Chapter Eight
Girls’ Night
One Month Later – A Friday Night in July
‘DO I HAVE TO come?’ I whined, digging my heels in as Georgie dragged me up my path.
‘Yes. You’ve been closeted away writing for too long, we haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘But it’s karaoke. Karaoke. I don’t sing.’
‘Rubbish, you’re one of the most artistic people I’ve ever met.’
‘I write. I don’t sing or draw.’
‘Well, maybe you should. I mean honestly, you came to Dilbury to change your life. It’s been seven months and the only thing that’s changed is your location. You still order takeaways, you haven’t learned to cook, you don’t have a man in your life, and despite you somehow still having an amazing figure with all of the rubbish you eat, you haven’t started exercising like you were planning to.’ She hustled me out of the gate into the lane and gave me a wilting stare.
‘If only I had a friend who was dating a personal trainer,’ I said with a hint of sarcasm.
‘I barely see anything of Weston as it is. Find your own man to whip you into shape and prevent a pizza-related heart attack.’
‘I’ve found him, he just doesn’t seem to have realised that he’s found me.’
‘Then he’s an idiot and you need to set your sights on someone else,’ she said firmly as she linked arms with me and we made our way up the lane, me begrudgingly.
‘There is no one else. My sights are set. The heart wants what the heart wants and it can’t be dissuaded,’ I sighed as I thought of McFitty. It had been too long since I’d last seen him. I was getting withdrawal symptoms.
‘Well, until he sees the error of his ways and sweeps you off your feet, you’re going to have a night of fun with me and Daphne, before your very first experience of the magic that is Dilbury fête.’
‘Daphne does karaoke?’ I spluttered.
‘Oh, Charlie, you have so much to learn when it comes to Daphne Jones. There’s nothing she isn’t up for. Mr. Bentley picked her up in his car earlier, they were having a quick drink and bite to eat at The Cock first.’
‘What about Abbie?’ I asked as we passed her cottage and Georgie showed no signs of stopping to knock on her door.
‘Not even a house fire would make Abbie leave her kitchen the night before the fête,’ Georgie scoffed. ‘She’s going for an eighth year as winner in three categories against Lady Kirkland.’
‘Then shouldn’t we be helping her?’ I suggested, hoping for a karaoke reprieve. Georgie gave me an incredulous look. ‘Not with the cooking, everyone knows it’s not my forte. But I can open packets, measure stuff, sample the merchandise.’
‘And we’re back to you trying to avoid piling on the pounds. Trust me, one minute in Abbie’s kitchen, full of the delicious aroma of her sugary baking, and you’d be shovelling in the cookie dough batter so fast your jeans would split and you’d be back to needing to find your own personal trainer. Besides, I’ve learned the hard way, she’s best left to her own devices.’
‘She gets a bit tetchy, huh?’
‘Tetchy? Tetchy is about seven levels down from what Abbie gets. I even warned Miller he was best staying in New York this weekend. She’s terrifying when she’s ranting at the oven.’
‘I’m so glad they’re back together.’
‘Me too,’ Georgie agreed with a smile. ‘So that’s three of us out of the four on our lane sorted with a love life, just you to go. We need to come up with a karaoke-related injury that requires you to get urgent medical attention.’
‘You could smack me in the face with the microphone?’ I suggested.
We made our way up to the village hall, laughing at accident-related song suggestions. The car park was already nearly full, the sound of laughter and chatter drifting out through the open doors and windows. It was a balmy summer’s evening, the type of night you’d imagine everyone would be having friends over for a barbeque. The whole village wasn’t coming for the quarterly karaoke night, as I’d definitely caught a whiff of burning burgers in the air as we’d made our way here. Georgie insisted on treating me to the entrance fee and first drink from the bar, then we headed into the main hall.
‘Cooee, girls, over here,’ Daphne called, waving us over to join her at one of the small round bistro tables that had been dotted around the room.
‘Don’t you want to save these seats for your friends?’ I asked as we reached her.
‘I am, the two of you. Sit, sit, or I’ll be stuck with the boring old farts who are on their way over.’
I shook my head and laughed as she beamed at us when we sat down with her. ‘No Mr. Bentley tonight?’
‘We had an early dinner and a few drinks. He knows karaoke night is my time with the girls. He’s having a few of his friends over for poker.’
