The Mini-Break. Maddie Please

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СКАЧАТЬ Some chick lit. I’ve done some medical and some psychological as well. And dabbled in erotica …’

      Damn, why did I have to say that? Why did I say the word erotica?

      Would he have read Housemistress and Headmaster?

      Bloody hell, I hope not. My publisher had put a particularly suggestive cover on that one. A close-up of glossy red lips and very white teeth biting a man’s hand. It had done brilliantly in America; they couldn’t get hold of it fast enough.

      He grinned. ‘Really? That’s fascinating.’

       Quick, change the subject.

      ‘And you’re a farmer. A sheep farmer? That’s hard work I bet.’

      ‘It is.’ He leaned back in his chair next to the fire and sipped his beer. ‘My father and grandfather before me too. Although these days a lot of the hard graft is done by my farm manager and his brother. And my mother and my stepfather are still at the big farmhouse and Will does a lot. When I get a bit of free time I sometimes write freelance magazine articles. So what are you writing at the moment?’

      ‘I’m working on a book called Choose Yes. I finished the first draft last year and now I’m editing. My editor wanted me to tweak some changes to the plot by the end of last December and I’m nowhere near finishing. I keep having to put her off with different excuses.’

      ‘What’s it about?’

      This was embarrassing because I kept reworking it and now even I wasn’t entirely sure.

      ‘It’s about a woman who swaps houses for the summer with a doctor. She was single then I made her a jilted bride and now she’s a widow. My editor thought it would work better. The hero is a paediatrician – terribly noble and altogether wonderful. When they eventually meet up of course it’s love at first sight, whoop de do and happy ever after. All that bollocks.’

      He laughed. ‘You sound rather jaded about it if you don’t mind me saying.’

      ‘Well, life’s not like that is it?’

      At that moment the barman came over with two massive meals and placed one in front of me. Then there was the required exchange about cutlery, sauces and did we need more drinks.

      ‘Not seen you in here before,’ he said, wiping his hands on a tea towel before offering me a meaty paw to shake. ‘Pete Skinner, pleasure to meet you. Friend of Joe’s are you? That’s nice.’

      ‘Otherwise why would she be sitting with me?’ Joe laughed.

      Pete raised his bushy eyebrows and tilted his head. ‘I’m just saying; bit of a surprise though if you know what I mean.’

      ‘Thanks for that, Pete,’ Joe said.

      Pete wound the tea towel between his hands and then flicked it gently at the cat to shoo it off. ‘I mean there’ll be some that will have summat to say, I’ll bet.’

      ‘Thanks, Pete,’ Joe said again, his voice carrying a warning.

      Pete laughed and went back off behind the bar.

      The meal looked and smelled delicious and was about three times the amount I would have normally eaten.

      ‘So you don’t believe in love at first sight?’ Joe said after a few minutes.

      ‘Good heavens no,’ I said. ‘I suppose that makes me a bit of a hypocrite. Selling books crammed with love and happy couples when I don’t believe a word of it. Pretending there is a Mr Right out there. That perfect someone. If you just think about it the chances are unlikely and the divorce statistics speak for themselves.’

      He blinked a bit and looked away for a moment. Then he grinned. ‘So you haven’t met Mr Right?’

      ‘Not a chance,’ I said, realising with a surprise that it was true.

      The funny thing was as I said all this I knew I didn’t believe it. Deep down I wanted there to be a particular, special, wonderful person.

      Benedict was nice-looking, well spoken, educated and clever with what my mother would have called ‘good prospects’. He had a lot of positive points. There wasn’t any one thing about him I could violently object to. Even after two years there was nothing terrible. However, recently there had been lots of little things, which were adding up to a series of arguments that got less and less reasoned and more and more heated as I released my irritation about his bike, his hypochondria and his inability to load or unload the dishwasher. And then I’d caught him with a half-dressed woman in my kitchen. I think anyone would find that off-putting.

      ‘This meal is fantastic,’ I said, hoping to change the subject, ‘and this place is everyone’s dream of a country pub. The décor, the look of it. You’d never get anywhere like this in London. It’s all chrome and spindly bar stools and meals served on blocks of wood or bits of slate.’

      ‘I told you it was a nice place. And they brew their own beer in the basement. The building is at least four hundred years old, maybe more. There was a rumour one of the big chains wanted to buy it only recently. There was uproar.’

      ‘I bet.’

      We carried on eating and chatting until eventually I had to concede defeat; in the battle of woman versus food, food had won.

      ‘So, I didn’t think you’d be in tonight, Joe?’

      I looked up as a young woman stopped at our table, one hand on Joe’s shoulder. She watched me with narrow, suspicious eyes.

      Oh heck! The girlfriend? The wife?

      Joe looked up unconcerned.

      ‘Hello, Ellie, how are you?’

      ‘Oh fine, had to get the vet out to Maggie the night before last.’

      ‘Is she okay?’

      ‘I think so. Got the sheep sorted? They say the weather is going to turn.’

      ‘Yes Jim and Ken did that yesterday.’

      Ellie stood looking at me.

      ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’

      ‘Of course. This is Louisa. She’s staying in Barracane House for a few weeks. She’s a writer. You might have heard of her.’

      ‘Have I heard of you?’ She looked at me with flinty grey eyes, her antagonism obvious.

      ‘Lulu Darling, I usually write romances. But occasionally some medical or family saga.’

      Too much information; I was prattling.

      Ellie screwed her face up in thought. Even then she was remarkably pretty. She had a thick, blonde plait that hung down over one shoulder and she took hold of the end of it and stroked it against her cheek.

      ‘Nope I don’t think so. Oh hang on I think I might have tried to read one once. It wasn’t quite my thing. I prefer СКАЧАТЬ