop, a man in a dark coat and bowler hat tailed me.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t simply walking the same street?”

“He stopped and started with every step I made and stood watching as the bus pulled away. That is not coincidental.”

“No.” She lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “It doesn’t sound like it is, but we’ve been at this for two weeks and we’ve got nothing. Nothing real. You said this would make sense, that we could knock out the truth like candlepins.” She groans. “I’m sorry. I’m being tetchy, but I’m truly exhausted.”

“Hallo!”

The call shocks us both, and we straighten up to find Freddie and Mimi right in front of us, with Charlie behind them.

“How long have you been standing there?” Peggy asks.

“Long enough to wonder what’s got you two so absorbed.” Mimi pulls out the chair on the other side of Peggy and drops into it.

Peggy reaches into her lap and pulls up a pair of lovely navy leather gloves. “New gloves.” She hands them to Mimi, who is already oohing and ahhing over them, then darts a furtive glance at me. “I was telling Gemma I found these in Kidlington today.”

“You said you didn’t go into the shops,” I whisper.

“To loiter on the sidewalk the whole time would have seemed suspicious.” She tosses her comment to me low and quiet before directing Charlie and Freddie as they shift about for a fifth chair.

The conversations pick up and slide across the table from one subject to another as our suppers arrive, we eat, and the plates are then carried away. The whole time I’m acutely aware of Charlie, sitting at the table’s corner next to me. It feels so fraught and formal, but precious too. I want to talk with him, tell him about today, share how excited I am to meet his family Sunday, but not here, not now with so many tucked in with us.

“Would you like another?” He bumps into my shoulder, gesturing to my empty glass.

“Please.” I almost melt. “Thank you.”

He smiles with true warmth, my heart skips a beat, and he pushes back from the table. I reach for his arm.

“We can wait for Mrs. Derwet to come round again.”

He casts about the room. “The whole village seems to be here tonight. I’ll get it for you.”

I watch him weave his way through the tables.

“You’re daft for him.”

Mimi’s comment draws my focus back to the table. My three friends stare at me, wide-eyed and knowing.

“I am not.”

They bat about a round of contradictions but thankfully leave off as Charlie comes back with drinks for the table.

As he sets out the glasses, Peggy whispers close, “Don’t fret. He’s gone on you too.”

Charlie hands the tray to a passing Mrs. Derwet, who offers him both a cheek pat and a job, which he politely declines, then he sits down again and looks at each of us in turn. “What’d I miss?”

He studies us, but despite the smug faces and light sniggers from those three, no one—thankfully—says a word. Until Charlie offers to walk me home. Then the chortling is obvious enough for him to catch their meaning.

Outside he immediately turns to me and helps me into my coat. “I stopped by the store this morning to say hi on my way to work.”

“Did you?” A giggle escapes and I rush to cover it. “I wasn’t in until after opening today because of a baking lesson. But it didn’t happen.” I reach for his arm. “They’re leaving town. Not Mr. Beurton, but Ursula and the children.”

Charlie tucks my arm within his, and I note we are only steps from the pub’s door. Too close to really talk. We walk in the direction of my home.

“She told you that?”