Page 101 of The Good Neighbour
“Josh.”
She came over and flung her arms around him.
“I’ve missed you.”
He’d been away nearly a month now.
“Aww I’ve missed you all too.”
“Will you be coming home for Christmas?” Mrs Wimpole asked.
It was only a few weeks away. Josh hadn’t even thought about it.
“I hope to,” he replied.
“Good,” Mrs Wimpole said, taking the Professor’s hand. “Because we’d like you to be at our wedding.”
Josh’s jaw dropped. “Already?”
“At our age there’s no sense in waiting,” the Professor said.
Mrs Wimpole rolled her eyes. “And I thought it was because you were desperate to get your hands on me.”
The Professor went scarlet, which made them all laugh.
“And things with Hugh?” Madeline asked.
“Perfect.”
The show was going great guns. The premise was the village where Henrietta Harlton (Hugh) and Professor Gwendolyn Huffam (Michael) lived had come under alien attack. The two heroes were ready to defend their homes in Little Fanny against these intruders.
Josh and his neighbours had front row seats. He kept glancing across at Mrs Wimpole and the Professor. They had grinned the entire time. He also noticed they’d held hands too.
Suzanne caught his eye and winked. He settled in his seat. Everything was coming up roses, that was for sure. If only he could send a message to himself a year ago to let him know that the pain would be worth it.
Instead he watched Hugh. The costumes were fantastic under the stage lights. Most of the action had taken place in the local pub, The Scruffy Beaver.
“I think we’re done for,” Professor Huffam said, clutching Henrietta.
“Nonsense,” she replied. “I led the charge against the Women’s Institute of Slack Bottom. I will not surrender. Not now. Not ever.”
Hugh had Mrs Wimpole down perfectly. Josh could well imagine Queens Crescent would be the last place on earth to surrender if they experienced a similar invasion.
“You are magnificent,” Professor Huffam replied. “Tell me what I must do, Henrietta.”
“Summon the bowling club. They will be our first line of defence,” she ordered. “Then call on the gardeners to raise their hoes.”
She walked centre stage. Josh smiled up at her.
“My mother told me a poem for times of need, Professor. Would you like to hear it?”
“Oh please.”
She held her hands together. Quick as lightning, Henrietta glanced down at Mrs Wimpole and winked.
Once more unto the breach we go
To save Little Fanny from our foe
