Neil Harrington hadn’t listened to a word the judge and his legal colleague had said during a rambling discourse on court procedures. Distracted, he had to ask a junior for his notes at the lunchtime recess before finding time to meet a client and introduce him to his barrister. He grabbed a sandwich and a coffee, then rushed to another meeting. He went to phone Jean, his secretary, and discovered that his mobile phone was missing. Remembering last night, he grinned for a moment. It had most likely fallen out of his pocket and was in the possession of Ellie Matthews, the woman who had scrambled his thoughts all day and left him a physical and mental wreck. Tonight he had the perfect excuse to call to see her after work and collect it.
He was tired and stiff from the awkward position he’d lain in on her bed, but the thought of her lying in his arms all night was pleasing and something he definitely intended to repeat.
Joining the rush-hour city traffic, he circled the Green and found a parking spot on Dawson Street. He locked his car and crossed the street towards the hat shop, stopping for an instant when he saw her standing in the doorway. She looked tired too, he mused.
He watched her for a few minutes. Saw her face light up as the guy in the black T-shirt approached, the way he handed her a dozen yellow roses, heads close, talking, then kissing. Turning slowly, he got back into his car. He didn’t need to see any more. He started the engine and drove away.
Rosemary Harrington was in the middle of tying up some sweet peas in the garden when the doorbell rang. She hurried up from the kitchen and out through the hall to the front door, where the shaven-headed courier in his red top and leather jacket asked her to sign for a package.
It was for Neil. She signed for the delivery, wondering was it important. The courier companies regularly delivered to the home address rather than the office further up the square. Perhaps it was something urgent and she had better check? She opened the envelope and was surprised to discover a mobile phone inside. Neil’s, by the look of it! There was a simple note attached on pretty yellow business paper. Why would her son be dealing with the hat shop?
Neil
Thank you for rescuing me! This must have fallen down beside the bed last night.
Love, Ellie
Curiouser and curiouser, thought Rosemary. It was from that beautiful young woman who made those gorgeous hats. She slipped the phone and note back inside the packet.
Her son returned home at six thirty and she called out about the package in the hall, reminding him she had a lamb casserole nearly ready for dinner.
‘I’m going out,’ he shouted, grabbing the phone and banging the door, scowling at her just like he’d done when his junior rugby team had lost a very important match.