Hector, who was playing a lot of rugby back then, had a wide circle of friends, was doing quite well at school and bar the odd strop, was good company and loving at home most of the time. There was no indication of the angry, troubled young man he’d become. And Lily was just, well, Lily: sweet, a bit silly, boisterous, thoughtful and keen to please.
The two couples arrived at the hotel at lunchtime and immediately ordered food, wine and beer in the cosy main bar, which had comfy leather sofas, exposed beams and a roaring open fire.
Some other guests sitting nearby, a chatty, sixty-something couple, had an elderly Border terrier called Bobby, which had lost its back legs in a car accident but still managed to whiz round on a special sort of trolley-cum-wheelchair.
It scooted off to the reception area a few times, where staff kept a big jar of posh doggy treats on the counter. Harriet got into hysterics when Bobby’s doting owners, Dave and Pat, confessed their pet was very fussy and would only eat organic treats and drink filtered water.
Tears started to roll down her cheeks when Pat also revealed the dog had a girlfriend, a cocker spaniel aged thirteen, named Mavis. She even produced a photo of her with Bobby to prove it.
Bobby, with a neatly trimmed grey muzzle, puffing out his chest, and with his gleaming back wheels proudly on display, appeared to be grinning like a Cheshire cat at the camera. He was fit, trim, and looked very pleased with himself. All he needed was a bow tie to complete his dapper look.
Poor Mavis, on the other hand, resting on her haunches, with her head lowered and a soulful look in her eyes, was showing her age.
‘She’s got next to no teeth, bless her, but Bobby doesn’t mind. We often meet her in the park near our house. She and Bobby rush round and play together like pups. I think he wears her out, actually. You should see them!’
Stella, who was beside Harriet on the sofa, nudged her in the ribs to try to calm her down, but it only seemed to make matters worse. The hysteria was infectious and soon, Al was shaking with laughter, too. Pat and Dave didn’t seem bothered. Perhaps they were used to such daft reactions.
‘Bobby used to love the sea,’ Dave went on seriously. ‘We bought him a wetsuit, so his fur stayed dry. The poor chap can’t go in the water now, though. His wheels might rust.’
Fuelled with food and booze, Stella, Al, Harriet and Jon had left the hotel, still giggling, and gone for a walk round the town and across the fields, where they’d seen Muntjac deer and flocks of wild geese feasting on beet tops left on the soil after harvest.
Stella bought an overpriced sweater in a boutique shop, before they’d all rolled home to wash and change for dinner. Stella and Al had a luxurious walk-in two-person shower. Of course, one thing led to another and they were soon having noisy, enthusiastic sex. You’d think they’d been stranded on separate desert islands for weeks on end.
They were late down for supper and it was obvious what they’d been up to from their flushed cheeks and secret little smiles. Jon, meanwhile, looked like a cat who’d got the cream, while Harriet, acting prim in a vintage white lace shirt, her hair in an elegant up-do, fooled absolutely no one.
‘Go on, admit it, you’ve been at it like rabbits,’ Stella whispered teasingly in Harriet’s ear.
Harriet patted her hair and pretended to be shocked.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
She picked up the drinks menu before clearing her throat and declaring in a rather loud voice, which made Jon wince: ‘I need a HUGE cocktail. What about the rest of you? A Harvey Wallbanger, Stella? Or have you already had one?’
She loved being outrageous, especially after a few drinks.
In fairness, it was Harriet and Stella who got on best. Jon and Al had to work a bit harder in each other’s company, being very different characters. Al loved a good laugh, and people generally warmed to his easy-going manner and engaging stories, peppered with the occasional risqué joke. Jon, by contrast, tended to be quiet, serious and analytical.
Al called him a ‘nitpicker’, but never to his face. He knew how important the friendship was to Stella, and fortunately the two men found just enough common ground to keep them engaged.
Harriet always said Al brought out Jon’s lighter side and it was true, he certainly laughed a lot more after a few hours in Al’s company. They all did.
‘I still don’t really understand why Harriet’s with him,’ Al had commented when he and Stella had finally got to bed that night. ‘He’s definitely punching above his weight. She’s so lively and interesting, but he really is a bit of a bore.’
‘He’s very knowledgeable,’ Stella replied, carefully taking out the silver earrings which Al had bought her for her birthday and putting them on the bedside table.
‘Yes, and he loves to show it. He completely lost me when he started talking about biofuel technologies and kilowatts per tonne of corn. Honestly, I nearly nodded off.’
‘You’d want him on your team in a quiz, though. And he’s a good father. I reckon he keeps Harriet steady. She could be a bit flighty and impulsive before she met him. She got herself into quite a few scrapes, especially with men. He makes sure her feet stay firmly on the ground.’
Al looked doubtful. ‘He ticks her off like one of his pupils. Did you notice his reaction when she was talking about Harvey Wallbangers? I’m sure he’d have said something if we hadn’t been there. I don’t know how she can stand it.’
‘P’raps she likes it,’ Stella replied mischievously.
‘What? You mean it’s part of their bedroom repertoire? Jon smacking her with a ruler and making her write lines in the nude? I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have the imagination.’
Stella snorted with amusement, before cocking her head on one side and giving her husband a playful grin. ‘Ooh, I’m not convinced. Maybe he’s a dark horse. You never know what might go on behind that stern headmaster’s exterior. Still waters can run deep.’
