Ava leaned across to her, pulling on her jacket to get her attention, before whispering, ‘What are you doing?’ Ava agreed they couldn’t trust words, and that they needed to take action to help secure the future of the charity and the village, but with her ankle throbbing, she also knew she needed to take a moment to restock and recover. ‘Why are you talking like a politician?’
Mary leaned down, a glint in her eye. ‘I’m not. I’m talking like an animal welfare officer. You didn’t think I was talking about people, did you? I’m with you. Let’s up our fundraising efforts, prepare ourselves for higher rent. And let’s get the village ordering pints down at The Brown Dog. That’ll put some money in the till, too!’ Mary winked at Gino.
Beaming, Gino pulled Mary towards him and kissed her cheek. ‘You’re a star!’
‘With this lot heading to The Brown Dog, we best get a move on!’ Pauline called to Gino from across the hall.
Before responding, he turned to Ava, asking her if she could manage.
‘Of course. Mary will help me, won’t you?’
‘Yes . . . yes, of course.’ Mary stopped staring at Gino and turned her attention to Ava.
‘Can I help?’ Henry stood before them, his hand outstretched to Ava.
Meeting his gaze, Ava noticed for the first time that he was wearing the same tie she’d pulled loose when he’d visited her cottage . . . She shook her head. ‘No.’ She needed to clear her mind and while they had business to discuss, she knew now was not the time. It had been a day of revelations and she was underthe influence of whisky, albeit for medicinal purposes. ‘No. I’ll be fine, but . . . thank you.’
Mary stood by Ava’s side. ‘You don’t need to thank him. This wouldn’t have happened if it hadn’t have been for his heavies.’ Turning to address Henry directly, Mary continued, ‘I’ve got her. You’ve done enough today, don’t you think?’ Mary pointed at Ava’s bandaged ankle.
‘Ava, I’m sorry . . . I never . . . I’ll sort this out.’ He spoke the words sincerely, before turning to leave. Amidst the commotion of people moving from their seats, Ava saw a glimpse of Mrs Jenkins following, hot on his heels. Henry was reaching for his phone before he got to the door.
Ava looked at Mary. ‘I’m not sure blaming him for my ankle when we need to negotiate rent is a good idea.’
‘He deserved it!’ Mary shrugged.
‘But if I’d just left the lodge via the door, it wouldn’t have happened.’
‘True, but you got in via the door and that’s a huge deal. Leaving by the window — well that’s something to work on.’ Mary smiled.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Even with Mary’s support, hobbling over the cobbled street was proving harder than Ava had imagined. More than once she wondered if she would have been able to convince Henry to carry her, before shaking the image from her mind. She needed to sleep off the effects of the whisky, and she knew resting her ankle would make sense. She had too much to do to be out of action for long. She had to take care of herself. The charity needed her now more than ever. And Myrtle needed her; she could only rely on the kindness of her neighbour to look after Myrtle for so long. And Ava wanted to be with her, especially as her due date drew near.
‘I think I should go home—’
‘Let’s just look in and then I promise to get you home. You did a great job at the meeting. I think if you just take a moment now to rally the troops, we’ll have the village well and truly on side. With everyone facing their own rent increases, we need to keep their sympathy. Charity donations are non-essential when it comes to cutting back. We have to remind them we need them.’
‘I suppose. But I’m sure you’d do a better job than me. I’m not sure I can feel my nose.’
‘What?’
‘My nose. I mean I can see it, I just can’t feel it.’ Ava crossed her eyes. ‘It’s definitely there.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘I think so . . . Wait, can I normally feel my nose?’
‘What? No. Maybe . . . It’s not something anyone ever thinks about.’ Mary paused, looking into Ava’s eyes as they reached the door of The Brown Dog. ‘I had no idea one glass of whisky would affect you so much.’
‘Me either, though maybe it was the second or it could have been the third.’ Ava giggled.
‘What? When—’
‘There was the one I had before I climbed out of the window.’
‘Wh—’
Ava flapped her hand. ‘I knew you’d have some in your drawer. Mum always did for, you know, emergency purposes. Then there’s the one you gave me for my ankle, and the one I swigged when I went to the loo before we left the village hall.’ Ava slipped the half empty bottle of whisky from her bag. ‘I thought it might help with the walk over here.’
