Her own proposed confrontation with Diana and Gareth made her squirm. She wasn’t looking forward to it. Naturally peaceable, she disliked any sort of argument, and Diana was going to argue about the spinney, Maddy knew she was. If Bronwyn Pugh had grasped the right end of the stick, and Diana was embroiled in some sort of relationship with Peter Knightley, then it was going to be nearly impossible. And she was sure she’d caught the vibes of something between them at that drinks party … But would Diana be playing fast and loose with Peter and Mitchell D’Arcy?

‘You’re very quiet.’ Drew steered the Mercedes expertly into a gap in the Cat and Fiddle’s car park. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’

‘And thirds and fourths. But not about this.’ She smiled at him. ‘We both deserve this.’

The pub was packed but they managed to find a table poked away in the corner at the furthest end from the juke box. Drew bought her a double whisky.

‘Are my drinking habits that renowned?’

‘You seemed to enjoy it at your party.’ Drew drank half his beer in one draught. ‘Maddy, will you come out with me?’

She looked around the Cat and Fiddle. ‘We are out.’

‘Out. Properly. For a meal, or to the theatre or the cinema.’

‘A date?’ She giggled through the whisky. ‘You’re asking me for a date?’

‘Yes, I suppose I am. Don’t laugh.’

‘I’m not. Not at you. Just at the idea. I haven’t been asked out on a date for, oh, years. Not since university.’

‘But surely, Peter Knightley …’

‘He never actually asked me out. We were sort of together. We went out together. He didn’t ask me.’

‘And since then?’

‘No one.’ Maddy shook her head. ‘Honestly. In the last year I’ve thrown myself into Shadows and no one has asked me out – and if they had I wouldn’t have gone.’

‘Why?’ Drew had emptied his glass.

‘Because I had to prove to myself that I could be a person on my own. It was important. I’d gone from being looked after at home, to being chivvied around at college, and then straight into the relationship with Peter. I’d never been allowed to be me.’

‘And now you are. And making a bloody good job of it. So, will you come out with me?’

‘No.’

Drew stood up, picking up the glasses. ‘I’m going to get refills. I want your answer by the time I come back.’

‘I’ve just given you my answer –’ She stopped as he leaned over the table towards her. ‘Drew, don’t – not in here …’

He kissed her. As his hands were occupied with the glasses, the whole weight of his body seemed to be balanced on his lips. Neither of them closed their eyes.

‘When I come back.’ He straightened up and edged his way to the bar. Maddy gulped. He was absolutely lethal. She cast furtive glances round the pub, but in the shoving, pushing, smoky haze, no one seemed to have noticed that Maddy Beckett had just been wildly turned on by a married man.