‘I bet he’ll be over to poke her later,’ I whisper-giggled to Georgie, then moaned as Daphne cuffed the back of my head. ‘Seriously, you have the best hearing of anyone I know, let alone a … however-old-you-are person.’
‘I have an excellent hearing aid, and they say you’re only as young as the man you feel, and Mr. Bentley’s a good few years younger than me.’
‘It’s the woman you feel,’ Georgie giggled.
‘Well, in my case, it’s the man. And he’s all man before you and your smutty mind enquire, Charlie Faulkner.’
‘Who said I was going to say anything?’ I objected, leaning in to kiss her cheek.
‘Well, you obviously need a few more sex tips. I’m getting impatient waiting for this new book of yours.’
‘Trust me, much as I love the fact that you’re still having sex, I don’t want to be hearing about it. I can come up with scenarios all on my own. And I’d probably have finished this book tonight if I hadn’t been dragged here against my will.’ I shot a look at Georgie, who pulled a face and quickly sipped on her vodka cranberry.
‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,’ Daphne said.
‘From what I hear, Jack’s a very happy boy,’ I tittered, making Georgie splutter her drink and Daphne cuff me again with a giggle of her own.
‘Enough with the teasing, I could teach you youngsters a trick or two. Now, do I need to risk more wear and tear of my hip hobbling over to the bar, or is someone going to fetch me another double whiskey?’ she asked as she opened her wallet.
‘Put it away,’ I told her, covering her hand with mine. ‘It’s on me. Georgie?’
‘I’ve barely started this one.’
‘Well, I may as well grab another while I’m at the bar, as it looks like the night is about to start. Double for you?’
‘Go on then, twist my arm, but then it’s soft drinks. I’ve got to be up at silly o’clock to go and help Abbie cart everything over to the fête.’
‘I’ll come and help too, I’m looking forward to my first Dilbury fête. Right, double whiskey and double vodka cranberry coming up.’
Two hours later and even I had to admit I was having fun. I’d decided to stick to cranberry juice without the vodka, Georgie too, neither of us wanting a hangover. Plus Daphne was completely wasted and it was going to require both of us to be sober to somehow manhandle her home. She was currently perched on a stool, gripping the microphone stand as she chair danced, belting out Cyndi Lauper’s Girls Just Want To Have Fun, as I pondered that she couldn’t have chosen a more fitting song. When she started on a Missy Elliot track, I watched in complete astonishment. She wasn’t even looking at the monitor as she rapped, she knew the words.
‘No dancing,’ I hollered, as she tried to get up off her seat.
‘Oh my God, she’s seriously going to break a hip,’ Georgie gasped as Daphne made it to her feet and started to shake her rump amidst a load of applause and hollering.
‘Someone needs to tell her it’s called hip-hop, not hip-pop,’ I laughed. ‘She really is about to dislocate it.’
‘I think we need to get her home, now.’
We both raced over and cut her off in her prime, flanking her as we held her up and started to make our way across the floor, with her berating us for ruining her big finale. After assuring Mr. Greggs, the village hall caretaker, that we weren’t likely to be arrested for taking his little Kawasaki Mule out onto the main road for all of about two hundred yards, he agreed to help us load Daphne into the flat cargo area at the back to save us calling Andy the cabbie out. I climbed up into the back to make sure Daphne didn’t try and make a bid for freedom, while Georgie hopped up into the passenger seat. Mr. Greggs took his place in pole position, his cheeks showing signs of an embarrassed blush due to some slightly colourful and tipsy language coming from Daphne. He started the engine and ordered us to hold tight as he made his way over the bumpy car park, Daphne in fits of giggles as she lay watching the stars up above us.
‘Honestly, if I come to this event again, I’m limiting your drinks, young lady,’ I warned her as she whooped when Mr. Greggs made it onto the main road and put his foot down, looking as if he was committing a cardinal sin. I half expected him to do the sign of a cross on his chest.
‘Then I’d just smuggle in my own again,’ she hooted.
‘You little minx,’ I laughed, snatching her handbag up to find an empty flask in there, which smelled suspiciously like whiskey. ‘I knew you were too drunk for the amount of shorts we’d got for you.’
‘Girls just wanna have fun,’ she yelled, waving her hands in the air.
‘I’m going to be arrested for disturbing the peace,’ groaned Mr. Greggs as he hooked a right to head down Church Lane, running his hand over his head as Georgie giggled.
