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Maureen had enjoyed an amazing meal at the Italian restaurant. The standard of cooking was superb and so authentic, she’d not had food like that since a holiday in Italy over a decade ago. It was a far cry from pizza and pasta restaurants. She’d chosen a starter of pasta Genovese, followed by a roasted sea bass, or branzino as it was listed on the menu. Ron had chosen spaghetti à la vongole to begin with and osso buco with saffron rice for his main.
‘Would you like the dessert menu?’ asked the waiter.
‘Maureen? Room for something else?’
‘Oh, it will have to be something very small.’
‘Yes, please,’ he said to the waiter.
The food and pleasant ambience of the high-quality restaurant was matched by Ron’s charming company. Although she had been nervous to start with, she had soon relaxed in his presence aided by a couple of glasses of red wine. The restaurant had been pleasantly full but they had been given a secluded table towards the rear and Ron seemed to know the staff well, he was clearly a regular customer.
They looked at the menu.
‘What about pannacotta? That’s not too heavy,’ said Ron.
‘OK, why not. I can do some extra swimming this week!’
‘There’s no need. You have a great figure,’ smiled Ron and Maureen felt herself flush slightly. She was pleased that the lighting was low and hoped that her makeup had disguised her heightened colour.
Maureen was amazed to see that when they had finished their coffees it was after 9.30 p.m., the time had simply flown by. Ron was a natural raconteur and had told her about his humble beginnings and his two marriages. He’d had more than his fair share of heartache. Losing two wives in tragic circumstances together with having to witness the death of his only daughter before she became an adult. At one point she had reached across the table and squeezed his hand as he was clearly struggling to recount the last weeks of Natasha’s short life.
‘I’m so sorry Ron, Obviously, I’d read about your recent losses in the local papers but hearing you tonight, well, I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how you’ve managed to carry on, I’m not sure I could have.’
‘I’m a survivor, Maureen. I owe it to Natasha to see what I can do to improve the lives of other sufferers. Perhaps you would come with me next time I go to a glioblastoma support group?’
‘I’d be honoured to, Ron. Thank you.’
‘Well, I just hope that by taking over the running of ClinTry we can enable cancer patients in the area to partake in clinical trials of this new drug being researched at the University.’
‘Let’s hope so. Is it definite then?’
‘Nothing’s definite in business until it’s signed and sealed but they were certainly keen on my offer today. The company has got itself in a bit of a mess. Someone has taken their eye off the ball and it’s not been profitable but I’m sure I can turn it around. They need a cash injection and someone who knows about business.’
‘Well, it would be great if you could keep it operational in Persford. When will you know definitely?’
‘Couple of weeks maybe?’
‘Fingers crossed,’ said Maureen making the usual gesture.
Ron looked at his watch. ‘Look, it’s not that late, do you have to get back straightaway?’
‘No, I’ve nothing much on tomorrow.’
‘It’s such a nice evening. What do you say to a walk along the river, we could have a nightcap at a bar down there, then get a taxi from the town.’
Maureen smiled. ‘Sounds a wonderful idea. Why not?’
Secretly she’d been hoping for such a suggestion. She didn’t want the evening to end just yet.
Ron beckoned to the waiter who brought over the bill and the handheld credit card device. She had no idea how much the meal had cost but it must have been at least two hundred pounds. Ron had ordered an expensive bottle of wine and she had noticed that the small desserts were almost ten pounds. After entering his PIN into the machine he reached into his pocket and took out a couple of twenty-pound notes and slipped them into the waiter’s hand. He discretely pocketed the money and thanked Ron profusely.
Ron allowed Maureen to leave the table first and she put her light jacket loosely around her shoulders as it was still a warm evening. They strolled the quarter of a mile along the river to a bar with a terrace, called Maggini, and headed for a table on the veranda.
‘What would you like?’
‘A small brandy, please,’ said Maureen.
‘Won’t be a minute,’ replied Ron and he went inside.
As Maureen waited she thought back over the evening. It all felt like a chapter from a romantic novel. At times she felt she had dreamt the whole thing and would awake to find she was still waiting for Ron to collect her.
Ron returned with the drinks and they each took a sip. The light was fading now and the riverside looked magical with the lights along the embankments twinkling in the darkness. There were quite a few runners taking advantage of the cooler temperature and a few dog walkers taking their pet out for a walk before bedtime.
Maureen was the first to speak. ‘So it sounds like you will have your work cut out with ClinTry. Do you really think you can improve the profitability?’
‘Well, I need to look at the books but I’m sure there are cost savings to be made. I just hope someone’s not had their fingers in the till. Not that they have a till but you know what I mean. There’s a lot of wastage in businesses. People are quite happy spending other peoples’ money. They wouldn’t do that if it were there own.’
‘No, I guess you are right. It’s the same in the NHS, they don’t seem to use their scale to get the best prices. Paying pounds for paracetamol when they cost a few pence in the supermarket.’
‘You’ve just reminded me of something. Have you spoken to Gerald and Felicity recently?’
‘No, not since their dinner party. Why?’
‘Oh, I was talking to Gerald the other day. It seems one of his shops isn’t as profitable as it was. He thinks he might have a rogue employee, someone who might be helping themselves.’
‘Really? What is he doing about it?’
‘Well, it means he’s checking his books more carefully. He’s also going to start paying them visits more often. He’s annoyed as he’s been able to step back from the business a bit recently.’
Maureen didn’t know what to say. She didn’t really have any experience to offer.
‘Another brandy?’ asked Ron.
‘No thanks, it’s been lovely, I don’t want to get a headache.’
‘Do you want to stay a while or get a taxi?’
‘Let’s go now before they get busy with the pubs closing.’
They walked along to one of the main taxi ranks in the town centre and saw that there were several waiting for business. It didn’t take long for them to reach Maureen’s as the traffic was light at that time of night. The taxi pulled up across the driveway.
‘It’s been a lovely evening, Maureen,’ said Ron. ‘I’ll contact you tomorrow.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it so much,’ she whispered and she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
‘I hope you sleep well,’ said Ron.
‘I don’t feel like sleeping,’ said Maureen. ‘Pay the taxi and come in.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ve never been more certain,’ she said.
Ron paid the cab fare whilst Maureen waited for him on the driveway. As the taxi pulled away Ron went up to Maureen and took her hand. She smiled and they walked up the driveway together.
Down the road, Hubert watched from his car. After he’d called around to Maureen earlier in the evening he’d waited until she had left. He thought he recognised the man in the taxi who had come to collect her but couldn’t recall his name just at that moment. He’d driven away fuming and had spent a tense evening at home, unable to settle to do anything. After a couple of hours and despite several glasses of wine he’d driven back around to his old house and had waited in the darkness for her return. They weren’t even divorced and she was already seeing someone else and sleeping with him. He was furious. He drove away at speed, narrowly missing a car turning the corner at the end of the road. Maureen belonged to him and nobody else. He needed to get home without being stopped by the police and decide his next move.
