‘That must have been horrible too. If you don’t mind me saying so, you had a pretty crappy boyfriend.’
It was nice sitting here like this, talking to someone who was on her side. Layla said ruefully, ‘Oh, he was just one of many. I’ve been involved with a long line of crappy boyfriends over the years.’
Will’s eyebrows rose. ‘You mean . . .?’
‘Until Harry, of course.’ She felt herself breaking into an unstoppable smile. ‘He came along and broke my duck at last. About time too.’ The eyebrow thing was happening again. ‘Why are you doing that?’
‘Doing what?’
‘Looking dubious. He makes me happy. I’ve finally got myself a lovely boyfriend. It’s good news!’
‘OK.’
‘And you’re still doing it. Do you know something I don’t? Have you seen him with someone else?’ She flung the question out with a mixture of challenge and fear.
‘No, I haven’t—’
Layla’s phone began to ring. She said to Will, ‘Well I’m glad to hear that,’ and whipped it out of her bag. ‘Hi, we were just talking about you! What time am I seeing you tonight? Oh right, no, that’s no problem. I have a ton of work actually, tomorrow’s much better. Yes! Love you too!’
Talk about bad timing. She put her phone away, silently cursing the demanding client who’d just insisted on booking Harry for this evening, because now Will was bound to have jumped to the wrong conclusion. Cheerfully she explained, ‘He’s really building up his client list. This year the Cotswolds, next year the world! Are you OK to drop me over to Bourton tomorrow evening at seven?’
Will nodded. ‘No problem.’
‘You should try dating apps. They’re great. Honestly, download Fait and give it a try. You never know who you might meet!’
It was the turn of Will’s phone to burst into life. He glanced at the screen, finished his tumbler of sparkling water and rose to his feet. ‘Customer waiting, have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
There was a single triple-cooked chip on his plate. Reaching across because she just knew he’d left it on purpose, Layla said, ‘Bye,’ and popped it into her mouth. So what if she already had her own? You could never have too many chips.
Only lukewarm now, but still delicious.
He grinned. ‘I knew you’d do that.’
He was about to leave, but a grandmother with a double buggy was struggling to do a three-point turn in the cramped café. Out of nowhere, Layla heard herself say, ‘You don’t trust Harry, do you?’
Caught as off guard as she was by the unexpectedness of the question, Will hesitated. ‘I don’t really know him.’
Had she been subconsciously wanting to understand why he seemed to have taken against her boyfriend? ‘Are you sure you haven’t seen him with another woman?’ It was a possibility, after all, given Harry’s job; maybe Will had spotted something and jumped to the wrong conclusion. If so, she could explain and put his mind at rest.
‘No.’ He shook his head.
Oh thank goodness.
‘Sorry, sorry to hold you up – I need L plates for this thing!’ The grandmother had managed to reverse her buggy into a space between tables. She stood back and gestured energetically for Will to squeeze past. ‘Better escape while you can!’
‘See you tomorrow,’ he told Layla. ‘I’ll be at yours by seven.’
He would be. He always was.
‘Is that your boyfriend?’ said the grandmother, having wrestled the baby out of one half of the double buggy. ‘Hasn’t he got a lovely smile?’
Layla scooped up a spoonful of soufflé. ‘He isn’t my boyfriend.’
‘No? Sorry, when I saw you pinch his last chip, I thought you must be together. Oh well.’ She waggled her eyebrows in approval. ‘He still has a gorgeous smile.’
Chapter 34
Benny’s heart was racing as he left Compton House. The last time he’d experienced this much of an adrenalin rush had been when he’d misread the price tag on a watch Ingrid’s daughter had asked for; instead of four hundred euros it had turned out to have cost four thousand. And of course a week later she’d lost it on a beach in Saint-Tropez.
OK, calm down and stay focused. It was speaking to his cousin Mary last night on the phone that had prompted today’s plan of action. Then again, she’d met her husband when she was sixteen and they’d both joined the drama club at school. Forty-five years, emigration to America, seven children and eight grandchildren later, they were still ridiculously happy.
He hadn’t meant to confide in her about Rosa, but that was another of Mary’s talents; she had a way of wheedling those details out. It was her cosy voice that did it, Benny reckoned. Before he knew it, he’d found himself telling her everything. And Mary, who was addicted to Hallmark movies, couldn’t have been more delighted. She’d only met Ingrid briefly two years ago during a family visit back to the UK, but the two of them hadn’t taken to each other at all.
‘Well this one sounds wonderful,’ she had declared happily yesterday evening. ‘You have to tell her how you feel!’
Just like that. Because of course it was that easy. Back-pedalling out of sheer fright, he’d said, ‘Ingrid only moved out two weeks ago. It’s too soon.’
‘No it isn’t,’ Mary scoffed. ‘You told me yourself you’re glad she’s gone.’
‘Wouldn’t it look bad, like I’m moving on too fast?’
‘Benny, listen to me. You’ve been out with this Rosa a few times now. You had a great time together at the arboretum and at that fancy manor house place you took her to for lunch. If you know something feels right, you need to take action.’
‘But—’
‘Shall I tell you what looks bad?’ Mary effortlessly steamrollered over his objections. ‘You being miserable for the rest of your life because you were too slow to let this one know how you felt and while you were hanging back going “It’s too soon, it’s too soon”, some other guy jumped in and waltzed off with her. Think how annoying that’d be! Imagine how much you’d wish you’d done something about it. If she’s as wonderful as you’re telling me she is, who’s to say there isn’t some other fellow out there just waiting to snap her up? It’d be like really wanting something on eBay then at the last second getting outbid!’
He’d tried to protest at this point that it wasn’t anything like that, but Mary had launched into the long story of how she’d longed to own a nineteenth-century patchwork quilt and had thought her bid would be enough to secure it, but some other complete monster had swooped in and won it with a single second to spare and she’d regretted it ever since. Before ringing off, she’d said, ‘Do something romantic, Benny. Make an effort and win her over before someone else does. You snooze, you lose.’
Which was a slightly surreal expression for a sixty-something grandmother from Wisconsin to use. Benny blamed Netflix.
But her words had stayed with him, niggling away. As far as he’d been aware, there was no other rival for Rosa’s affections. When he’d pointed this out, however, Mary had replied, ‘What about that lodger of hers?’