‘So, how long have you been married?’ asked Will.
‘Fifty-five years.’
‘Wow! That’s some marriage.’
Mrs Henshaw smiled a smile that seemed to be just for her, and it warmed Will’s heart to see how in love she still was with her husband.
A scream ripped through the air, gaining attention.
‘It’s okay,’ shouted Ginny, leaning over the banister. ‘I’m okay.’
Will grinned up at her. ‘Did you meet a chicken by any chance?’
Ginny looked none too pleased as she rolled her oversized sleeves up on her pink robe. She marched down the stairs, looking set to trip over the dressing gown swamping her petite frame. ‘Just for the record, I am not afraid of chickens. I just didn’t expect to see one when I opened my door. It made me jump, that’s all.’
‘Come and sit up at the table, Ginny,’ said Mrs Henshaw. ‘We’re just waiting on the veg to boil. Not long now. I’ll pour you both a drink.’
Will bit his lip as Ginny came to an abrupt halt in the dining room doorway.
She looked back at him while pointing the other way. She whispered, ‘There’s a donkey in here.’
‘Name’s Lily.’ He followed her in and sat in one of the farmhouse chairs.
Ginny shuffled to his side, gathering her robe up to her lap. ‘Why are there animals in here?’
Will raised his palm towards the window. ‘Scared of the snowstorm.’
Ginny’s mouth opened to speak, but then she squealed instead and pulled her feet up. ‘I’ve been pecked.’
‘That’s Hettie. Got a thing for feet, I guess. Where are your slippers?’
‘I didn’t bring any, and I didn’t have any clean socks.’
He watched her scanning the carpet for any approaching beaks. ‘You can’t sit with your feet up through dinner.’
She flashed her toes through a gap in the robe. ‘I can if it saves my feet.’
Will sighed. ‘Here. Put my slippers on.’ He expected a short argument so was surprised when she quickly agreed and swiped them straight off his feet.
Dinner was soon served, and it was funny to see Ginny avoid the cooked chicken on her plate while Hettie was watching her.
‘Tell me how you two met,’ said Mrs Henshaw.
Will figured he’d cut a long story short. ‘Ginny grew up in the house next door to my grandmother’s.’
‘It’s nice to grow up together,’ said Mr Henshaw, cutting into a roast potato.
Will gave Ginny a warm smile, pleased she smiled back. At least she looked more relaxed around him since their argument. He really needed to sort that.
The chatter turned to the weather, the Henshaws wedding day, and how Mr Henshaw had made a lot of the furniture in the room.
Ginny was happily joining in with the conversation, showing off her small-talk skills.
All in all, it turned out to be a nice dinner with a friendly couple, and just for a moment, Will felt he was in a relationship with the woman at his side. It was easy to get carried away, touching her hand on occasion on the table and swapping happy glances.
Oh, if only his life could be that simple. He needed to get his head back in the game, remain focused on his goals, and get stuck in to his plans as soon as they were back in Port Berry.
‘Let’s take our drinks through to the parlour,’ said Mrs Henshaw, helping her husband to a stand.
