‘You smell gorgeous,’ Will whispered, nuzzling the nape of her neck.

Oh, he definitely knew how to nuzzle .. .

‘ Bugger,’ squeaked Estelle as the smell of something far less gorgeous filled the air. Snatching up the iron, she gazed in horror at the brown v-shaped scorch mark on the cuff of Oliver’s shirt.

‘Oops,’ said Will with a grin.

It’s worse than oops. This is Oliver’s favourite shirt,’ wailed Estelle. With his own shambolic Worzel Gummidge style of dressing, Will couldn’t begin to understand.

The telltale ting of the phone extension told them that Oliver’s call was at an end and he was on his way downstairs. Flapping her arms in desperation to get Will away from her and simultaneously dispel the smell of expensive burned shirt, Estelle squealed, ‘Oh God, here he comes now, he’s going to go mental ...’

By the time the kitchen door flew open, Will’s video camera was whirring away. Oliver, instantly aware of it but naturally pretending not to be, said, ‘Darling, have you finished my shirts?’

Darling, ha.

‘ Had a bit of an accident, I’m afraid.’ Estelle confessed at once, because there was no point trying to pretend it hadn’t happened, Oliver would spot the scorch mark in no time flat. ‘Burned one of the cuffs.’

His face reddened with annoyance. ‘Not the blue one.’

‘Sorry,’ said Estelle.

Instead of exploding in fury — ‘I wanted my shirts ironed, four shirts, is that too much to ask?’ —

Oliver was obliged to shake his head with good-humoured resignation, because this could end up in the final edit being broadcast to millions.

Helpfully, Estelle said, ‘You could always roll your sleeves up.’

His eyebrows raised in derision, Oliver said, ‘I’m not Tony Blair.’

No, thought Estelle, Tony Blair has sex with his wife.

‘I’ll be leaving in ten minutes.’ Gathering up the other ironed and folded shirts, Oliver headed out of the kitchen to finish packing. ‘A coffee before I go would he nice, if you think you can manage it without burning the beans.’

‘Just ignore him,’ Will murmured when the video camera had been safely turned off.

‘I got off lightly. Thanks to you.’ Estelle’s smile was rueful.

Will gave her a wicked look. ‘You have no idea how much I want to kiss you.’

It wasn’t the first time he’d said this, but it still had the most extraordinary effect on Estelle’s knees. Like Ker-Plunk, she half expected them to give way at any moment, causing her to collapse in a heap on the ground.

‘Sshh.’ Scooting over to the coffee machine, she began trowelling in beans.

‘D’you know what I love about you? The fact that you have absolutely no idea how sexy you are.’

Will followed her, a playful smile lighting up his face.

‘Right, all done. What are you two whispering about?’ Oliver, barging back into the kitchen with his Louis Vuitton case, glanced at his watch.

‘How mean you are to me,’ said Estelle and he laughed, humouring her.

‘I’ll bring you back some of that scent you like from duty free, will that do?’ Oliver dropped a fleeting kiss on her forehead. ‘Don’t bother with the coffee, we need to get going. OK?’ he said to Will, who was dropping him at Heathrow on his way back to London.

‘No problem.’ Ambling around the kitchen, Will collected up his belongings, the video camera, his tatty, haphazardly packed rucksack and a Waitrose carrier bulging with the battery pack and tapes he’d used so far.

‘Ready?’ Always loath to waste a moment, Oliver was by this time hovering impatiently in the doorway.

‘Absolutely. Just one thing left to do before I go.’ Making his way back over to Estelle, Will gave her a clumsy one-armed hug and kissed her noisily on both cheeks. ‘Thanks for putting up with me.’

‘My pleasure.’ Estelle couldn’t believe how deliciously naughty this felt. ‘See you again soon.’

A whole week without Will. She was missing him already. However would she cope?

Chapter 37

Maddy pulled up on double yellows outside Jameson’s, the tiny newsagents on the corner of Tapper Street and Marlborough Hill. She should have said no; the staff at Callaghan and Fox could find themselves another delivery service easily enough if they bothered to scour the Yellow Pages. It felt strange, preparing sandwiches that you knew were going to be eaten by Kerr; for a moment while she’d been making them this morning, she’d been horribly tempted to slip a love note into his chicken and chilli-prawn wrap.

