We all laughed. The idea of Jeremy old, lonely and in need of a clean shirt was a ludicrous one.
‘Seriously, Sally, you must be going quietly mad, stuck out here in the country with nothing to do,’ Jeremy said.
‘Oh, it hasn’t been so bad . . .’ I didn’t want to hurt Mum and Dad’s feelings by admitting that hadn’t been far from the truth.
‘She’s got herself a new project to keep her busy,’ Mum said, and Dad added:
‘And taken over my computer for all her notes. Nothing changes.’
Jeremy cocked an eyebrow at me. ‘And what project is that?’
I was reluctant to go through it all again, but Mum had other ideas.
‘You remember that awful fire in Stoke Compton?’ she said, resuming her seat at the table. ‘Well, our Sally has got it into her head that the man that went to prison for it was wrongly convicted. She’s trying to find out who might really have been responsible. Isn’t that right, Sally?’
‘Well . . . sort of . . .’ I admitted.
‘Wouldn’t it be a thing?’ Mum went on, ‘if she were to uncover a whole different story? That that poor man has been sent to prison for something he didn’t do? She’s been to Compton today, haven’t you, Sally? Talking to all the people those girls knew. How did you get on, love?’
‘I spoke to Lisa Curry – well, Lisa Holder as she is now. She didn’t really tell me anything, but I did find out something awful when I went to Compton Properties. Apparently Dawn Burridge was killed by a hit-and-run driver not long after she went home to Dorset.’
Mum clapped a hand over her mouth, looking shocked.
‘Oh my goodness! That poor girl! What an awful thing!’
‘Yes, and a bit too much of a coincidence for my liking.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Sally, surely you don’t mean . . .?’ Mum said, horrified, and Dad put in:
‘You’re letting your imagination run away with you, our Sal.’
‘Maybe. Just let’s say I’m on the case.’ Then, in an effort to change the subject, I turned back to Jeremy. ‘So when did you get home, Jeremy?’
‘Yesterday afternoon.’
‘And how long are you planning to stay this time?’
Jeremy shrugged elaborately. ‘I really couldn’t say. It all depends on the demands of business. But footloose as I might be, it’s good to be home. I should think I’ll be around long enough to get used to country life again,’ he said with a twinkle that included me. He pushed back his chair and got up. ‘I really should be going – I’ve got a lot of things to do. I just wanted to look in and let you know I’m back. And sample some good English cooking and a cup of tea, of course. Anything you need, Jack, just give me a shout and I’ll help if I can. You know that, don’t you?’
‘You’re a good chap, Jeremy.’ Dad clapped him on the shoulder, but I guessed the offer was really nothing more than polite conversation. Jeremy wasn’t really a farmer, and Dad was fiercely independent. I couldn’t imagine a situation arising where he would call on Jeremy for help. It was just the way things were between them, and always had been. Which made the relationship familiar and comforting.
‘And when that leg’s better, come over and take one of the horses out,’ Jeremy said to me.
‘Will do.’
But it would be a long time before I was fit to be in the saddle again, I thought ruefully.
Mum was surprised, but pleased, when I told her I was going out that evening with Josh, and – typical Mum – wanted to know all about him.
‘Mum – I don’t really know,’ I said, laughing. ‘But you’ll be able to check him out. He’s picking me up at a quarter to eight.’
‘I don’t need to check him out!’ Mum said a little tartly. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. And I don’t suppose what I think would make any difference, anyway. Since when have you listened to my opinion on your boyfriends?’
‘Since Tim,’ I said ruefully. ‘You were absolutely right about him.’
‘Well, let’s hope this one is an improvement.’
‘Mum, I’m only going for a drink with him.’ I snaffled another drop scone. ‘But it would be good if we could have tea a bit early. He’s picking me up at a quarter to eight, and you know how long it takes me to get ready these days.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Mum was clearing plates and cups off the table. ‘But you’d better not eat any more of those scones, or you’ll have no appetite for it, anyway!’