Page 57 of Fundamentals in Flirting

I undid the button on my jeans to relieve some of the pressure on my bulging abdomen. “It’s working.”

Teddy smirked. “I can see that. Are you going to remove those tattered jeans entirely?”

“Shush. Let me sink into this food coma in peace, you heathen.”

Teddy scooped the remainder of the lasagne into a spare bowl and covered it with tin foil, placing it on the counter near the fridge to cool. “I’ll drop this into Agnes tomorrow for her to reheat. I forgot to say that I saw her this morning and I’m a bit worried about her.”

“Why?”

“Well, after that incident in the car park the other day, and the state of her house, don’t you think we should contact someone about helping her?”

“I spoke with Giles about her and I’m not sure she wants any help, Teddy.” I was uncomfortable thinking about this. She was struggling, undoubtedly, but in her lucid moments she was as capable as anyone I’d ever met. I felt her independence at my very core and saw her unshakeable tenacity as something to which I could only aspire to on my very best days.

“Not social services, but family?”

“Perhaps, if you can find anyone. Do you think she’d be upset if we went behind her back though?”

Teddy looked doubtful for a moment. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure I can sit back and do nothing.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to her about her family. Perhaps her husband’s brother is still alive? See where you get to with it.”

Teddy nodded and took another sip of wine, seemingly placated that I was on board with his do-gooding. “You haven’t forgotten that it’s the garden party tomorrow, have you? We need to leave by 8pm.”

“Yes, right, of course.”

I’d completely forgotten about this. I’d blanked out the horror of the scenario from my mind in a vain attempt at hoping this obligation would go away. No such luck.

“You might even have fun. You never know.”

The withering look that appeared unbidden on my face must have been a sight to behold because Teddy roared with laughter. He stood up and pulled me reluctantly to my feet.

“Come on. I’ll walk you back to yours so we can both get clean in your shower.”

ChapterEighteen

“Betsy? I need your help.”

“Hey, girl. What’s up?” Her reply to my panicked phone call was calm, her voice a smooth, welcoming shot of tranquillity to my fraught nerves.

“Are you going to the Business Community garden party tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, I am! Giles asked me as Jenny didn’t want to go. He said you were going with someone else. Are you?”

“I’m meant to be, but I’m having second thoughts and serious wardrobe issues.” I glanced at all of my clothes that were strewn across my bed, haphazardly spread like I’d been burgled and the villain had left in disgust at my severe lack of anything even remotely fashionable to steal. In fact, he’d probably just nipped out to Marks & Spencer to get me a decent set of underwear and a pair of trousers that weren’t jeans. “I need your help.”

“I’ll be right over.” The phone went dead and the heavy weight of hopelessness started to lift just a little.

She arrived precisely twenty-three minutes later and grilled me as to my invite. When she found out Teddy had asked me, her eyes went round, like teacups, their dark, soulful depths widening in surprise and pleasure.

“Then we need to go shopping and get you something to knock his socks off.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I spluttered, thinking that I really didn’t need to give Teddy any hint of an idea that I’d dressed up for his benefit. He’d be unbearable, and I really didn’t want to give him any idea of the astronomical levels of attraction I seemed to be developing for him.

“Nonsense. I saw this stunning green dress in the vintage shop that would look so beautiful on you.”

And that was that. No brokering a deal, or telling me that the slightly wrinkled and moth-eaten dress I’d worn for my graduation ball ten years ago would be ok. Nope, I was whisked into town so that my hair could be cut and my eyebrows shaped, courtesy of Betsy’s friend Melinda. Then, the most beautiful emerald-green silk halter-neck dress was carefully wrapped in tissue and placed reverentially into a posh paper bag, along with a pair of silver strappy sandals. My purse left significantly lighter.

It was getting close to 7pm when Betsy finally left, having worked her magic with some make-up which made my eyes look huge and doe-like and my skin fresh and dewy with a hint of colour to my cheeks and lips. I stared and stared at myself in the full-length mirror, not fully able to process the reflection that gazed back at me. Not beautiful, no, but striking perhaps? The angular points of my face had been softened and my freckles were no longer the aspect that drew my eye, even though they were as prominent as ever.

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