Page 43 of The Fete of Summer

“Because you two were thick as thieves in the pub the other night.”

“He’s achild.”

“Told you,” said Jaymes, tilting his head at Nathan as he carried another box to the van.

“Who, then?”

“None of your beeswax.”

“You know he’s going to keep guessing, Poll,” called Jaymes. “May as well ‘fess up.”

Polly looked between the two of them before ramming her hands onto her hips.

“Fine. I had dinner with Katherine Cheung, Benny’s mum.”

“Oh,” said Nathan, stopping to raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“For goodness’ sake, nothing like that. I called her to find dirt on Arlene, and as she wasn’t busy on Saturday night, I suggested we have a drink and a bite to eat. I planned to appeal to her journalistic curiosity. And just as well I did. Apparently she has concerns, too. I’ve got her on the case to find out more.”

“You are one tenacious little private detective, aren’t you?” said Nathan. “Hang on. You were going to keep this to yourself.”

Polly shrugged. “She may not come up with anything.”

“Polly Wynter,” said Nathan, mock frowning. “You know we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

Behind Polly’s left shoulder, Jaymes stopped, caught his eye and pulled a face. Fortunately, Polly didn’t notice.

“If I find anything out, you’ll be the first to know. Are you boys coming in for a drink?”

Jaymes beat Nathan to the reply.

“Would love to, Poll,” said Jaymes. “But one of us needs to drive, and I really ought to get back and unpack my crap. And if Nathan doesn’t mind me using his washing machine, I should get some clothes ready for next week.”

“Knock yourself out,” said Nathan.

“Fine, I’ll come to you then,” said Polly, not letting up. “I’ve been marking homework all morning, and my brain is jelly. I need a dose of adult company along with my favourite tipple. I also want to hear everything your solicitor had to say.”

Nathan and Jaymes exchanged glances.

“Fair point,” said Nathan, shrugging in defeat as Jaymes rubbed a hand over one eyebrow. “How about you give us an hour to get Jaymes settled, then come over? Text me when you’re near. We can order a takeaway—”

“The hell we will,” said Jaymes abruptly. “Enough with the bloody junk food. We can stop off at a supermarket on the way back.”

“Ooh,” said Polly, clapping her hands. “Jaymes is going to cook. Bonus! I forgot you have a proper oven-cooking thing. He’s a dab hand in the kitchen. Wait until his skills have wowed you.”

They already had, and Nathan hoped to sample them again, but evidently that would need to wait.

* * * *

Settled in Nathan’s flat, Jaymes knocked up tenderloin steaks, red wine jus, fried onions, button mushrooms, green beans and sautéed potatoes, washed down with Polly’s bottle of full-bodied red Italian Amarone. As they ate, they discussed the trip to the solicitors. Polly echoed Jaymes’ thoughts about the warning being unnecessary, that his first cousin already had a life in Australia, maybe even a family of his own, and now a considerable windfall from his late father. Why would he want to trade the temperate climate of Melbourne for mercurial English weather, chained to a bakery in the most boring village in England?

By eight Nathan found himself yawning a couple of times, something Polly noticed because she made her excuse to leave. They waved her off from the front stoop. As soon as Nathan stepped inside and closed the front door behind them, Jaymes pulled him into an embrace, eagerly seeking out his mouth, his hands cupping and squeezing Nathan’s backside. An involuntary moan escaped Nathan as he moulded himself into Jaymes’ body, his own passion burning with anticipation until Jaymes broke the kiss and whispered into Nathan’s ear.

“Come on. Let’s rinse the dirty dishes and load the dishwasher.”

“You have a sick sense of foreplay,” said Nathan.

“I’m thinking we should go to bed, but maybe we ought to sleep. You have to be up early tomorrow.”

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