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Just The Way You Are(99)

Author:Beth Moran

‘Don’t want to give a certain forest ranger the impression you’re already spoken for.’

Damn my red-head complexion. I could feel my cheeks betraying me even as I tried to laugh it off. ‘Oh, neither of us are interested in being more than good friends.’

He harumphed. ‘When a man looks at a woman the way he looks at you, it’s not friendship on his mind.’

‘Well, for this evening anyway, I am very free to have dinner with whoever I like, without worrying what the village grapevine might make of it. Will you join me, or have you got a date already lined up?’

‘What’s on the menu?’

‘Leftovers from meals I’ve been brought round. Oh, and there’s blackberry pie for dessert.’

He nodded in approval. ‘I’ll get my shoes on.’

The conversation wasn’t exactly scintillating without Joan’s constant chatter, but we talked about Leanne and her parents, and the work that Ebenezer had been doing in the garden.

‘Now that we’re friends, you could do some gardening during the day, when I’m around, so I could pick up some tips. Joan might even like to help you.’

He pursed his lips. ‘I like doing it early.’

‘What about in winter, when it’s still dark?’

‘Less to be done in winter.’ He took a sip of water. ‘I don’t sleep so well these days. Still not used to an empty bed. Getting out here with the birds and the beasties helps it not seem so…’ I waited while he stared at his plate for a long moment. ‘It’s a bit of company. The kind who don’t ask intrusive questions about how you’re feeling.’

‘Well, I for one am very grateful. But if I can keep thanking you with a meal or a drink from time to time, I’ll try really hard not to ask anything intrusive. Although I can’t vouch for Joan.’

It was another gorgeous summer evening. Sultry and sweet with the scent of honeysuckle, cut grass and the faintest hint of a bonfire from somewhere down the lane. In between the birdsong a distant tractor hummed, and the sky was palest periwinkle.

I curled my bare toes in contentment, my mother’s shadow banished by the glow of the evening sunshine. It had been a hell of a week, but here, sipping coffee with my neighbour, I soaked up the peace and embraced the moment.

I even managed to stop thinking about Sam.

Joan arrived back just after nine, and after a solid fifteen minutes of describing her entire trip out, from the colour of the waiter’s tie to the number of Maltesers on her ice-cream sundae, I escorted her up to bed. Hurrying back down, hoping that Ebenezer hadn’t taken the opportunity to slip back inside now the sun had begun to set, I was offering him another drink before I’d even spotted that the bald head and grumpy T-shirt were now a sun-kissed crop and a checked shirt.

‘Hi!’ I skidded to a stop. Nesbit had no such qualms, running to greet the collies, Scout and Willow, as long-lost friends.

‘Hey!’ Sam jerked to attention, rubbing a hand through his hair as if self-conscious.

‘Your neighbour offered me a drink. Having said that, it was about ten minutes ago.’ He checked his watch.

‘He can be quite slow.’

‘Right.’

‘He can also be quite strange. You’re probably best off having one with me, instead.’

He shifted in the chair. There was a chance I was imagining it, but Sam really did seem a bit awkward. ‘Okay, thanks. That would be great.’

‘Tea, coffee? A beer?’

‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’

Before I could decide what that was, the door of Middle Cottage opened and Ebenezer shuffled out carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses on a tray.

‘Oh, wonderful. We were just wondering what to drink.’

‘I’ll leave these here,’ Ebenezer said, placing the tray on my table. He then twitched his face at me in a gesture so out of character that it took me a few seconds to realise that he’d actually winked.

‘There’s only two glasses.’

‘I’ve only got two glasses,’ he said.

‘No problem, I can fetch one.’

‘No, no need to bother with all that. You two enjoy your evening.’

‘Ebenezer, it’s less than ten steps away; it’s no trouble.’

‘I’m feeling very tired. I need to go to bed,’ he said, suddenly finding the ability to scurry inside before we could object any further.

‘I’m so sorry about that. As I said, he’s a bit strange.’