The Little Cottage in the Country. Lottie Phillips
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flashed Anna an apologetic look. ‘I’ll set up a DVD on my laptop for the kids.’
Anna headed back to her bedroom and grabbed the far-too-short black dress, slipping into it. With no full-length mirror, she had no way of checking on her appearance before she quickly brushed her hair out, applied some mascara and lip gloss and headed down the stairs.
Diane let out a low wolf-whistle and nodded approvingly; her mother, however, gave her that look, the one that said I did not bring you up to dress like a tart, and sipped her tea. Anna thought she might have got away with it when her mother opened her mouth and said, ‘I think you’d suit the tartan dress I gave you better.’
‘Right.’ Anna ignored her. ‘So what do you think you might play with the children?’
‘Ah, I thought we could watch Sex and the City reruns.’
‘Uh, Mum…’ Anna started panicking. ‘They’re not really old enough to be watching them. Just yet.’ She thought of Mr Big and the drinking and the talk about… ‘No, Mum, you can’t.’
Her mother pouted. ‘Fine.’
Diane whisked Anna towards the door, clearly sensing an imminent crisis. They put on their coats and Anna blew the twins kisses before stepping out into the October chill.
‘You know, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.’ Anna looked back at the closed front door. ‘I mean, Mum, she’s a bit off with the fairies.’
Diane linked arms with Anna, propelling her forward. ‘How old is she again?’
‘Sixty.’
‘Wow. She’s very…’
‘Full-on? Sexual? Bonkers?’ Anna shrugged. ‘Your choice.
‘All of the above.’
In heels, the walk to the pub was a good fifteen minutes longer than they had anticipated. Half an hour later, with feet that suggested frostbite and jaws truly locked into place, they breathed an audible sigh of relief at the light streaming from the pub window.
Anna had a quick look inside and, as yet, it appeared no one else had arrived. ‘It’s very quiet,’ she said, trying to hide her relief. They could just have a quick drink and head home.
‘Yeah, but it’ll fill up. Come on.’ Diane dragged her inside.
They tottered through the door and looked around. The pub was decked out in oak panelling, photos of Trumpsey Blazey through the ages adorned the walls, and a roaring fire brought welcome warmth to the women. However, one thing was missing: punters.
A balding man with a stomach that met them first came through a door on the other side and waddled up to the bar.
‘Can I help you?’
Diane started, ‘Yeah, we, um, thought there was some sort of event here tonight. Only, there’s no one here.’
‘Wrong,’ the man said. ‘I’m here and, if you look past the beam, here’s Nigel.’
Anna and Diane swayed, in sync, to have a closer look and, sure enough, an old man sat at the bar, staring into the depths of his bitter.
‘Right,’ Anna waded in. ‘It’s just that we booked our places for the speed-dating event.’
‘Speed dating? Here?’
‘Yes,’ Diane said, indignant, ‘I booked our places on the phone. I spoke to someone called Chris. He’s waiting for us. We’re journalists.’
‘You’ve got the wrong Rose and Crown. I think you must’ve rang Little Bury.’ He burst into laughter, his paunch moving up and down, his excess flesh having a field day and his plethoric face flushing with amusement. ‘Anyway, it’s no problem,’ he winked. ‘I can think of plenty of guys who’d like to chat to you pretty ladies.’ He headed out back momentarily before returning to the bar. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
Diane nodded. ‘Might as well, seeing as we’re here now.’
‘What’ll you be having?’ The landlord readied himself.
Diane spoke on their behalf. ‘We’ll have a bottle of dry white. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’
‘John.’ He bent down to the undercounter fridge.
She smiled at him and indicated Anna. ‘Seeing as Anna, here, didn’t even want to come out, and now I’ve dragged her to the wrong pub, the least I can do is buy a bottle.’
Anna was relieved in actual fact. ‘No, it’s fine.’
Anna pulled her dress down as it steadily rode further up her thighs like a piece of unruly clingfilm. Soon they were ensconced at a table in the corner, by the fire, and Anna almost forgot why they had come in the first place. She felt herself relaxing and her limbs thawing. Diane sat facing the door, her eyes darting towards it every time she heard any notion of a sound outside.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Don’t want to miss any hot totty.’
‘Can’t imagine, that’s going to happen,’ Anna said, scanning the empty pub, her eyes resting on Nigel sinking his third pint.
‘Hope there aren’t, like, loads of good-looking women around here. Hate competition.’
Anna smiled. ‘There won’t be because said good-looking women will have been snapped up by all the good-looking men, leaving us with…’
‘Oh, come on. A girl’s gotta dream…’
Diane didn’t get to finish her sentence because the pub door flew open and in marched a group of six or so men, all good-looking, all exuding youth and testosterone. Diane breathed in excitedly. ‘I’ll be damned if heaven hasn’t just walked through that door.’
Anna had to admit the pub suddenly looked like the set for a men’s outdoor clothing ad, and she thought the evening might prove to be more exciting than she had first imagined. But just as quickly as she had conjured up this new, positive way of thinking, in walked Horatio. He spotted her and came over, that same irritating, self-satisfied smirk on his face.
‘Hi,’ he said to Anna and then introduced himself to Diane. ‘I’m Horatio. We haven’t met.’
Diane, in full flirting mode, fluttered her eyelashes and shook his hand. ‘Diane. Anna’s bestie.’
‘Bestie?’ he said.
Diane smiled sweetly. ‘Yeah, you know, best friend.’
‘Ah, silly me.’ He looked at Diane and then his eyes ran the length of Anna’s body. ‘You both look wonderful. Going somewhere special?’
This is what he does, Anna thought. This is his way of making everyone around him feel about two inches tall. He knew they were on the pull, and yet he liked to watch women squirm.
Diane, missing this subtlety, fondled her necklace and announced, ‘We were here for the speed dating.’
‘Ah, the speed dating. Up there with potato planting, heh, Anna?’ She scowled. ‘I didn’t know there was speed dating here.’
‘There’s not,’ Diane said, grinning. ‘John says it’s at the other Rose and Crown, in Little Bury.’ She paused and slapped her own hand. ‘My bad.’
‘Oh?’ Horatio looked mildly amused. ‘But why should two such beautiful women need to go speed dating?’
‘Because,’ Diane explained, ‘if you can believe it, we’re not taken.’
‘More fool my species.’ Horatio nodded. ‘Lovely to see you both and hope you have a good evening.’ He met Anna’s eye. ‘I’m sorry about what I said to you… About the house… I’m looking into it as soon as I can find the papers. But I’m sure you’re