‘You know what they say about bald men?’ Daphne shouted.
‘Do we want to?’ I asked, cringing on Mr. Greggs’ behalf for whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
‘Their head’s a solar panel for a sex machine,’ she chortled. I burst out laughing and Georgie buried her face in her hands as Mr. Greggs’ face went even pinker.
‘Well, you won’t be testing out that claim, or we’ll have Mr. Bentley threatening him with a dual at dawn. We’re getting you to bed to sleep this off. Alone.’
‘You’re no fun tonight,’ Daphne huffed, grabbing her chest as Mr. Greggs turned right to head down our bumpy lane. I quickly did the same, not wanting to risk a couple of black eyes.
‘You’ve had plenty of fun for one night. Besides, if we weren’t enough fun, you’d be hanging out with people your own age.’
‘Never got why she hangs out with you youngsters,’ Mr. Greggs tutted with a disapproving shake of his head.
‘They remind me of my daughter. I miss her, so much,’ Daphne sighed, her eyes glistening as a shaft of silvery moonlight reflected off them.
‘Now I know how drunk you are,’ Georgie called over her shoulder. ‘I’m no fan of Roger, but last time I checked, he was still a son and not a daughter.’
‘Not … Roger. Evelyn. My beautiful Evelyn.’
‘You don’t have a daughter called Evelyn, Daphne,’ I said gently, reaching for her hand as her bottom lip started to wobble.
‘Not … not anymore. She died in childbirth. I remember it like it was yesterday. I miss her terribly,’ Daphne sniffed, some tears trickling from her eyes to meander down the wrinkles on her face. I shot a look at Georgie, who pulled a face and shook her head. Obviously this was news to her as well.
‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ I said as I squeezed her hand in mine. ‘You’ve never mentioned her before, Daphne.’
‘I’m not allowed to. Sssshhhh, I’m not supposed to talk about it. Don’t you go telling anyone, promise me? Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone?’ she begged, her face quickly changing to one of fear as she held my gaze.
‘Of course we won’t, but you know that you can talk to us about it whenever you want, right?’ I said, wondering why on earth she couldn’t discuss it. If she’d buried it as a way of not upsetting her husband, then surely she could talk freely about it now that David had died.
‘No talking about it. Forget I said anything, please?’ she pleaded as Mr. Greggs pulled onto her drive.
‘Ok,’ I nodded as I bent over to kiss her cheek, feeling puzzled. ‘Your secret’s safe with us.’ I looked at Georgie again, to find her frowning, as confused as I was at this revelation.
Mr. Greggs pulled down the guard at the back of his utility vehicle and I hopped out, and the three of us stood looking at Daphne lying there, trying to work out the most dignified way of getting her out.
‘I think I’ll have to use the tilt hydraulics to lift the top end of the cargo bed,’ he said. ‘It will tip up and she’ll slide out. You’ll need to catch her, stop her landing on the ground.’
‘How about you show Georgie what to do and you and I catch Daphne? We might need a bit of muscle.’
‘Mr. Bentley has plenty of muscle,’ Daphne giggled, the giggle turning into an unexpected cackle, which was quickly followed by a round of uncontrollable laughter. Well, she was definitely drunk, to go from laughter to almost tears and back to laughter in the space of a minute.
‘Did you know she had a daughter?’ Georgie asked him quietly.
‘Whole village did, lovely girl she was, pretty as a picture. There was some talk about the scandal, as she was pregnant and unmarried, but we never found out who the father was. After she died, Daphne and David said it was easier to deal with if they weren’t reminded of her, so folk stopped bringing her up. Truth be told, it’s the first time I’ve heard mention of her for over thirty years.’
‘How sad,’ I said, swallowing a ball of emotion as I looked at Daphne, who was laughing away to herself as she gazed up at the sky. Maybe that was why she loved hanging out with us, it really did remind her of her relationship with Evelyn. ‘What happened to the baby? Did it die, too?’
‘No one knows or dared to ask,’ Mr. Greggs replied. ‘She was so upset about Evelyn that no one talked about it, just how she wanted it.’
‘She doesn’t even have any pictures of her up in her house,’ Georgie said, shaking her head.
‘Different people cope with grief in different ways,’ I shrugged. ‘Who are we to say what’s right or wrong. Come on, let’s get her into her bed. We might need your help with that as well, Mr. Greggs.’
