“Indeed.” With a pat of his hand, Betty pointed to the kitchen. “How about a cup of tea? I need one after that.” Not waiting for his reply, she started walking, muttering under her breath, “Or maybe a brandy.”
Ed followed. When they passed the other two bedrooms, he noticed both doors were open. “Where’s Monty?”
“Oh.” Betty stopped, eyeing the room Monty had stayed in with a fond look. “He got picked up at the start of the week. Lovely lady, shame she’s not his forever home, but hopefully he’ll find it soon.”
“Fingers crossed.” Ed ushered her to a seat at the table when they entered the kitchen, despite her protests. “You sit down, let me make you a drink.” He gestured to the ginger cat waiting patiently at her feet. “I think someone wants on your lap.”
“That’s Arthur.” Betty laughed as the cat jumped onto her knee as soon as she sat down. “He’s such a fussy thing.” She grinned down as Arthur settled into a tight ball, loud purrs filling the kitchen. “He was a rescue, like Monty.”
“Arthur?”
Betty rolled her eyes. “I know. But the people at the shelter named him, and I think it kind of suits him.”
Ed set her tea on the table, along with the tin of biscuits when she asked for them. “You know,” he said, tapping the edge of the work surface as an idea began to form. “I have something that might help you remember things or remind you of them at least.”
“Oh?”
Ed put everything in his phone calendar, but if Betty was as bad with technology as Elise had been, then that was a disaster waiting to happen. “I just need to nip next door and get it. Back in a sec.”
He returned ten minutes later, carrying a small whiteboard and one of his markers. “I bought a pack of two by mistake, and I don’t need both of them,” he explained at Betty’s curious stare. Propping it up against the breadbin, he grabbed the marker and wrote at the top of the board.Laptop with Ed for repairs.Then turned to Betty. “If you get Oliver to write the important things on here, then you can check it if you’re worried about anything, see if it’s on there or not.”
“As long as I remember it’s there,” Betty said, rolling her eyes. “It’s not a guarantee these days.”
Ed smiled. She reminded him a lot of Elise sometimes, and it was both sad and heart-warming. No wonder they’d been such good friends. “If you get Oliver to put it somewhere prominent, somewhere you can’t help but see it, then I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea.” She hummed and looked around the kitchen. “Oh, I think next to the calendar would be perfect. I check that every morning.”
“Perfect.”
With that sorted, Ed took his tea and joined her at the table, much to her delight.
AND THAT was where Oliver found them about an hour later, halfway through her family history and two photo albums in.
“Oh God, Betty.” Oliver stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, shaking his head but smiling. “Not the family album.” He’d taken his coat and shoes off, and Ed found himself admiring the way his dark jeans—with no rips in them this time—gently hugged his thighs. He wore a dark-grey, long-sleeved T-shirt, and Ed’s gaze wandered lazily up it, wondering what lay beneath until he met Oliver’s curious gaze.
Busted.
Before either of them could speak, Betty turned the page in the photo album, beaming with pride as she tapped on the top picture of two women in maybe their late thirties, arms around each other smiling at the camera. “That’s my daughter, Claire, and her best friend, Sam, Oliver and Rob’s mum.” She stroked a finger carefully over the photo. “Taken the day before Claire left for New Zealand.” Her voice held a hint of sadness but also pride and excitement, and he started to get a better idea of Oliver’s relationship to her. “Thick as thieves ever since school. Still are, despite the distance.” She sighed and looked up. “They’re coming back just before Christmas. I’ll introduce you if you’re still here.”
Ed smiled. “I’d like that.” Before Betty could get started on another story, Ed stood. “As much as I’d love to stay and chat more, Betty, I need to get back and finish off a few bits.”
“Oh, you should’ve said!” She looked a little guilty. “I have a tendency to lose track of time once I get chatting.”
“I enjoyed it,” Ed reassured her. And he had. Family histories were something he always found interesting. And he also hadn’t wanted to leave her alone, even though she seemed fine now. He squeezed her hand. “It’s been lovely chatting with you. I’ll make sure to pop back soon to see the rest of those.” He pointed to the pile of albums he’d yet to look through.
Betty’s smile lit up the room. “That would be wonderful.”
Oliver stood, leant against the worktop, watching them. He’d no doubt seen the new addition to their kitchen because he offered to walk Ed out. Once outside, Oliver stopped on the path, shoving his hands in his pockets. Ed did the same. “Did something happen today?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I saw the whiteboard...”
“Yeah, I was going to text you but didn’t want it to seem worse than it was.” He ran a hand through his hair, an uncomfortable feeling seeping into his chest like he was betraying Betty’s trust by telling Oliver what had happened.
But he needed to know, right?
“She... um.” He winced. “Christ, I feel as though I’m telling tales.”
Oliver’s smile was understanding, like he knew exactly what he meant. “I know. I feel like that sometimes when I’m talking to Rob about it. But if I know what happened, then I can prepare for if it happens again. She’ll understand and will no doubt tell me herself as soon as I go back in there, but I’d like to hear the unedited version.”
Ed sighed. He had a point. “She forgot you’d given me your laptop to repair.” He filled Oliver in on the rest of it, including the whiteboard and his suggestion of how they use it and the fact he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. That’s why he was still there when Oliver got home.
