‘I thought that too but now I’m not so sure. I’ve looked it up on the internet and his reaction is quite common in older people.’
‘You know, investigating things on the internet is often asking for trouble. I made that mistake when Giles wasn’t well last winter. I was horrified by all the things that he could have when it was a bad case of the flu combined with the worst cough I’ve ever known.’
‘Are you sure it wasn’t man flu?’
‘No, he really was sick. And I honestly thought the worst after looking it up online.’
‘But you agree, this isn’t like Barney at all, right?’
‘Of course I agree, and for selfish reasons I want that ball to go ahead. This year I’ve dieted enough that I’ll easily get into my wedding dress – might need a bit of padding around the boob area – and Giles has taken up running so is already looking forward to pulling on his tux.’
‘You won’t be the only ones disappointed. I think if this event doesn’t go ahead, it’ll have a worse effect on him than he realises. I did mention to Harvey about taking over the organising, but already Barney has said he doesn’t want it in the barn.’
‘At least you’re here with him now – that’s got to help, surely. Perhaps he’ll come round about running the ball.’
Melissa smiled, until it dawned on her. ‘Unless…’
‘Unless what?’
‘Unless it’s like they say, you know, when someone is dying they hang on to see those they love before they let go.’
‘Enough of that talk. And you know what? If you’re extending your stay it means you can come to the ball.’
‘If it happens.’
‘I’m sure Barney can’t be serious about not having it this year.’
‘I’m afraid he is. He’s already on about cancelling things.’
‘Then you’ll have to step up, you owe it to him. And yes, I am trying to guilt you into it.’
‘It’s working.’
Tracy stood and picked up her pint. ‘Come on, let’s get some crisps, I’m starving. And it’s getting chilly out here. We’ll go inside and you can tell me what you’re planning to wear to the ball this year, because mark my words, this event will go ahead.’
She was right. This ball had to run or Barney would regret it, and perhaps stepping in to ensure it did would go some way to making up for the hurt she’d caused.
Chapter Six
This morning the heavens had opened and shrouded the village in a damp cloud that didn’t appear to want to shift. Not that you’d know it now, as Harvey returned to Tumbleweed House after his early-morning start on a loft-conversion project. He unloaded his tools from the back of his pickup beneath a bright sky now that the sun had emerged from whichever cloud it had been hiding behind. The only sign of the questionable weather was the waxy leaves on the bushes that still held drops of rain in their palms.
As Harvey walked up to the front door he could hear Winnie’s tail thwacking against the other side of the wood. Winnie, predictably, launched herself at Harvey the moment he opened up and he crouched down in the doorway, his face in the dog’s fur, his hands ruffling Winnie’s coat the way she liked. Local girl Gracie, who lived at Hollyhock Cottage, was on hand to come in and walk Winnie on days when Harvey had to work longer hours than expected, and at least it gave the dog a change of scene.
‘You missed me, I know you did,’ he laughed, still fussing over Winnie. He’d be back out soon, to go and check on Barney, see if he could coax him into at least trying to follow the rehabilitation program. Talking with his mum yesterday as they sat in her gloriously sunny courtyard behind the tiny cottage she now lived in, he’d listened to Carol Luddington’s opinion that Barney just needed time. She’d always approved of her son’s bond with Barney, the man who’d been a father to him when he’d needed a positive male influence in his life. He certainly hadn’t had that from his own dad or his brother.
Filling a glass of water at the tap in the kitchen, he told Winnie, ‘You can come with me to Barney’s, if you behave and don’t get in the way.’ Winnie had already been out today, he knew because Gracie had texted, but she loved company. She’d been a rescue dog and he figured she’d had enough rough days along the way, so now he wanted to spoil her. But the last thing he wanted was for her to trip Barney up if she got excited and playful. He’d never forgive himself if Barney landed up in hospital all over again.
A gentle tap on the front door announced a visitor but Winnie was already on it and Melissa didn’t flinch when the dog ran straight at her.
‘Not interrupting, am I?’ She’d crouched down to fuss Winnie, who now had a fresh, captive audience. Melissa had always loved dogs, Harvey remembered. She’d once taken in a stray, convinced she would need to give it a home, only to find it belonged to someone who’d come into the village earlier that day and the dog had wandered off. There had been tears when she’d had to return the canine to its rightful owner. She got attached quickly. Shame she was also capable of detaching at the same speed.
‘Not at all. What brings you here?’ He pushed the toolbox he’d brought inside further under the wooden bench in the porch, out of the way.
‘I need to talk to you and thought a house call was better than over the phone.’ Her voice followed him as he walked back through to the kitchen.
‘Fair enough. Come on in.’ Having her in his space felt odd but he distracted himself by freshening up Winnie’s bowl of water. From the corner of his eye he saw Melissa sit down at the battered oak table running parallel to the bench that looked out onto the gravel courtyard and the fields beyond Tumbleweed House. On the same bench was the butler’s sink that added character to the property, and above the island that separated him from the table and Melissa hung the same period wrought-iron saucepan rack that had been here since the day he first invited Melissa over and his mum made them elderberry milkshakes as their short legs dangled from the now-tatty chairs with the same patina as the table. Melissa had thought it was fancy having all your pots and pans hanging up – he’d thought it was an odd thing to notice, but he hadn’t cared, he was just happy he had a friend over and his father wasn’t around.
‘What’s her name?’ Melissa still only had eyes for the dog. Perhaps it was her way of dealing with the awkwardness of coming to the place where he lived after all this time.