‘Good God, the missus will kill me if she hears I’ve been out gallivanting with two young women, let alone been inside Daphne Jones’ bedroom,’ he groaned, shaking his head.
‘Well, if you don’t mention what you heard here tonight, we won’t say anything either,’ Georgie reassured him. ‘Come on, show me what button I need to press.’
I couldn’t stop giggling as Mr. Greggs and I crouched like baseball catchers, waiting for the mule to tip up enough to slide a hysterical Daphne out.
‘Woohoo, I’m flying,’ she shouted as her head started to lift, the truck shuddering and making a groaning noise as the hydraulics worked their magic.
‘Hold on to your skirt,’ I warned her, hoping she wasn’t so progressive that she’d ventured out with no knickers on, as Mr. Greggs was about to get a flash of octogenarian beaver if that was the case.
‘I’m closing my eyes,’ he said quickly.
‘No, you’re not. You won’t see her to catch her and she could break something,’ I warned him. ‘Daphne, hold your skirt, you’re about to shoot feet first out of the truck.’
‘I’m holding my handbag.’
‘Forget the bag, hold your skirt, please. I won’t tell you again.’
‘Oooh, bossy Charlie’s come out to play. I bet you’re a secret dominatrix, aren’t you?’ she said, completely ignoring my advice.
‘I’m thinking that covering my ears might be a better move,’ Mr. Greggs grunted, seconds before Daphne whooped with joy as she shot down the flatbed, her skirt gathering up around her waist. I’d never been so happy to see such an unsexy pair of large, matronly, flesh-coloured knickers, as we launched ourselves forwards to stop her from hurtling to the ground.
‘Told you, Charlie. Never a dull moment in Dilbury,’ Georgie laughed as we struggled to get Daphne into an upright position and manoeuvre her towards her gate. ‘I think I’d better sleep over here tonight and keep an eye on her.’
‘I think that might be best,’ I agreed, as Mr. Greggs yelped when Daphne’s free hand found its way to his bottom and gave it a squeeze.
The Next Day – Fête Day
‘Abbie, seriously, I think we need to call the first aiders over,’ I gasped. She’d been farting all morning, except farting was a polite way of describing the noises she’d been emitting, along with some blue language. It had been funny to start with, but seeing her doubled up in pain was starting to worry me.
‘It … will … pass,’ she whimpered, letting out another series of horrendous noises. Passing definitely didn’t seem to be the problem. She’d expelled more gas than an active volcano this morning.
‘Sing,’ Daphne said firmly to Georgie.
‘How’s that going to help her?’ she exclaimed.
‘I’m telling you to sing, not Abbie. We can’t serve people food while she’s playing a symphony of trumps in the background. You have a lovely voice, Georgie, drown her out.’
‘Talk about putting me on the spot,’ Georgie complained.
‘Yes, come on Georgie, sing,’ I urged as Abbie fell to the floor, trying to drown out the noises escaping her bottom with a series of curses.
‘Yes, Georgie, come on, sing for us.’
I turned around, wondering who the deep and sexy voice belonged to, and bounced my eyes between the good-looking guy and Georgie, who looked completely stunned.
‘Weston? What are you … I had no idea you’d be coming today,’ she uttered. So this was Weston. Wow, the girls sure had great taste in men.
‘I thought I’d surprise you, but by the noises coming from the tent, it sounds like I picked a bad time.’
‘Georgie, for goodness sake, sing,’ Daphne repeated. ‘Drown her out.’
‘Oh my God,’ I giggled, hastily covering my ears. The sounds coming from behind us were horrific, and everyone in the queue was starting to take notice. I soon had to drop my hands to clutch my sides as I roared with laughter when Daphne leapt to her feet and started singing Kelis’s Milkshake, complete with some hilarious dance moves and pelvic thrusts that I’d had the pleasure of witnessing for the first time the previous night. Georgie just watched, dumbfounded, and the same look appeared on her boyfriend’s face, his mouth ajar.
‘Help me,’ Abbie mewled from behind us.
‘Charlie, you serve while Daphne entertains. Weston, go and grab a beer and I’ll be with you in a while. Abbie needs me.’
‘Can I do anything?’ Weston asked, while I reluctantly moved behind the table, closer to the danger zone. Sugar-free gummi bears may be sweet going in, but they didn’t smell sweet coming out.
