‘You’re smirking,’ she accused him as he sat down again. ‘And is that another double?’

‘I’m not and it is. So, what’s your answer?’

‘Still no.’

‘Why? Because I’m married?’

‘Exactly. For God’s sake, Drew. You know what you do to me. If we went out together –’

‘I cross my heart that the evening wouldn’t end up in bed.’

She sat and stared at him. To spend an evening with him would be bliss. To leave him alone at the end of that evening would be impossible …

‘Maddy! Drew! Just the people!’ Kimberley towered over the table. Maddy heard Drew’s groan and wondered if Kimberley had. ‘Splendid meeting, wasn’t it?’ Obviously Kimberley hadn’t. ‘Let’s hope we can stymie the blighters. If Bronwyn can do her stuff with the Maynards and you can use your influence with Diana and Gareth, I reckon we’ll have Peter Knightley and his confounded golf course on the run.’

Drew stood up, offering Kimberley his chair. She shook her head, smiling at him girlishly. She obviously still had a major crush on him.

‘No, I won’t stop. I just popped across to invite you to a little function I’m having. Oh, nothing lavish like Diana and the others put on. That’s not my style, as you well know, Maddy. But I thought I’d have a barbecue. Well, I’m doing bloody nothing with my horses because of the damned virus, and everyone else is so busy. I thought next Wednesday evening … providing that it doesn’t rain of course.’ She laughed loudly. ‘If it does we’ll all be huddled together in my lean-to! Will that suit?’

Maddy said that it would suit very well, and Drew nodded his thanks. Kimberley beamed. ‘Super, then. I’ll pencil you in.’

Drew waited until she had powered her way across the pub to re-join Barty and the other trainers who were doing serious drinking propped against the bar, then took Maddy’s hands in his.

‘Maddy Beckett, spinster of this parish, would you consider it an affront to your maidenly virtue if I asked to escort you to Kimberley’s barbecue?’

‘And no bed afterwards?’

‘Jesus, Maddy. You know how to bring a man to his knees, don’t you?’ Drew was grinning. ‘Very well, and no bed afterwards.’

‘Then I’d love to.’

Drew stopped the car outside her cottage. It was in darkness. The rain had faded into a misty drizzle. She turned to him. ‘Thanks. It was a lovely evening. I really hope we’ll be able to stop the golf course.’

‘So do I, though I’m surprised that Peter didn’t turn up.’

‘I’m not. Peter hates confrontation. He’ll be working away in the background, greasing palms and offering sweeteners. Peter would have been very embarrassed to have the village baying at him like a pack of wolves.’

‘Not to mention the contingent from Twyford Down and Bath, or the Newbury tree-hugger.’

They laughed together at the memory, then Drew stopped. ‘So your fight against the golf course isn’t a personal one, then?’