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Maureen had decided to cook some sea-bass fillets which she had stuffed with some olives and sun dried tomatoes. She would put them in the oven when Ron arrived and they would require little attention. To accompany them she had made couscous with roasted vegetables and a salad with a vinaigrette dressing. Dessert would be strawberries and raspberries and she had a nice mid-priced bottle of Pinot Grigio in the fridge.
She was on edge and jumped every time a text or an email arrived on her mobile. Ron had messaged her a couple of times to say he was looking forward to dinner and that it had been too long since they had seen each other. She replied automatically rather than with feeling. At 6 p.m. she went upstairs to take a relaxing bath and she was setting the table in the dining room when Ron arrived. He offered her a small bouquet of roses, nothing ostentatious and she went to find a vase.
Ron wandered into the kitchen and looked out into the garden. ‘It’s all looking lovely out there,’ he said. ‘I like the new design.’
‘Thank you,’ said Maureen, snipping the ends off the roses before putting them in the vase.
‘Something smells good,’ he said.
‘Nothing fancy but I hope you like it.’
‘I like anything you make for me,’ said Ron. He put his arms around her and kissed her neck. He immediately felt her flinch slightly and she carried on arranging the roses without turning around. It was going to be a tense evening.
‘Right, the fish is in the oven. Twenty minutes then we can eat. Would you like wine or a gin and tonic?’
‘Wine, please,’ said Ron.
Maureen poured two glasses and they sat in the lounge.
‘So how’s the summerhouse getting along then?’
‘Slowly. God, they are a bunch of idiots,’ said Ron, shaking his head. ‘They brought the wrong windows, then they broke part of the balustrade lengths. I’m amazed the roof is on the right way up!’
‘Oh, dear. Perhaps they are new to the job.’
‘They’d be looking for another job if they worked for me,’ said Ron. ‘This wine’s very nice, where did you get it?’
‘Oh, Waitrose. Along with the rest of the things. I usually shop there.’
‘Shirley liked Waitrose as well,’ said Ron. ‘I’m feeling hungry.’
‘I’ll just go and check. It won’t be long.’
Ron felt in his pocket just to check that he’d not lost his present. It was still safely there. The wine was helping the atmosphere slightly but there was a distinct chill in the air. He knew what it concerned and he just hoped that by the end of the evening it could all be forgotten.
**
Polly had managed to eat the macaroni cheese which she had abandoned the previous evening. She still had several hours to wait before Nick returned to her. She had checked the flight tracker at work and had seen that his plane had left more or less on time. That was one less thing to worry about. She now had to pass the evening waiting for his return. It was like a tick list of things to work through. The departure from India, landing at Heathrow, Brett collecting him and then the best part of all, opening the door to him and welcoming him home.
Her phone rang. ‘Hi, Brett.’
‘Oh, hi, Polly. I’ll be leaving soon to go and collect Nick. I just wondered how you are feeling?’
‘Oh, I’m OK. Obviously, a bit drained but I’ll be OK as soon as I see Nick.’
‘Annabelle wondered whether she could pop around to see you. Keep you company for a while?’
‘Oh, well, that would be great. If she doesn’t mind. It will help to pass the time.’
‘Great, I’ll tell her. I think she would like your advice on some colour schemes for our house. We’re getting the decorators in.’
‘Yes, of course. Tell her she can come around anytime.’
‘Will do. Probably in about half an hour I think she said.’
‘OK, bye.’
‘Bye, Polly, see you soon.’
Polly felt a bit tearful once again. She knew it was her hormones. It was so nice how Matt and Brett had been so considerate when the crisis unfolded only twenty-four hours ago. Was it really only that length of time, it seemed much longer? They were really lucky to have such supportive colleagues and friends. She went to get changed into something a bit smarter and put on a bit of makeup. Annabelle always looked immaculate and although she couldn’t compete in appearance she didn’t want to feel dishevelled.
**
Warrior: All OK for a meetup tonight?
Nimrod: Sure. Where?
Warrior: Meet me for a drink. Bradfield Arms?
Nimrod: What time?
Warrior: About 8 ish?
Nimrod: I’ll be there. Got the details?
Warrior: Sure have. Will explain all.
Nimrod. OK. Later.
