Page 107 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

Later, when most of the games were drawing to a close, Razz stood up and tapped his coffee mug with his teaspoon.

He cleared his throat.

‘If I could er… have everyone’s attention please,’ he said. ‘I have an announcement to make.’

Everyone put down their letter tiles and swivelled round in their chairs to face him.

Then Mr B stood up.

‘Yeah, me too,’ he said. ‘But after you, Doc.’

‘No, I insist,’ said Razz. ‘You first, Stan.’

He must be dreading telling them, Jo thought. He was putting it off for as long as he could.

‘As you all know,’ said Mr B, sweeping his eyes across everyone in the room like a practised orator, ‘by some miraculous fluke and several exceedingly fortuitous selections of letters, I managed to find myself the winner of the inaugural Hebbleswick Scrabble Festival tournament…’

Inaugural? thought Jo. Why did people keep assuming there was going to be another one?

‘…and the lucky recipient of a spa weekend at a rather swish establishment in North Yorkshire. A spa weekend for two.’

A collective ‘ooh’ ran round the room and Cosmic Ray shouted, ‘Can I come?’

Stan smiled at him. ‘Much as I would love to avail myself of your offer, Ray, I have my sights – or rather my heart – set upon a different companion for the weekend.’

Jo looked around the room. Linda was running her fingers through her hair, sitting up straight and sticking her chest out even more than usual.

‘Florence,’ Mr B said. ‘Florence, I relish arguing with you over made-up words, proper nouns and whether aperitif is an admissible word in an English game of Scrabble. Florence, you have that certain je ne sais quoi that I adore…’ he said adore with a French accent ‘…and I’d be delighted if you would accompany me to North Yorkshire for a weekend of sparring and spa-ing. I’ll bring the Scrabble.’

Jo half expected him to go down on one knee at Florence’s feet. The room fell silent now, awaiting her answer. Jo wasn’t sure about everyone else, but she for one was holding her breath.

‘As long as it’s separate rooms,’ said Florence.

‘I can arrange that,’ said Mr B.

‘In that case, yes, I’d love to come. Thank you, Stanisław.’

Mr B clearly besotted with Florence – how had she not realised this before? – and far too old for Jo, but she still couldn’t help herself from doing a quick calculation and working out that Stanisław was 12 points. At least it was if you counted the Polish ł as one point like the English letter l.

As Mr B finished his little speech, saying how delighted he was that Florence had accepted, a cheer went round the room. Cosmic Ray, Jo noticed, didn’t join in. It seemed his heart really had been set on that spa weekend in North Yorkshire.

‘Stan, you might want to get insurance for your trip,’ said Malcolm when the room was quiet again.

‘Thanks, Malcolm. I’ll bear that in mind,’ said Mr B.

‘Can’t believe she’s asked for separate rooms,’ whispered Razz to Jo. ‘She’s fancied him for ages.’

‘Playing hard to get,’ Jo said. ‘Kate says it’s the way to a man’s heart.’

‘What utter bollocks! Hope you don’t buy into all that nonsense.’

‘Course not. But Kate does. She’s even got books about it.’

He harrumphed. ‘No wonder dating is so hard, if there’s women out there who actually believe all that stuff.’

Jo wondered if he wanted to add, And women who lie on their profiles.

But the room had fallen silent again and everyone was looking expectantly at Razz.