‘Honestly, that’s really sweet and I’m sure you could with your skill set,’ Georgie replied, ‘but this is kind of a sensitive deal and I think it would embarrass Abbie if you came back here.’
‘I won’t be far. You call me if you need me, no matter what, ok?’ Weston ordered.
‘Clear,’ Georgie nodded.
‘Wow, hot and bossy, I like him already,’ I murmured.
‘Find your own, he’s taken,’ Georgie grinned, quickly turning her attention to Abbie as I waved the next customer forwards and shot Daphne an amazed look as she launched into Missy Elliot’s Get Ur Freak On. Who on earth had given her such eclectic music taste?
‘That’s five pounds please, Mr. Spalding,’ I said as I bagged up his jam and cookies.
‘What on earth is going on back there?’ he asked.
‘Abbie’s just practicing the trumpet, she’s thinking of joining the village band,’ I said.
‘Well, she needs a lot more practice judging from that,’ he scoffed as he moved away.
‘I’m actually thinking her stopping would be an even better idea,’ I said under my breath as I desperately tried not to inhale the toxic smell filling the tent. I carried on serving, noticing that Daphne was drawing quite a crowd, which sort of defeated the object of her trying not to bring any attention to Abbie’s predicament.
‘Charlie, move everyone back. Now!’ Georgie barked. ‘We need privacy.’ I turned my head, wondering what was going on, and saw her grab one of the spare tablecloths, opening it out to shield Abbie from our sight. ‘Go, Abbie.’
‘I can’t shit in a box on the front lawn of Lord Kirkland’s manor,’ Abbie wailed. ‘Not after last year. It will be known as turdgate the sequel. Just when you thought it was safe, Abbie strikes again.’
‘You don’t have a choice. No one can see you but me. Do it. Daphne, seriously?’ Georgie uttered as Daphne started Europe’s The Final Countdown, rapping out the drum sections with some serving tongs and miming air guitar between, as my shoulders shook from the effort of not giving in to a fit of laughter.
‘Give us about half an hour, everyone. Abbie’s brewing up another batch of sauce for the last of the scones,’ I suggested as I quickly skipped around the table to herd everyone away from the tent and gulp down some welcome fresh air. Georgie called me back inside and asked me to run home and get some moist toilet wipes, which she kept in her cloakroom, so I started running across Lord Kirkland’s lawn, making it as far as the koi pond before I had to slow down to a jog. I was panting by the time I made it to Georgie’s house and seriously considering giving up pizza, I was so out of breath. I swiped up the packet of wipes and began the long trek back. I really did need to get fit if I couldn’t even manage running home and back in one go. I handed over the wipes, hardly daring to ask what had happened, before turning to start packing away the remaining food items on Georgie’s instructions.
‘Charlie, can you find Weston for me and ask him to come and help me get Abbie home?’
‘No need, here he comes,’ I pointed. ‘Wow, he even walks sexily. Look at that swagger. Does he have a brother?’
‘Honestly, I’ve no idea,’ she replied.
‘Ok, from the look on your face, something’s wrong, and this time I’m not taking no for an answer,’ Weston said. ‘Would you?’ he asked, holding out the lead of a small dog to me. I had to assume this was Bertie. Georgie had told me all about him. I swear she was as infatuated with this puppy as she was with Weston.
‘Why hot,’ I nodded. ‘Oops, not, I mean not. Not hot. Not that you’re not hot. You are hot, but I meant why not. I’m Charlie, by the way. No filter. I write sexy books and you kind of get used to getting it all out in the open. Words, that is, not my bits. I don’t do naturist breaks. I mean, who wants to see everything on display? It would be like working in a butcher’s shop all the time. Nothing would be appetising anymore, would it? Damn it. Can we just erase this meeting and start afresh at lunch tomorrow? Come on, cutie, let’s go for a walk before I make things even worse.’ I picked Bertie up and quickly disappeared, taking my blushing cheeks with me.
I headed over to the ice cream van parked up on Lord Kirkland’s gravel drive and chewed my lower lip as I tried to decide which of the tempting flavours I fancied, as Bertie licked at my jawline.
‘Steady boy, you need to ask me out on a date before the French kissing starts,’ I warned him.
‘Would you say that if a certain doctor tried his luck?’ a male voice said from behind me.
