‘That’s a shame.’
‘Dinner will be served at the outside table in ten minutes. There’s also a very expensive bottle of wine.’
Ebenezer’s face remained a grizzled scowl, but his beard twitched, which I knew to be a good sign.
‘The dessert is white chocolate and sticky toffee pudding.’ Joan could try my portion. If she liked it, I’d have a biscuit instead.
Ebenezer shut the door. It was hard to tell, but I thought it might be slower than when he slammed it, so I took that as a yes.
Fifteen minutes later, as I sat, heart in my mouth, feeling more nervous than I had on my first ever date, Ebenezer’s back door creaked open.
As soon as he shuffled outside, I saw the reason for his delay, causing my throat to constrict with emotion. Dressed in a faded, crumpled dinner jacket and white shirt, with a paisley pocket square and matching tie, Ebenezer had even tidied his beard.
Joan wolf-whistled, causing an eye roll, but there was that beard twitch again, and I felt such a rush of warmth I had to blot my eyes on my napkin.
‘Well, I’m glad I got changed, now.’ It was another warm evening, and I’d swapped my work trousers for a strappy dress with a full skirt.
He grunted again. ‘It’s only respectful to look smart for a lady.’
‘You look an absolute dish.’
Now, that was definitely a smile.
Being a polite, tactful adult, there was no way I was about to start grilling Ebenezer for personal information. My eleven-year-old companion had no such qualms.
‘How long have you lived in Middle Cottage?’
‘I was born there.’
‘Woooahhh!’ Joan said. ‘That must be nearly a hundred years ago.’
‘Eighty-one.’ Ebenezer shoved in a large mouthful of beef, as if hoping to avoid answering any more questions. Joan didn’t take the hint.
‘How long have you lived there by yourself? I mean, were you ever married and do you have any children or did you have brothers or sisters or anything?’
‘Joan,’ I chided, glancing at Ebenezer.
‘It’s all right. Children are naturally curious. It’s a crime how quickly adults can stamp that out of them. I was married. My wife died fifteen years ago. We had a son but he’s dead, too. My sister lived here until she got married at seventeen. She died in childbirth a few years later.’
‘Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry.’ I was aghast.
Ebenezer shrugged. ‘Everybody dies. Hopefully won’t be too much longer for me.’
‘My mum might die,’ Joan added, smashing a chip into a blob of ketchup. ‘I mean, she might die soon.’
‘That’s very unfortunate.’
‘Joan, Dr Morgan said that she’s not going to die any time soon; she might be poorly for a while, but the medication is really helping.’
‘Really?’ Joan looked at me, face an impassive mask. ‘Because with her cirrhosis score there’s a fifty-two per cent chance of dying within two years without a transplant. Hundreds of people die every year before a suitable donor becomes available. So, I think Dr Morgan might not be telling you the whole truth. Oh, and it’s irreversible. She isn’t going to get better.’
‘Every case is different. Dr Morgan is looking at her as an individual, not statistics.’ I tried to sound calm, but inside my heart was like a jackhammer. I had to put down my fork to hide how badly my hand was trembling. Fifty-two per cent? Did Leanne know this? How did Joan know this? I would have to keep a closer eye on what she was up to in the library.
‘Your mother is one very strong, determined woman,’ Ebenezer said, giving Joan a serious look. ‘I’d bet my hat on her beating the odds.’
‘I know. But tomorrow we’re going to find my grandparents and tell them what’s happening, just in case.’
Ebenezer raised his eyebrows.
‘Sam’s coming with us, and he’s a real ranger, for his actual job, and in his other job he hunted people so he’s been helping us. Plus, he loves Ollie so he wants to impress her so she’ll change her mind and decide to be his girlfriend.’
‘Sam…’ Ebenezer frowned in concentration. ‘Short hair, big shoulders, looks like he spends all year in the sun? Smiles too often?’
‘That’s him!’
Ebenezer nodded. ‘I’m sure he’ll prove very useful.’
He endured a main course and dessertful of Joan’s random chatter, before she swivelled her questions back to him. ‘Why do you hardly ever come out of your house or want to talk to anyone?’