Jonathon touched his arm. “Go on. Go back to the pub. It’s likely to be a busy night, with all these attendees staying in the village. Poor Abi will be rushed off her feet.”
Mike gave him a grateful smile. “You sure? I don’t want to leave you to deal with all this.”
Jonathon laughed. “Deal with what? The waiters will clear the tables, the volunteers are already lining up outside to set up for tomorrow, and Janet is going to lock up when everyone has left. They don’t need me—which is a good thing, because I’ll be in the pub, helping you.”
If they weren’t sitting at a table in a room full of mostly strangers, Mike would have leaned over and kissed him. “You’re wonderful,” he said softly.
“Is there a number I can call for a taxi?” Teresa asked loudly.
“There’s no need,” Mike assured her. “I’m going to the pub myself. I’ll take you.”
She waved her hand. “I don’t want to impose. Just give me a number for a taxi.”
“Here, I’ll call one for you.” Professor Harcourt removed his phone from his pocket, then scowled at the screen. “Damn thing’s dead. The battery must have run out.”
“See?” Teresa sounded almost gleeful. “What did I say about technology?”
Jonathon coughed. “Except in this case, having a notebook wouldn’t help you find a taxi.”
She gave him a hard stare.
“How about I drive both of you to the pub?” Mike announced. “Only, can we leave now?” He had visions of Abi struggling to cope on her own with a packed pub.
“That works for me,” Professor Harcourt said cheerfully. “I’m staying in a B and B in the village. But I wouldn’t say no to a nightcap. Would you like a drink, Teresa?”
“Make that a coffee and you’re on. There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you.” Teresa rose to her feet, grabbed her notebook, and shoved it into her large shoulder bag. “Well, come on if we’re going.”
Mike muttered under his breath as he led them out of the hall and toward his 4x4. Jonathon came too, chuckling to himself. As he opened the car door, Mike spied Heather. “Want a lift to the pub?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got my car, thanks. And to be honest, the only place I’m going is my bed. I want to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll say good night.” He gave her a wave, then got behind the wheel.
“I thought you were in a hurry?” Teresa murmured from the back seat.
Mike was going to be so happy when the pub was closed and he finally got into bed, hopefully with Jonathon staying the night.
A short while later, he pulled up in front of the pub and everyone got out.
“You go and park the car. I’ll take them inside.” Jonathon squeezed his arm. “Then I’ll get behind the bar and help you.”
“Thanks.” Mike left them and drove around to the rear of the pub. From the sounds that emerged, it was a very busy night. He hurried into the building through the back door, his eyes widening when he saw the mess in the kitchen. It looked like Abi had been inundated with food orders. When he stepped into the pub, he was glad Jonathon had come along too.
The pub was the busiest he’d ever seen it. Every table was occupied, every chair was taken, and many patrons were standing around, drinking. Thankfully, Jonathon had secured a table for Teresa and Professor Harcourt, thoughtfully tucked away in a quiet corner. Except it didn’t stay quiet for long. As soon as people saw who had arrived, they made a beeline for Teresa.
Mike could see it was going to be a long night.
Jonathon had already started clearing tables, bless him, and was loading the glass washer. Abi looked like she needed a break, so Mike told her to take one. He got stuck with the task of pouring pints and glasses of wine. Anyone wanting one of Jonathon’s cocktails would have to lump it.
Jonathon approached the bar. “Can you do two coffees for Teresa and Professor Harcourt? One black, one with cream.” He grinned. “When you have a minute, that is.”
Mike rolled his eyes. “Oh, I think I can manage that.” He set about his task, filling the receptacle with ground coffee. Then he was back to the bar to pour more pints. He could just about glimpse Teresa, obscured by a crowd that had gathered around her table. He recognized some of the people from the meal.
“Hey, do you want to know what’s weird?” Jonathon was at the bar again, this time collecting orders to deliver to tables. “Take a good look at the people around Teresa.”
Mike peered at the throng. “What about them?”
“There isn’t one villager among them.” Jonathon pointed to the other end of the pub. “Most of the villagers are sitting over there. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them and her.”
Mike shrugged. “Or maybe they can’t get near her for all her adoring fans.” He snickered. “And there are certainly a lot of them.”
“Haven’t you done those coffees yet?” Jonathon’s eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Watch it or you’ll find yourself walking back to the hall tonight.”
With a last laugh, Jonathon picked up a tray of pints. “Where are these going?”
“Seth’s table.”
“Got it.” Jonathon headed in that direction, and Mike poured the coffees. Before he could deliver them, more people surged toward the bar, and he knew Abi’s break was over.
“Is it always this busy?” Phil McCallister appeared at the bar, holding a ten-pound note in his hand. Melody Richards was with him.
From his stool at the bar, Paul Drake chuckled. “I’ve not seen Mike this flustered since he got here.” He gazed around him. “Course, I’ve never seen the pub this busy either.”
“I call this the Teresa Malvain Effect,” Mike said with a grin. “Can’t complain, even if I do need another pair of hands.”
“I don’t come in here often.” Fiona joined Phil and Melody, staring at the crowded pub. “Now I know why.”
“This is not usual.” At that moment, Abi reappeared, and Mike kissed her on the cheek. “Excellent timing.”
She laughed. “Yeah, I had a feeling I’d be wanted. I’ll deal with that end of the bar—you deal with this one.”
“Perfect.” Mike poured a pint for Phil and a white wine for Melody just as a fresh wave of drinkers hit. For the next five or ten minutes, he didn’t have time to think as he poured drink after drink. It wasn’t until Professor Harcourt appeared that he remembered the coffees. “My apologies,” he said as he pointed to where the two cups sat on the bar. “I should have brought those over. They’ll be cold by now. Let me make some fresh coffee.”
He turned to set up the machine, but Professor Harcourt stopped him with a hand to his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. “They’ll be fine. And if Teresa should complain—although I’m sure that’s not in her nature—I’ll buy her another one.” His blue eyes twinkled with good humor.
Mike had to work really hard not to snort. “Is she coping with the onslaught?”
Professor Harcourt bit his lip. “She’s being polite. I think that’s a bonus at this stage.” He picked up the cups. “I’ll be right back if she has a problem with the coffee.” He walked slowly back to their table, carrying the two cups with great care.