‘Pizzaman?’ I exclaimed, spinning around to find him grinning at me.
‘The one and only.’
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked him, giving him a quick once over. I’d never seen him in anything but his work outfit of black jeans and a white t-shirt, with the occasional jumper on top. Today he was in a pair of knee-length blue cargo jeans, blue Converses, and a very fitted, white short-sleeved Henley-style top that accentuated his muscular physique. I swallowed quickly and dragged my eyes back up to his face as I realised that they were lingering on his toned biceps. I felt like I was seeing him naked for the first time, so much of his upper arm was on display.
‘You said the other week that I needed to have more time away from my responsibilities, and as the whole friends thing is a work in progress, I thought I’d come and see my one and only friend and experience the renowned Dilbury fête myself.’
‘Well, you have perfect timing. I’ve been busy all morning helping Abbie, but I’m on a break. What ice cream do you fancy, on me?’
‘How about I get them? You seem to have your arms full and Mrs. Tibbles appears to have had a drastic makeover.’
‘This is Bertie, Georgie’s boyfriend’s dog. Here, you hold him. The ice cream is on me, I owe you so much more for looking after me,’ I reminded him as I passed Bertie over. He didn’t seem to be discriminative with his affections for anyone as he proceeded to wash Kitt’s face, making him laugh. I got us a salted caramel ice cream each, and Kitt set Bertie down and held his lead so that we could eat without the risk of our treat being wolfed by the pup.
‘I missed you last night. It’s rare for you not to order a pizza on a Friday. I would say the healthy eating regime must have started, but seeing the size of these, I’m thinking not,’ he observed as he licked at the heavenly ice cream.
‘I was all set for a night of writing, then a pizza on the bench with you, but Georgie dragged me out instead.’
‘You went into town?’
‘No, she introduced me to the quarterly karaoke night at the village hall. It’s quite the event around here.’
‘I had no idea you sang,’ he observed as we went to find a patch of vacant grass to sit down on and soak up the sun.
‘Well, everyone sings, don’t they? Even if it’s just in the shower, badly. Turns out I’m actually not as bad as I thought. It was a really fun night, not least watching the pensioners of Dilbury doing some of the more modern songs. You missed some Daphne classics earlier, in fact,’ I told him, filling him in on the morning and making him laugh.
‘I like the sound of this Daphne.’
‘You might change your mind when I introduce you. How long are you here for?’
‘As long as I want. Vicky’s with Mum now and then Brenda takes over for the night shift. I wanted to be near enough to go back if I’m needed, and I wasn’t sure if I’d outstay my welcome. I did kind of spring myself on you.’
‘And I’m glad you did. I’d love to hang out with you without a time limit like normal. Now that I know you’re not in a rush, I’m going to take you to The Cock for dinner, my treat and don’t object,’ I warned, holding my fingers up against his lips as he went to open his mouth. ‘You’ve been so good to me, it’s the least I can do.’
‘Drinks on me then?’ he mumbled.
‘Oh dear, you may regret that offer. You have no idea how much vodka I can down in a night,’ I laughed, removing my hand to give Bertie the belly rub he was demanding.
‘You don’t seem worse for wear after your night out.’
‘Because I only had two drinks. Daphne got slaughtered and we had to manhandle her home early, in the caretaker’s utility truck.’
‘I thought she was in her eighties?’ Kitt chuckled.
‘She is. Trust me, since moving to Dilbury, I’ve come to understand that age really shouldn’t be a hindrance to having fun. She’s amazing, I think you’re going to love her when you meet her.’
I laughed as Kitt and Bertie jumped when Reverend Potter turned on the microphone of the PA system and called for attention.
‘Come on, Abbie,’ I said, crossing my fingers as he started to read out the awards. ‘Yes!’ I shouted, making Bertie bark excitedly as I clapped vigorously to hear she’d kept her titles.
‘Wow, you guys take this thing seriously, huh?’ Kitt asked.
‘Abbie does. Come on, I’ll need to help pack up her tent, you can lend a bit of muscle.’
‘Who says I have any muscle?’
‘I’ve seen them now,’ I grinned, poking a finger into his firm bicep.
‘Watch out, I at least expect a woman to buy me dinner before touching me up,’ he winked, quickly standing up and brushing grass off his jeans.
‘You’re safe in my hands, I won’t ravish you against your will,’ I said, accepting the hand he offered to pull me up.
