Page 43 of Wild About You

We managed a proper kiss this time, but my mind was scrambling, and not in the way it had with Jamie. I mean, Callum was very attractive, sure he was, but for some reason I could note this dispassionately. With Jamie, my reaction had been immediate, intense and physical. Undeniable.

Callum tilted his head and looked at me shyly. ‘Do you fancy a drink tonight? At the Rising Sun?’

‘Er, yes,’ I said. ‘That would be nice.’

He smiled, and nodded. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘Great.’

Back at the house, the aftermath of the fair was still being ‘processed’. Tally had been reined in from giving ‘feedback’ (criticism) to the volunteers and was raging that sticky fingerprints had been found on a Boulle cabinet, thus necessitating more restoration. ‘From Darren?’ asked Fi.

‘No! He’s paintings!’ cried Tally. ‘And if that ice-cream man calls me again, I shall go mad. He wants to set up here every weekend.’

‘I’ll mention it to Jamie,’ said Fi, drifting out the room with a dreamy smile on her face. ‘Get the restoration quoteto me when you can, Tally. I need to assign it to the correct budget line.’

‘You’re very cheerful,’ I said to Fi later, as I supervised a harried furniture conservator who had been summoned urgently from Newcastle in the pouring rain, only to find Tally was on the longest lunch break of her life.

She blushed. ‘Things are so good with me and Richard. It’s like we’re on honeymoon again.’

‘Spare me the details,’ I said, with a grin. The furniture conservator had a gloomy look on his face as he inspected the sticky fingerprints on the black and gold cabinet and muttered to himself about ‘little blighters’ as he unpacked his kit on the polished floorboards.

‘Have you,’ Fi glanced over her shoulder, ‘spoken to Jamie recently? He seems a bit down. He’s been spending most of his time on long walks with Hugo.’

‘Well, dogs are better than people,’ I said, ‘so I don’t blame him. Also, we don’t speak to each other, remember? Everything has to go through Callum.’

‘Mmm.’ Fi narrowed her eyes at me. ‘No more arguments with him?’

‘Nope,’ I said, managing to combine looking innocent with feeling guilty as Fi looked at me suspiciously. Let’s have a girlie night soon,’ I said. ‘Wine, takeaway, film?’

‘How many children did you let loose on this cabinet?’ piped up the conservator.

I began my long explanation about the fete, and the involvement of candy floss and ice cream. Fi received a callabout a malfunctioning till and disappeared in the direction of the gift shop.

When the conservator had been pacified, I returned to my desk and switched on Forestcam for a quick hit of serenity. The faint scent of cherry informed me that Callum was vaping in his office as he answered emails. I was texting Keith about an upcoming delivery of lavender when an email from Callum landed in my inbox with the title: ‘This is unusual!!!!’. It was so unlike Callum to use exclamation marks that I opened it immediately.

It was my proposal to establish a beehive near Belheddonbrae; Jamie’s response to Callum’s request for clearance. It had been sent at 5am that morning.

Hi Callum: tell Anna she can have whatever she wants. J

I sat very still and observed the faint thud of my own pulse in my ears. Why did that one-line email feel like something more than a work email?

Because I was crazy, that’s why. It was simply the meanderings of my crazed brain.

Tally breezed in. ‘Pat says you let the conservator in to look at the Boulle? I hope you supervised him properly.’

‘Oh, knoboff!’ I said, digging through my bag for my pasta salad and a box of painkillers. I had a headache and I needed carbs, pronto.

‘Someone’s hangry,’ said Tally, wandering back in the direction of the photocopier.

I was wolfing down my lunch in the niche, waiting for the kettle to boil, when Tally reappeared and gave a shriek, and I looked up.

Hugo.

He was sitting in my chair. Sitting up cheerfully, like a soldier about to salute.

‘Oh God, I left some chewing gum on my desk – he hasn’t eaten it, has he?’ wailed Tally, dredging through her customary piles of paper. ‘Jamie loves that flea-bitten idiot. I can’t be responsible for—Phew! It’s here.’

‘Hello you,’ I said to Hugo, leaving my lunch on the counter.

Hugo gave a single, low bark. But his tail thumped, to show friendly intent.

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