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‘I gathered something was wrong.’
‘Another suspicious text on his phone. I picked it up while he was driving. He’s explained it away, but I don’t know if I believe him this time.’
I wonder how bad it would have to be for Nina to believe it. Is this the point where I tell her that her darling husband has even made a pass at me, her best mate? She should know exactly what he’s like by now.
Taking a deep breath, I start, ‘Nina . . .’ But she cuts me off.
‘Despite everything, I still love him,’ she says, sounding as if it’s the worst thing in the world. My friend looks at me, eyes bleak. ‘How can that be?’
I keep quiet. Sometimes things are better left unsaid.
Chapter Seventy
All the way home, I wonder whether Dominic and I should risk the snowboarding outing. I’m sure that Dominic would be amazed to see the Sno!Zone and I shouldn’t let one bad experience put me off taking him out ever again. Dominic needs to integrate into life here and to form friendships if he’s not going to feel like an outsider.
As I pull up outside my cottage, I get a rush of love for Dominic. The lights are on and my home is giving out an inviting glow. It’s a heartwarming feeling to know that there’s someone waiting there for you.
Once inside, I shout out a ‘hello!’ to Dominic. There’s an incredible smell coming from the kitchen and I wander through to find out what it is. I lean on the door and laugh out loud.
In the kitchen Dominic is wearing my apron over his red shuka. He’s just lifted a golden roasted chicken out of the oven supervised, to my surprise, by Mrs Duston.
‘My secret weapon,’ Dominic says with a grin.
‘Hello, dear,’ Mrs Duston says. ‘Dominic asked me to give him a hand and everything’s just about ready.’ She flutters around him. ‘He’s a very good cook.’
Another item to add to his list of charms. I smile to myself. I’m sure if Nina came home and found another woman in her kitchen, it wouldn’t be the likes of Mrs Duston.
‘You can take it from here, Dominic,’ Nashley’s answer to Delia says. ‘I’ll be off then.’
‘Stay,’ I offer. ‘Looks like there’s plenty there.’ I don’t want her going home to an empty house.
She holds up a hand. ‘I have flower committee,’ she says. ‘Important decisions about the Easter display to be discussed.’
‘Oh. Right.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Dominic?’
‘Most certainly, Mrs Duston. Asante.’
‘Karibu,’ she says proudly as she flutters her eyelashes girlishly.
I follow her to the door. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Thank you for helping Dominic.’
‘Oh, the pleasure’s all mine,’ she insists. ‘He’s a darling.’
Promoted from a poppet to a darling, I think. Dominic certainly does have these ladies eating out of his hand.
Back in the kitchen, I throw my bag down on a chair, then go and wind my arms around Dominic’s waist. He’s tasting his gravy.
‘Where did this lot come from?’
‘Mr and Mrs Codling-Bentham,’ he supplies. ‘I worked all day in their garden. They gave me a chicken and vegetables. The apple pie is from Mrs Duston.’
‘I’m going to get as fat as a house.’ The trouble with all these culinary delights that Dominic seems to attract is that he doesn’t eat any of them. So it’s left to me to do the polite thing and wolf them down. ‘I think I’ll put the pie in the freezer for another time.’ Though I’m sure Mike might like a slice of it later.
‘I did not know what to do with the chicken or the vegetables and Mike was at work, so I asked Mrs Duston what to do. She insisted that she come to help.’
‘I bet she did.’
Dominic laughs at that.
‘You’ll have the entire female population of Buckingham at your feet soon.’
‘Not all of them,’ he says. ‘Your friend, Nina, she still does not like me.’
‘She’ll come round,’ I say confidently. ‘We’ve been asked to go snowboarding with everyone from the salon on Friday night. Do you fancy that?’
‘I do not know what snowboarding is,’ he says, perplexed.
‘It would be fun. Something different for you.’
‘If you think it is a good thing, then I would like to try it,’ he shrugs.
‘Hey. We’d better not let this dinner burn. Mrs Duston would have your guts for garters.’
‘My what?’
‘Figure of speech. Let me just go and change while you dish up.’
I race upstairs and fling on my tracksuit, promising that I’ll hang up my work clothes after I’ve eaten dinner.