‘Unlucky me then,’ he drawled. I shoulder bumped him as I tugged on Bertie’s lead and we started making our way over to the tent. We were hampered by a crowd that was gathering around it, the sounds of shrieks and shouting reaching our ears.
‘My God, what’s going on?’ I gasped, as the people in front of us parted like the Red Sea and a God-awful smell made me crinkle my nose, seconds before Lady Kirkland stormed past, looking like someone had thrown a few chocolate milkshakes all over her. I pushed my way through to the tent to find Georgie scolding a smirking Daphne. ‘What happened? Lady Kirkland was covered in chocolate or something.’
‘That was no chocolate,’ Georgie huffed, glaring at Daphne.
‘What am I missing here?’ I asked as I flitted my eyes between them, while Georgie bent over to scoop up Bertie.
‘She had it coming,’ Daphne stated firmly.
‘No one has that coming, Daphne, no one,’ Georgie stated, before turning to fill me in. She looked horrified as I roared with laughter and threw Daphne a high five, which she returned, while Kitt stood speechless at the revelation. ‘Don’t encourage her, Charlie. It would be bad enough behaviour for a teenager, let alone an eighty-year-old.’
‘Stop using my age against me, Georgie Basset. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun from time to time. Life is too short to be serious and boring. Now, is someone going to introduce me to this fine young man?’ she said, making it clear that the lecture was over.
‘Sorry, you threw me with the whole shit shower debacle,’ I giggled. ‘This is my good friend, Kitt, also fondly known as Pizzaman.’
‘Ah, we meet at last.’ Georgie smiled and held out her hand. ‘I’m Georgie, I live next door.’
‘Hi, Georgie, great to finally meet you.’ Kitt took her hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek.
‘You too. If I’d known how cute you were, I’d have started ordering takeaways myself,’ she said, flashing me a look.
‘They don’t do rabbit food deliveries, Georgie. You’re too careful with your diet to order the calorific goodness that Kitt delivers. Kitt, this is my other good friend, Daphne.’
‘Pleasure to meet you, Daphne, I’ve heard so much about you,’ Kitt said as he bent over the table to kiss her cheek as well.
‘And I’ve not heard nearly enough about you. Are you single?’
‘Ermmm, yes,’ he replied cautiously.
‘Don’t worry, dear, I like myself a toy boy, but I’m not a cradle snatcher,’ Daphne reassured him as she gave him the once over. ‘He’s very good-looking, Charlie.’
‘He’s not a bull at the cattle market, Daphne,’ I laughed, feeling my cheeks colour up. ‘And he can hear you.’
‘Just saying. Don’t know why you’re chasing after that doctor of yours when you have a hot, young, single man like this interested in you.’
‘Daphne, honestly. He’s not interested in me like that, we’re just friends. Good friends, aren’t we, Kitt?’ I asked, batting his arm as I looked at him for some support.
‘Yes, just friends,’ he agreed.
‘I don’t get you youngsters sometimes,’ Daphne said with an exasperated sigh. ‘Well, come on then. If you’re not going to smooch in the corner, you can help us pack up.’
‘Seriously, you didn’t find the Lady Kirkland incident funny?’ I asked Georgie as we started lifting the empty boxes.
‘Hello, I’m human, of course I did,’ she giggled. ‘But she can’t be allowed to think she can get away with that sort of behaviour. Someone needed to show some disapproval.’
‘Honestly, Georgie, I don’t think Daphne cares what anyone thinks, and I kind of love that about her.’
‘Me too,’ she reluctantly agreed. ‘Do you think we’ll be that much fun when we’re her age?’
‘No,’ I scoffed. ‘I plan to be worse.’
‘Stop judging,’ I warned as I pushed my dessert plate to one side, Kitt shaking his head in amazement.
‘I’m not judging, it’s great to see a girl with an appetite like yours, I’m just … in awe at how much you can tuck away and keep your figure.’
‘Practice. Lots and lots of practice,’ I grinned, squinting at him as I felt the room spinning. I’d made up for last night’s lack of booze, but stupidly I’d done most of it on an empty stomach before our food arrived. ‘But I think I’m going to wake up one morning with an arse the size of a hippopatamousse.’
‘Hippopotamus,’ Kitt chuckled.
‘That’s what I said.’
‘No, it’s not. I think I’d better cut you off and get you home.’
