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‘Oh God, what a nightmare,’ I whispered. ‘What a complete and utter nightmare.’

22

Happily Ted was too busy leaning out of the window calling his own goodbyes to catch my heartfelt aside.

‘Good.’ He smiled, facing front and shifting in his seat, a regrouping gesture. He pulled his seat belt across his ample stomach and snapped it in with a decisive click. ‘That went well. She'll be pleased, our Bella. She's been that nervous.’

‘I bet.’

‘And as I say, it's all down to you. You made it work.’ He reached across and squeezed my hand, giving it a little shake.

‘Nonsense,’ I murmured absently as we drove on up the lane, following its snaking course to the top of the hill. I felt quite weak with relief. Felt I'd sneaked into this wooden horse of Ted's, this chariot, at the very last minute and escaped. My head lolled sideways on the rest and blinked out of the window. It was a heavenly morning, touched with frost, gilded with sun, and now that we were out of the shelter of the valley, the landscape spread about us frigid and ghostly white, the sky above as blue as the Costa Brava's.

‘She's a lovely girl, your Bella,’ I said at length as I dimly admired the dull sheen on a glistening pond.

‘Aye, she is that.’

‘Gorgeous-looking, too.’

He swallowed. Reached for his hanky. ‘Aye.’

O Lord, here we go.

‘I'll bet she has masses of men chasing after her, doesn't she?’

He smiled. Tucked his hanky back in his pocket. ‘She's not like that, luv.’

‘No, no, I'm not suggesting she is. But surely, well, a lovely girl like that, all on her own, would attract men even if she's not interested!’

‘Oh, aye, she's had her fair share of admirers, if that's what you mean.’ It was very much what I meant.

‘And any,’ I persisted nosily, ‘that she's tempted by? You know, gone out with?’

‘Aye, she's had a boyfriend these last three years. Mike Hathaway, a local solicitor.’

‘Oh.’ I perked up no end. ‘A solicitor. That's good, isn't it?’

‘Aye, he's done well, Mike. Pulled himself up the greasy pole. Didn't come from much, neither – his dad was a butcher. Hathaway's, in Alshot.’

‘Gracious, good for him.’ I liked the sound of Mike. ‘Good-looking?’

‘The girls like him.’

‘So why wasn't he…? I mean, we could have met him, surely?’

‘They split up six months back. He buggered off.’

‘Oh. Shame. Did you like him?’

He shrugged. ‘I did, but I don't now. Like to punch his lights out.’

Right. Things were obviously done slightly differently in Yorkshire.

‘Yes, of course you would. But maybe he'll be back? Maybe it's just a blip? I mean, three years is a long time – you don't just walk away from that sort of investment.’

He turned to me. ‘He ran, luv. And no, he won't be coming back.’

‘Would she have him back?’ I went on doggedly. ‘I mean, hypothetically speaking?’

‘Not now she wouldn't.’ He glanced in his mirror as he indicated off onto the spur of a dual carriageway, turning the radio on, and perhaps indicating too that this little interview was at a close. We drove for a bit in silence, Classic FM gently easing our path.

‘He's a grand chap, your Ant,’ Ted remarked as Clair de lune tinkled up to its closing chord.

‘Yes, he is.’ I licked my lips, dug deep for courage, or neck, even. ‘Although I don't suppose you thought that seventeen years ago.’

He shrugged. ‘He was young. He made a mistake. We've all done that, haven't we? And he's more than made up for it now. He could have run too, couldn't he? But he didn't.’

‘No, you're right.’

‘And don't forget, he didn't know back then, did he? Didn't know about Stacey. Who knows what might have been?’

My throat constricted. What Totally Truthful but verging on the Tactless Ted was indirectly saying here, whether he realized it or not, was that Ant might have stood by Bella and Stacey. Might? Would, I thought with a jolt of horror. Honourable Ant? Yes, like a shot. So where would that have left me? High up on the stale bun shelf, that's where.

We drove on in silence, both lost in thought. When we'd left the bypass and negotiated a sprawling, but strangely captivating city