“I am swimming. Every day.”

He nodded, sipped at his coffee. Helen put down her spoon.

“So how did he take it?”

“Who?”

“Peter. How did he take being fired? By you?”

It seemed a strange question. “Why do you ask that?”

“Just because he is well known in the village and has worked with us for quite some time. We don’t want to be the subject of rumours or gossip, do we?”

“He was fine… disappointed, I suppose, but my decision is final.”

“Right.” He sipped on his coffee again, but his eyes didn’t leave her face. She could feel them on her skin like laser pointers. “It just seems a rather sudden decision to have made.”

She sighed. He wasn’t letting this go. “Not really. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Arthur says he is fine to carry on with maintaining the pool and I was thinking that maybe we should consider a gardening company to come in and maintain the grounds instead, lighten Arthur’s workload that way.”

“Well, well, speak of the devil,” Hugh said and got to his feet. Helen looked up to see Peter helping his wife into her jacket as they emerged from the back end of the restaurant. Hugh called out, “Peter!”

“What are you doing?” Helen hissed.

“You said he was fine with it. I just want to make sure. Knock any bad feeling on the head.” Hugh had an odd look on his face.

Helen could feel her skin burning through her clothes. She drained most of the wine left in the glass as Peter walked over.

“Hugh, long time, no see. Helen, not so much. You remember my wife, Sally?”

“I do, yes, how are you both?” Hugh replied.

Sally smiled politely at Hugh, but glared icily at Helen.

“Listen, I just wanted to say no hard feelings about the… you know… dismissal.” Hugh said it like a dirty word, shameful. “Helen has explained and I’m sorry, but I have to bow to her wishes on this.” Hugh was looking theatrically sheepish, as though he was mortified at the situation, but helpless to change it.

“Yes, well, these things happen,” Peter said with a knowing glance at Helen.

“I’m pleased you understand,” Hugh said with a surprisingly smug smile.

“Of course, Helen and I understand each other perfectly well,” Peter said, equally smug. Helen scowled at him and drained the rest of her wine. This was the most polite male pissing contest she had ever witnessed.