Page 74 of The Mad Marchams

“Sounds about right. What time do things kick off?”

Mabel consulted her phone for the schedule Mrs. Reynolds had sent her. “Three o’clock for the ceremonial lighting of the birthday cake candles, followed by a traditional high tea—whatever that means.”

“It means we have to stand up.” Colin fixed the last of the bunting onto a tree. “The entire time.”

“Yeah, right. Why did we have to borrow all these chairs from everyone, then?”

“Just to annoy them?”

“Your family are annoyed by everything.” Mabel put her phone away. “But I bet they’ll all be here to eat the cake.”

“I’m sure they will. Freddy’s invited half the village, plus the rugby team, the fire brigade, and the pony club, so I hope we’ve got enough food.”

Mabel thought about the current state of the kitchen. “I’m fairly sure we do. Mrs. Reynolds is very fond of Freddy.”

“He’s always been her favorite.” Colin gave her a hug. “I’d best be off. I promised I’d make sure Ted’s excavations are fully covered over and protected by a mile of fluorescent tape.”

“We certainly don’t want anyone falling in,” Mabel agreed. “Dale texted to say she’s arrived at the B&B and will head this way for the party.”

“Good. It will be nice for you to have your own friend here.” He paused. “You must be getting homesick after all this time away.”

“Is that a hint that you’d like me to leave?” Mabel asked.

“God, no.” His appalled expression almost made her smile. “On the contrary.” He kissed her fingers. “Once we’ve got this birthday nonsense out of the way I want to sit down with you and have a proper chat about our future together.”

“Together?”

His smile was full of tenderness. “Yes, if that’s what we both want.” He kissed her forehead. “Cheerio for now, then. Don’t work too hard.”

“I won’t.”

She was still walking around with a besotted smile on her face when Bartle came out of the kitchen and beckoned to her.

“Miss Mabel? Might I have a word?”

“Sure! What can I do for you?”

“His lordship is desirous of attending the celebrations.”

“How lovely!” Mabel said. “I’ll finally get to meet him.”

“He will require assistance to descend the stairs.”

“Then I’ll send some of those firefighters Freddy invited to help with that.”

“Thank you, miss.” Bartle bowed. “And I’ll make sure his lordship is looking his best.”

Half an hour later, Dale arrived, and Mabel was so thrilled to talk to an American again that she almost squealed with delight. She loved the Brits, but sometimes trying to understand all their subtleties and passive-aggressive shit gave her a terrible headache. Dale had been her friend since high school, and she’d never asked Mabel for money or a job, so Mabel had always felt comfortable with her.

“The village is a perfect place to film,” Dale said as Mabel handed her a beer. “I’ve already taken a thousand pictures and sent them to my boss. And just walking along the drive through this estate gave me at least another dozen possible sites.”

“To be honest, Dale, the Marchams need all the financial help they can get,” Mabel confessed. “So, any opportunities would be very welcome for them.”

“I’ll do my best.” Dale grinned at her. “Now, who’s this hot dude coming toward us?”

“That’s Colin.” Mabel tried not to blush. “My... friend.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Dale breathed. “And he owns all this?”