‘But I’m having fun,’ I pouted. He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest.
‘Giving me that look won’t work. You need lots of water and an early night.’
‘Spoilsport,’ I huffed. I grabbed the bill out of Tony’s hand as he went to put it on the table, making sure Kitt didn’t get a chance to take it. ‘It’s on me, I said it was on me, Kitt, Kitt, you know what, I have no idea what your surname is.’
‘Fraser,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’d have thought you’d have asked about my Christian name before my surname.’
‘You’re telling me you’re not really called Kitt?’ I asked as I handed some notes to Tony.
‘You’ve given me a forty-pound tip, Charlie,’ he grunted.
‘Oops, my bad,’ I uttered, pulling a few notes out of his grasp. ‘How’s that? Still a tip?’
‘Yes, but I’m thinking I should have just kept quiet,’ he replied with a droll tone as he walked away.
‘So, Kitt Fraser, what’s your real name?’ I asked, as he stood up and offered me his arm.
‘That sort of is my real name, but my full name’s Christopher.’
‘Christopher,’ I mused as I grasped his arm and we made our way to the exit. ‘You don’t seem like a Christopher to me.’
‘Well, I assure you that I am, though the nickname Kitt stuck when I was younger.’
‘You ate lots of Kit-Kats, huh? A bit of a chocolate fiend? I hear you, Mister.’
‘No,’ he laughed. ‘Kitt’s an abbreviation for Christopher.’
‘Well, that’s silly, it doesn’t sound anything like Christopher. Surely you’d be called Christ, Topher, or Fur if someone was going to shorten it.’
‘Or simply Chris,’ he suggested with another chuckle. ‘It is to do with Jesus Christ, though. Actually, they’re both derived from connections to him.’
‘You’ll be telling me next that you were a vicar in your former life?’
‘No, not a vicar. Hey, hey, careful,’ he warned as I stumbled on one of the pub forecourt flagstones.
‘I’m feeling a bit drunk now that we’re in the fresh air,’ I complained, closing my eyes as everything started spinning.
‘Oh God,’ I heard Kitt say, seconds before I felt myself falling and everything went dark.
I groaned as I woke up, not sure how I’d ended up in my comfortable bed or why I had such a dry mouth.
‘Stop it, Tibbs,’ I moaned, batting away her paw as it brushed over my face.
‘Come on, drink some more water for me.’
‘Oh my God, how drunk am I? You can talk,’ I uttered, rolling onto my back as I tried to open my eyes. ‘And you have a really gruff voice for a girl, Tibbs.’
‘Because it’s Kitt, not Tibbs,’ came the voice again, laughing. ‘Charlie, you need to drink more water.’
‘Kitt, it’s you? Kitt, not cat?’ I giggled, then clutched my head as it hurt with the movement. ‘What’s going on?’
‘You virtually passed out on me. I had to carry you home, then hold your hair back as you were sick in the kitchen sink. I took your shoes off and carried you upstairs and put you to bed, but you need to drink some more water.’
‘I was sick?’ I croaked, propping myself up on my elbows as I squinted at him, just the soft bedside lamp illuminating his face.
‘Yes, but on the plus side, you now have extra room for a big breakfast in the morning. I do a mean fry up.’
‘You’re staying?’ I asked as I accepted the water he offered me.
‘I’ll sleep on the sofa. I don’t like the idea of leaving you when you’re this bad.’
‘This is nothing, though it’s been a long time since I got so drunk,’ I admitted. ‘What about your mum?’
‘I’d paid Brenda for the night, in case you were busy. I was going to go and have a few pints in town, then enjoy an early night and revel in not having to be on call.’
‘God, I’m so sorry, now you’re looking after me instead of her.’
‘It’s ok, it’s still relatively early. I’ll still get a good night’s sleep. I’ll just feel better if I’m in earshot, in case you’re sick again.’
‘Well, if you insist on staying, you’re not sleeping on my sofa. You can have the spare room, the bed’s really comfortable.’
‘Then we have a deal. I’ll go and get you some more water.’ He took the glass off me and headed over to the bedroom door.
‘Kitt,’ I called as I flopped back down onto my pillows.
‘Yes?’
‘You’re a really good friend, you know that, right?’
‘I know that, Charlie,’ he replied, then thudded his way down the stairs as I shut my eyes to stop the room from spinning again.