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said Arnold, looking anything but sorry. ‘The host fails in his duty yet again.’

      He stood up, lifted the white wine bottle, poured a small amount into Olive’s glass.

      ‘Thank you,’ said Olive. ‘Lovely. I can’t drink red, I’m afraid.’

      Harry gave her his ‘don’t advertise your shortcomings’ frown.

      Arnold poured regrettably small amounts of red wine into Harry and Jill’s glasses, and nothing into his own.

      As she served the food, Jill told them that Harry had been chatting about his boat.

      ‘What sort of boat?’ asked Arnold.

      ‘Oh, are you interested in boats?’ said Harry.

      ‘Not remotely,’ said Arnold. ‘I was trying to please Jill by being proactive in the conversation, as a good host should. It seems I’ve chalked up another failure.’

      ‘Don’t be disagreeable, darling,’ said Jill. ‘And you still haven’t told us what sort of boat it is?’

      ‘She’s a thirty-foot yawl,’ said Harry.

      Arnold and Jill hadn’t any idea what a thirty-foot yawl was.

      ‘Tell Arnold what you said, Harry,’ said Jill.

      ‘I said that I’ve got to bring her round from Emsworth, that’s where I keep her. Olive doesn’t sail.’

      ‘I tried,’ interrupted Olive, ‘but I got very sick.’

      Harry gave her his ‘I think you’re forgetting the frown I gave you a few minutes ago’ frown.

      ‘So Harry suggested, because it’s a big ask to do it on his own, that I help bring her round to somewhere nearer. That’s all.’

      ‘Quick work!’ gleamed Arnold.

      ‘Don’t be stupid, Arnold,’ said Jill. ‘We’re talking boats, not sex. I love you, God knows why sometimes.’

      ‘This is lovely,’ said Olive. ‘Spicy.’

      ‘I’ve told you you should put more herbs in your stews,’ said Harry.

      ‘I have to ask you this,’ said Jill. ‘Arnold’s life has been here and we’ve grown to like it, in a funny sort of way, but what’s brought you here from … where was it?’

      ‘Emsworth. Chichester Harbour. Near Chichester, not surprisingly. Family.’

      ‘Oh, you have family in Potherthwaite?’

      ‘No. We have family in Emsworth.’ Harry laughed. Jill tried to laugh. Olive smiled faintly. Arnold’s face didn’t flicker. ‘Just joking. No, we have a son and two daughters within thirty or so miles of here, all in different directions. I got the old map and compass out and, believe it or not, the most equidistant place was right here in Potherthwaite, and I said to Olive, we’ve got to start somewhere, let’s start there. And this house came up and, Bob’s your uncle, here we are.’

      ‘And how nice that is,’ said Jill. ‘Isn’t it, Arnold?’

      ‘It’s providence,’ said Arnold dryly.

      ‘Well, don’t expect too much,’ said Jill. ‘The town is in the doldrums, if I can put it that way to a sailing man.’

      ‘Maybe we can help to take it out of the doldrums,’ said Harry.

      Jill gave him a look.

      ‘Do you mean that?’ she said.

      Harry shrugged.

      ‘Not really, I was just making conversation really,’ he said, ‘but no, if there are things going on, count us in. Eh, Olive? Mustn’t let the grass grow under our feet.’

      Olive didn’t even bother to reply to this absurd suggestion. To imagine that she wanted to be counted in to anything! And the only thing to do with grass was to let it grow under your feet. That was the whole point of grass. She took another mouthful. It was far too spicy for her.

      ‘I know you taught history, Arnold …’ began Harry.

      ‘Head of History for twenty-nine years.’

      ‘Quite. But what was it you said you did at the hospital, Jill?’

      ‘Jill was the big noise in the endoscopy department,’ said Arnold.

      Olive found herself crunching on a chilli. She wanted to spit it out. How could she?

      ‘Some said she was the endoscopy department. What she doesn’t know about the large intestine isn’t worth knowing.’

      Olive gasped, retched, put her hand over her mouth and rushed out of the room.

      Harry jumped up.

      ‘She won’t know where it is,’ he said. ‘Where is it?’

      ‘At the end of the corridor, last door on the right,’ said Jill.

      Harry rushed out, followed by Jill. There was no sign of Olive.

      She emerged slowly from the last door on the left.

      ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Wrong room. I’m afraid I’ve thrown up all over your vacuum cleaner.’

      ‘Will you be all right,’ said Jill, ‘or should I ring Dr Parker? That’s our doctor. Marvellous doctor.’

      ‘No, no, I’ll be all right now,’ said Olive. ‘I’m so sorry.’

      ‘Dr Parker. We’ll need a doctor. We must sign on with him, mustn’t we, Olive?’ said Harry.

      ‘Her,’ said Jill.

      ‘What?’

      ‘He’s a her.’

      ‘Better still. That’s marvellous, isn’t it, Olive?’ said Harry.

      ‘Lovely,’ said Olive. ‘I’m so sorry, Jill. It’s a top-of-the-range Dyson too.’

       FIVE

       The Fazackerly sisters

      It wasn’t pleasant walking along Oxford Road in the dark – it was very inadequately lit – but she didn’t trust herself to drive the car. She knew that she was still in shock. Besides, she’d had quite a lot of gin and tonic with the Sparlings.

      She walked past ‘Mount Teidi’ – the Hammonds tried to live in Tenerife even when they were in Potherthwaite. Barry had joked that their house should have been named Mount Tidy.

      Barry would never joke again.

      She hesitated outside ‘Ambleside’. It was tempting to call in, so tempting.

      No, she must be strong.

      Why? Why on earth should she be strong? She walked towards their gate, even reached out for the latch.

      But she walked on. She hesitated in the pool of yellow light from each street lamp, then plunged on into the darkness of the Potherthwaite night.

      A girl ran out of the drive of Dr Mallet’s house and nearly collided with her. Sally’s heart almost stopped. The girl looked terrified too, and the large vase she was carrying slipped out of her hands in her shock. She grabbed for the vase at incredible speed, got her arms round it, gained control of it just before it hit the ground, and ran off with it at a great pace. Sally had a vision of golden hair and a very slim body.

      Sally’s heartbeat had barely slowed when she heard a cough from the allotments on her right. Oxford Road had become a minefield

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