‘I got a quadruple whisky.’ Drew placed a half pint glass in front of her. ‘Psychologically, it’s the same as four singles, isn’t it? I just thought it would save time trying to fight my way through to the bar again. Anyway, all the staff are pie- eyed. I think they must have eaten on duty.’ He took her hand across the table, caressing her fingers with easy familiarity. Luckily, the villagers were all too wrapped up in horsy talk to take any notice of this intimacy.

‘Suzy is holding forth on Luke versus Richard to the guy from Channel Four.’ Drew’s eyes were definitely not talking about Suzy. ‘I was listening in. They want to interview them both tomorrow before they leave for Epsom.’

‘They’ll be able to bill it as “The Big Fight”, then.’ Maddy giggled. ‘I still can’t see them shaking hands and behaving like gentlemen. The papers were full of speculation this morning.’

Drew scanned the bar. ‘I’m surprised Fran and Richard aren’t in here tonight. Everyone else is. Well, with the exception of Peter and Stacey, of course. I’d have thought Fran would have enjoyed all this.’

‘I’m sure she would, but she phoned me this morning. It appears that when Richard isn’t working Saratoga he’s concentrating on becoming a father.’

Drew drank half of his lager and laughed. ‘Lucky Fran.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought Richard was your type.’

‘Absolutely not.’ He picked up her hand again and gently kissed her fingers. ‘You are.’

She shivered with lust. It was even worse now, because there was no speculation. She knew how glorious his lovemaking was.

‘Good evening, Maddy. Hello, Drew.’ Bronwyn took in the feverish colour, the linked hands, the body language, and adding them up made a very neat four. ‘You’re something of a regular couple now, aren’t you?’

‘Just being neighbourly. My wife will be here tomorrow.’

‘And probably not before time.’ Bronwyn was wearing her righteous hat.

‘Won’t you sit down?’

‘No, thank you all the same.’ Bronwyn’s lips were pursed. ‘And I’m surprised at you, Maddy. Sitting at this table.’

‘It was the only one available.’

‘And that’s not surprising, is it? After all, you know what they say, don’t you?’

‘That it’s haunted?’ Maddy rattled her half pint of whisky against her teeth. ‘I don’t believe that.’

‘It’s not haunted. It’s the baby table. Everyone who sits here seems to fall pregnant. Surely you know that? That nice girl who worked for John Hastings, three or four girls from the new estate, young Kat, even my Natalie. And,’ she looked meaningfully at Drew, ‘some ladies from Wantage and area who are having trouble in that department, come here deliberate.’

‘Oh.’ Maddy bit her lip. ‘I knew there was something.’