The Chic Boutique On Baker Street. Rachel Dove
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sniggered at the side of her, and Agatha shot him a fearsome glare. He coughed, covering his tracks feebly, and straightened up, clasping his hands in front of him. Amanda shot a quick look towards Ben, and saw he was watching the exchange with wide-eyed interest. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, poodle primper. Amanda quickly looked back at Agatha.
‘That would be wonderful, thank you. I close at five, is that OK?’
Agatha smiled warmly, her eyes flicking to her companion once more.
‘That’s fine, Amanda—’ she said it ‘A-marn-da’ ‘—I shall send the car for half past six.’
Taylor nodded once, eyes cast to the floor. Amanda also nodded and Agatha smiled again, seemingly satisfied. She then turned her attention to Ben.
‘Now, Benjamin, Miss Perry here is new to the area, and being a native like myself, I would venture that you could be of some assistance, don’t you?’
Ben didn’t get a chance to reply before she went on. ‘Amanda, you are closed on Sunday, do you have plans?’
How did she know that? Amanda thought of her impending day off. My day off? Oh, hours of being sat in PJs probably, scouring Pinterest on the laptop, checking my bank balance and crying intermittently. This didn’t seem like the thing to say, so she just whispered feebly, ‘Er no, not really.’
Agatha bristled with pleasure, not seeing Taylor’s eye-roll to Ben.
‘That’s settled then. Benjamin, you have a day off too. Why don’t you take the girl on a tour, show her the sights of our lovely village?’
Ben cleared his throat, turning to Amanda, an embarrassed look on his face. ‘Er, well, I have a lot on at the moment, I will have to check my …’
Amanda looked up at him and waited a second till her heart stopped doing jumping jacks in her stomach. A day with him! No chance!
‘Benjamin Evans,’ Agatha said, her best scolding voice in full flow. ‘You have better manners than that.’
Ben visibly sagged, his shoulders drooping. Turning to Amanda with a ‘she is making me do this’ face, he said glibly, ‘Of course, I would be delighted to take you on a tour.’
Amanda wanted the ground to swallow her up. She dare not even try to get out of it now. Agatha and her mother would get on like a house on fire.
‘Er, yes, well that would be lovely.’ She paused. ‘If you and Tracy are not too busy, of course.’
Amanda couldn’t think of anything to get out of it. A day with Ben would be bad enough, but watching the couple being all loved up while he sat there plotting her grisly death seemed a lot less appealing.
My Lord, Agatha thought to herself, I could bang this pair’s heads together! Don’t young people talk any more? There was a lot to be said about Facebook statuses, that was for sure. Even an old fogey like me knows that. The two of them had enough tension to implode the universe. She half expected them to start pulling each other’s hair.
Agatha spoke up, cutting through the miscommunications. ‘Tracy?’ she said, trying hard not to yelp in frustration at the duo. ‘Well, Tracy will be busy, dear, with her boyfriend. But I am sure that Benjamin here can manage the tour on his own.’
Taylor sniggered again, louder this time, and Agatha jabbed him with a pointy elbow. He made an ‘ooof’ sound as she connected with his torso, and he spluttered twice before turning to the rear door. Agatha stared at the couple before her as though nothing had happened. They are like moody teenagers, she thought to herself.
‘So, shall we say 10 o’clock, Ben, for you to pick Amanda up?’
She turned to the door, seemingly thinking all was arranged, got in and looked expectantly through her open window as Taylor returned to his seat, red-faced.
Ben muttered quickly, ‘Yes, that would be fine. Amanda?’
Amanda looked into his eyes and nodded.
Agatha nodded back, a smile of accomplishment lighting up her features. ‘All settled then, and I shall see you next week, Amanda. Drive on, Taylor,’ she said in a clipped tone, obviously still ticked off with her driver. Taylor shrugged good-naturedly at her as he pulled away, but Amanda and Ben were oblivious to all, as they still stood, staring at each other.
Ben eventually broke the silence, his voice cracking as he spoke. ‘Wear something warm, OK?’ he said gruffly.
Amanda nodded, turning to her doorway. Male chauvinist pig, he probably thought she would turn up in heels and a ball gown, like some feckless damsel. She would show him.
She felt a warm, manly hand grab hers and she turned back to him in question.
‘Sorry,’ Ben said, his grip easing slightly. ‘I just wanted to ask, do you like chickens?’
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