‘And you were that expert?’
‘No,’ Beatrice shifted on the sofa, getting agitated. ‘I found all that advice online from real relationship gurus. I’m just a matchmaker.’
‘Right, well, let’s hope they’re busy ticking items off your list and not heading home to Yorkshire in a huff because the inn manager’s a busybody meddler.’ Kitty was smiling.
‘Have you been talking to Atholl?’
Kitty threw her a wink and told her to get some rest before closing the door, leaving Beatrice to surreptitiously pull her laptop out from under the sofa and set to work again.
‘Right, where was I? Oh yes, bouncy castles.’
The creak of floorboards woke Beatrice, and her eyes sprung open catching Ruth Firth tiptoeing out the sun room door.
‘Don’t go,’ she said, finding her voice was croaky.
‘I don’t want to disturb you,’ Ruth whispered. ‘Kitty told me what happened yesterday at the hospital. Go back to sleep.’
‘My laptop! Where is it?’ Beatrice sat up straight. She’d only nodded off for a second surely? Where could it have gone? She still had the Punch and Judy arrangements to firm up.
Ruth tipped her head sagely. ‘I took it off you, you were fast asleep.’ She pointed to the shelf behind her where she’d safely stowed it.
‘Oh.’ Beatrice felt stiff from lying down all morning. ‘Ruth? Will you report me to the elders if I sit up and have a decaff with you?’
Ruth laughed and nodded. ‘Right you are, stay there.’ She made for the door.
‘Ruth? Can you get some of Gene’s shortbread too?’
She replied with a thumbs-up as she left.
‘So?’ Beatrice was wide-eyed over the rim of her coffee cup.
‘So?’ Ruth echoed mischievously.
‘You had a nice time last night? At the Burns Night Ball, I mean?’
‘You’re asking if we ticked anything off your list, aren’t you, you little weirdo?’
Beatrice grinned. ‘Oh my God, you definitely did! Look at your face!’
‘We only kissed, like the experts said. I was very firm about that.’
Beatrice bit her shortbread contentedly and shook her head thinking how easy this matchmaking was.
‘You needn’t look so pleased,’ Ruth said.
‘What do you mean? It’s working, isn’t it?’
‘Mark was gone this morning when I woke up. Off to do some more work, I imagine. Slipped out at seven. God knows who he needed to talk to that early.’
‘Maybe he felt like walking?’ Beatrice said, a little desperately.
Surely that didn’t mean anything. There’s no way Atholl’s hunch could be right, not with Ruth and him getting on a little better. If Mark Firthreally washaving a sneaky affair there was no way this was salvageable with a simple list that basically boiled down to the advice be courteous and appreciate each other.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Ruth said grimly. ‘I don’t even want to consider it… but it would make sense.’
‘Would it?’ Beatrice gulped her coffee, feeling very guilty indeed for getting Ruth’s hopes up for a cosy, intimate future with her husband when he couldn’t give up his habit of skulking off with a phone to his ear.
‘Well… this is our first trip away together in forever. If he has been, you know, cheating back home he’d have had plenty of opportunities to get away to see her or to phone her any old time, only now we’re stuck together on holiday maybe it’s more obvious when he can’t keep away from her.’
