‘Oh!’ Didi was surprised. ‘I thought you had your heart set on your own house.’
He looked regretful. ‘I did, but my boy’s not so keen. Reckons it’s too much hard work.’
‘I didn’t say it was too much. I’m just thinking about how long it would take,’ said Shay, evidently not for the first time.
Diplomatically, Didi nodded at the details in Red’s hand. ‘Any that look promising? There’s a sweet little place on Windsor Street that’s had a For Sale sign go up this week.’
‘We’re just heading over to the Prince for a drink.’ Red’s tone was genial. ‘If that boss of yours lets you have a lunch break, fancy joining us?’
‘Dad’s retired now. I’m the boss,’ said Didi.
He winked at her. ‘I know. Shay told me. So how about it, can you give yourself twenty minutes off? My round.’
‘Go on then, just the one. Let me run back and tell Sylvia where I’ve got to.’
Red was peering across the high street. ‘Is that Rosa Gallagher over there? What on earth’s she doing waiting at the bus stop?’
‘Yes, it’s Rosa. Joe died three years ago,’ said Didi.
‘Shay told me that too. Bloody old people.’ Red shook his head. ‘Falling ill and dropping dead all over the damn place, it’s downright depressing. But I still don’t understand what Rosa’s doing catching a bus.’
By the time Didi caught up with Shay and Red, they were seated in an alcove in the main bar of the Prince of Wales. The table was littered with details of potential properties and the manager of the pub had just brought them a bottle of Prosecco in an ice bucket, together with three glasses.
‘Never used to drink this stuff, but I’ve begun to get a taste for it recently.’ Red clinked his glass against theirs. ‘Any excuse to celebrate, eh?’
‘Absolutely.’ Didi took a sip, aware of how close her elbow was to Shay’s.
‘And congratulations.’
‘What, on running the hotel? Oh, it’s brilliant, I love it.’
‘Well actually I meant the engagement. Quite a rock you’ve got there.’ Red reached for her left hand. ‘Who’s the lucky chap? He’s got good taste in diamonds, I’ll say that for him.’
Last night, Shay had steered clear of the subject. To conceal the fact that she was feeling suddenly self-conscious, Didi said, ‘He’s brilliant too. His name’s Aaron and he has good taste in girlfriends as well.’
Red laughed. ‘Touché, of course he does. I wouldn’t expect anything less. So how did you two get together?’
‘It was the Christmas before last. He came along to a wine-tasting event that was being held at the hotel and we got chatting. Then he asked me out. That was it really.’
‘Romantic,’ said Shay.
‘It was romantic actually.’ She bristled.
‘Ah, don’t tease her. You never know how these things are going to happen. But they always do, don’t they? Sooner or later.’ Red gave Shay a nudge. ‘Have you told Didi how you met that last girlfriend of yours?’
Shay said steadily, ‘No, I haven’t.’
Red took a swallow of Prosecco then leaned towards Didi. ‘He was in a hurry at the bank so he asked if he could go ahead of her in the queue. And she said he couldn’t, because she was in a hurry too. Which annoyed him, obviously. Then when he left the bank, there she was, waiting outside for him, and she asked him out on a date. And he said yes.’
‘Wow.’ The sarcasm in her voice might be barely detectable, but she made sure it was there. She raised her eyebrows at Shay. ‘That’s wildly romantic.’
‘What can I say?’ He shrugged. ‘Real life isn’t always a Richard Curtis movie.’
Red was unperturbed. ‘How long were you and Rebecca together? Was it three months? I can’t remember now why you broke up. Was it because she was obsessed with Sudokus?’
‘Dad, can we change the subject?’
‘Oh, I’ve got it now. You finished with her because she was obsessed with spreadsheets, that was it.’
In defence of both Shay’s ex-girlfriend and being properly organised, Didi said, ‘Nothing wrong with a good spreadsheet.’
Watching her, Red’s eyes were bright above the violet shadows beneath them. Then he reached for the slew of property details. ‘OK, let’s take a look at these. Didi, you can give me your expert opinion – I wouldn’t trust that slimy bastard Maurice Welsh further than I could throw him.’
Which, when you compared the size of Maurice with Red’s current frailty, wouldn’t be far at all.
Twenty minutes later, she pushed back her chair. ‘I need to get back. Definitely have a look at the bungalow on Bray Hill, and the cottage behind the garden centre. Don’t bother with this one.’ She pointed to a house Shay had liked the look of. ‘The family who’ve moved in next door are causing all sorts of trouble, and the last thing you need is nightmare neighbours.’
‘If anyone’s going to be the nightmare around here,’ Red told her as she gave him a goodbye hug, ‘I’d rather it was me.’
It wasn’t how Rosa had planned to spend her day, but these things happened. At lunchtime she’d caught the bus to Cheltenham, a slow, meandering journey that had taken an hour and a quarter. Then she had made her way to the independent jewellery shop where Layla had bought the bracelet. Having selected the thin silver chain and begun picking out the charms Layla had chosen, it wasn’t long before the woman serving her said, ‘That’s a coincidence, someone went for those exact same ones last week!’
‘It was my daughter.’ Rosa wondered if a bit of a discount could be on the cards. ‘All the charms have special meanings for us, you see. She gave me the bracelet last night for my birthday and I loved it, obviously, but by this morning it was gone. I think the clasp might have been faulty—’
‘Oh no, definitely not, we don’t have faulty clasps.’ The woman shook her head so vigorously her chins wobbled. ‘We’ve never had a faulty clasp; you just didn’t fasten it properly.’
So much for hoping for a discount. Rosa had been forced to bite the bullet and pay almost two hundred pounds she couldn’t afford for a new bracelet to replace the lost one. Which meant economising in other areas to make up for it. Lots of toast, basically. And putting in extra hours on the orders for dolls, preferably those placed by customers who would actually pay for them.
Anyway, never mind. At least Layla wouldn’t find out she’d been careless enough to lose the bracelet within hours of putting it on. And the bus was now wending its way back home, returning her – poorer but wiser – to Elliscombe.
At long last it drew to a halt at the bus stop on the market square and Rosa queued behind an elderly couple to disembark. As she did so, she noticed that the impressive gates to Compton House were open and Benny and Ingrid had just returned from wherever they’d been headed earlier. In the time it had taken her to travel to Cheltenham and back, they could have been to London . . . or Devon . . . anywhere, which just made you think how—’
‘Oof.’ Missing her footing on the last step, she landed with a splat on the pavement and felt pain shoot like a knife through her knee.