Название | The Newcomer |
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Автор произведения | Fern Britton |
Жанр | |
Серия | |
Издательство | |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780008225223 |
Angela felt squashed. ‘Yes. Well. Simon has left big shoes to fill.’
‘Too bleddy right he has,’ Piran retorted.
Jack sauntered up and sniffed at Mamie’s leg. Her arms aching, her teeth chattering, her heart banging, she could only watch as the little dog raised his rear leg and peed on her foot.
Piran wiped a demon’s smile from his face with a huge hand. ‘Come on boy,’ he said, his eyes still dancing with amusement. ‘Home.’
‘What a horrible gorilla of a man!’ Mamie complained as she squelched through the back door.
‘I’m going to run you a bath,’ Angela said. ‘Give me your clothes and I will launder them.’
‘What an absolute oaf,’ Mamie said emphatically, peeling off her sodden things.
‘Who is?’ asked Robert as he ambled into the kitchen and backed out again at the sight of his aunt-in-law in bra and pants.
‘Don’t be so priggish,’ responded Mamie. ‘Never seen a woman in her underwear before?’
Angela gave him a warning glance. ‘Make yourself useful and put the kettle on. Mamie fell into the sea and Piran saved her.’
‘Good old Piran.’
‘I saw nothing good in the man.’ Mamie’s anger grew and filled the kitchen. ‘He was unspeakably rude to me and insulted Angela.’
‘Really?’
‘I don’t think he meant to. It was all very heat-of-the-moment stuff,’ said Angela, moving to the kettle that Robert had ignored. ‘Tea? Anyone?’
‘Tea?’ Mamie was unimpressed. ‘I need some brandy.’
‘Robert, please get Auntie Mamie some brandy and fetch her dressing gown and a warm towel from the airing cupboard.’
‘The pink silk wrap on the bathroom door, Robert,’ Mamie added. ‘Toot sweet, if you could. I’m freezing my jacksie off here.’
After a hot bath and a change into warm pyjamas, Mamie came downstairs to find the sitting room fire had been lit. A proper afternoon tea was laid out on the piano. Cheese sandwiches, ham sandwiches, scones and cake. Angela was setting down the teapot.
‘Angela, what a spread,’ Mamie exclaimed. ‘The country is doing you good.’
Angela sat heavily on the sofa and sighed. ‘The leftovers from yesterday’s farewell party for Simon and Helen. I hope the sandwiches are not too curled at the edges.’
Robert entered with an armful of logs. ‘Simon has a fine log store round the side of the house.’ He crouched in front of the crackling grate and balanced a log onto the blaze. ‘Very impressive. Simon knows what he’s doing obviously. A good log store takes understanding and time to …’ he looked up at the unimpressed faces of Angela and Mamie and changed tack, ‘Ah. There you are, Mamie. Better after the bath? Another brandy?’
‘If you don’t mind. Then I shall tell you all about this afternoon’s misadventure.’
After he’d heard the story, he was torn between respect for Piran and a desire to go round and punch his lights out. ‘I had my doubts about the man when I met him yesterday.’
‘Did you really?’ Angela contradicted. ‘I thought you said you were looking forward to going fishing with him.’
‘Going fishing with him and liking him are two entirely different things.’
‘He’s a swine.’ Mamie tipped the brandy into her mouth and held out the glass for Robert to refill.
Angela plonked the remains of a Victoria sponge onto her plate and sat down. ‘I think he was in shock. Remember, Robert, when Faith was small and we lost her in that hypermarket in France? When we found her you shouted at her until you were hoarse.’
‘That was with relief.’
‘Quite. And I believe that Piran was feeling the same. Relief. Shock. The poor man was only out on a walk with his dog and ended up fully submerged in the icy Atlantic, saving the life of a strange, fully clothed woman.’
Mamie growled, ‘I was the victim.’
Angela pulled a face of disbelief. ‘You have never been a victim. I shall go and see Piran and Helen tomorrow and pour oil on troubled waters. We have only just arrived and I want to be friends with everybody. I want this year to be a success.’ She glared at her aunt and husband. ‘You two have to buck up and be nice. Understood?’
Mamie pursed her lips and looked over at Robert. ‘I suppose I could,’ she said reluctantly. ‘If Robert will.’
‘I will,’ answered Robert slowly. ‘Just as long as no one else takes a pop at either of you.’
‘Good. That’s sorted.’ Angela smiled at them both and pushed a large chunk of Victoria sponge into her mouth.
Two hundred yards away, across the village green, Helen was having words with Piran in her cottage.
‘How could you? You have insulted Angela by suggesting she’s not welcome here, and you have been extremely rude to an elderly lady.’
‘She ain’t no lady. I can tell. Smelling like a tart’s boudoir and pouring herself all over me when I put her down. You should have seen her face when Jack cocked his leg on her foot. Priceless.’
Helen picked up Piran’s wet jumper from the rail of the Aga and threw it at him. ‘Goodbye.’
Piran caught the jumper in astonishment. ‘Now what’s got into you? I thought you was cooking supper?’
‘I am cooking supper. But not for you. I don’t like it when you go all Neanderthal. Go to the pub and get something there.’
‘But my trousers are still damp.’
‘Well, go back to your house, get changed, and then go to the pub.’
Scowling, Piran went to the door, whistling up Jack behind him. ‘Come on, Jack. Someone’s had a sense of humour failure.’
Helen winced as he slammed the front door. Piran was one of the kindest, gentlest men she had ever met. But, unfortunately, he still had rather a large slice of chauvinism in his blood.
Helen abandoned the idea of making a lasagne, and took a Scotch egg, some salad and a bottle of wine out of the fridge. Putting the small meal together she went to her snug front room and turned on the television. A romantic comedy starring Ryan Gosling was just starting. Helen settled into the sofa and balanced her plate on her lap. She took a sip of wine and put her feet up.
‘He’ll be back,’ she said to herself. ‘Idiotic man.’
‘Good morning, darling.’ Mamie put her face around the door of Angela’s office where Angela was on her knees stacking books onto Simon’s emptied shelves. ‘Sleep well?’
‘Always.’ Angela heaved herself up and kissed her aunt. ‘How are you after yesterday? No bruises or chills?’
Mamie laughed her throaty laugh. ‘It’d take more than a dunk to kill me off. And in retrospect, my rescuer was rather handsome.’
Angela shook her head. ‘He’s taken.’
‘My dear, I have never stooped to stealing a man.’
‘Well, don’t start now, please.’
‘Even when John was having a “break” – I think that’s the modern term – from Yoko, I told him firmly, no.’
‘You mean …?’
‘Yes.