‘Let’s just forget it and catch up when I get back, okay?’ he said, squeezing me tight. ‘I’m pretty certain I’ll be in need of a good moan about Charlie and the farm again by then.’

‘All right,’ I agreed, squeezing him back. ‘We’ll do that.’

‘And in the meantime,’ he said, letting me go so he could look down at me, ‘don’t get any more ideas in your head about trying to mend me, all right?’

‘All right,’ I smiled.

‘I’ve got enough on my plate without adding well-meaning women with a penchant for feather boas into the mix.’ He laughed as he went back to yanking at the gate.

‘I think you’ll find,’ I called after him as he finally pulled it open and walked away, ‘you were the one wearing the feather boa!’

He waved but didn’t look back and it was only then I noticed Sam and Hope standing outside the pub. I had no idea what they had made of my parting shot, but Sam turned away and headed back inside with a face like thunder.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

I didn’t even make it as far as the bar on Saturday evening before Hope appeared at my elbow and ushered me into a shady corner.

‘So,’ she said, her dark eyes shining, ‘are we all set? I know I thought it was crazy to begin with, but Sam’s moods are driving me to distraction and I’m willing to try anything now.’

Knowing that she was now fully on board with the idea made me feel even worse about disappointing her.

‘I’m really sorry, Hope,’ I whispered, keeping an eye on the bar where Sam was pulling a pint and wearing an expression that could have curdled milk, ‘but it’s not happening.’

‘Joe’s not coming?’

I shook my head.

‘Damn,’ she groaned, no longer bothering to keep quiet. ‘Maybe you should have invited him to the cottage instead of the pub.’

‘What good would that have been when we needed him here?’

‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged, ‘maybe you could have softened him up a bit at your place and encouraged him to come here after.’

I wasn’t sure what her idea of ‘softening him up’ entailed and I didn’t ask, but I was pretty sure you would have to be more than friends to do it.

‘Or perhaps you could have asked him instead of me?’ I suggested, thinking that would have been the easier option.

Her face was a picture, and not one I was sure I wanted to see.

‘Me?’ she squeaked, before throwing a cautionary glance over her shoulder. ‘What difference would that have made?’

All the difference in the world if the evidence she and Joe had unwittingly presented me with so far was any sort of benchmark and I couldn’t help thinking that it was.