But Sara had been unstoppable on the phone when she’d rung to place the order, informing Maddy in no uncertain terms that the arrangements had already been made. Basically, Maddy hadn’t had the nerve to turn her down.

‘You’re delivering all that stuff to this one little shop?’ Next to her in the passenger seat, Kate was incredulous. ‘What, you mean the guy sells your food from here?’

It had been during last night’s darts match at the Angel that Kate had overheard Maddy telling someone that she drove into Bath before ten o’clock each morning. Kate had said eagerly, ‘So you could give me a lift, save me having to get a taxi? I’ve got some shopping I need to do tomorrow.’

And since they were now officially friends again, Maddy had felt compelled to say, ‘No problem, but I don’t know what time I’ll finish so you’ll have to find your own way back.’

Now, lugging the packed cool-box out of the car, she said, ‘This is for Kerr’s company, Callaghan and Fox.’ She nodded in the direction of Marlborough Hill. ‘They’re in Claremont House, up there on the left. I drop the order here, someone comes down later to pick it up, and I don’t run the risk of bumping into Kerr.’

It was pathetic, but even saying his name was painful.

‘Actually, here’s fine for me.’ Peering round, Kate unbuckled her seat belt. ‘I can cut through to Milsom Street from the end of that road down there. Thanks for the lift.’

‘No problem,’ said Maddy. ‘Have a good day.’

As she click-clacked her way down the narrow side street, Kate smiled to herself. With a bit of luck she might have a better day than she’d planned.

Five minutes later, when Maddy was safely out of sight, she returned to the little newsagents.

‘Hi, I’ve come to pick up the delivery for Callaghan and Fox.’

‘Blimey, you don’t waste much time, it’s only just arrived. Hang on, love, I’ll go and get it.’

Moments later the wiry, middle-aged newsagent handed the cool-box over to Kate. ‘Bit heavy, love. Sure you can manage?’

He was doing his best not to stare at the damaged side of her face. Flashing him a broad smile, Kate said reassuringly, ‘I’m fine.’

As he watched her leave — pretty girl, shame about the scars — Mike Jameson reflected happily that this was set to be the easiest twenty quid a week he’d earned in his life.

Marlborough Hill wasn’t for the faint-hearted. By the time she reached Claremont House, Kate was-pink-cheeked and panting like a porn star. Pausing at the entrance to get her breath back, she prayed that after all this effort Kerr wouldn’t be out.

Careful not to disturb her foundation, she blotted her face with a tissue. Coming home to Ashcombe had undoubtedly been a good move; against all expectations, the familiar village environment had done wonders for her self-esteem. Just a couple of months ago, she could never have envisaged herself working in a pub, serving customers, sometimes completely forgetting her scars for – well, maybe not hours, but certainly minutes at a time. The fact that people treated her normally and no longer cringed at the sight of her had boosted her confidence no end, proving that a life following physical disfigurement was possible. Crikey, just look at what she was preparing to do now! Six weeks ago this would have been out of the question. And yet here she was, acting completely on impulse, ready to reintroduce herself to Kerr McKinnon, upon whom she’d once had the most enormous crush.

Who knew what might happen, Kate thought giddily, fantasising already as she made her way up the broad staircase. She and Maddy had mended their differences. They were friends again now and she was truly glad about that. But there was absolutely no need to feel guilty also coming here today, because Kerr and Maddy were no longer together. And just because Maddy wasn’t allowed to be with him .. .

Well, it seemed a shame to let a good man go to waste.

‘Hi, can I help you?’ The plump receptionist’s gaze zoomed in on the cool-box as she spoke, her eyes lighting up, her glossy lips parting in delight. ‘Oh wow, is that ... ?’

‘I’m a friend of Maddy’s,’ Kate explained. ‘We dropped this off at the newsagents this morning but I thought I’d save someone the bother of coming to pick it up.’

‘You’re an angel. Aren’t they just the best sandwiches in the world? I tell you, I could have kicked Kerr when he broke up with Maddy – I mean, how could he? Typical bloody man – ooh, look!’ Rooting busily through the contents of the cool-box, the girl let out a yelp of recognition.

‘Here’s mine, rare beef and horseradish on rye. I’m never going to last until lunchtime. I just want to eat them now.’

The girl was either a first-rate receptionist, trained not to react with so much as a flicker of revulsion to the sight of a scarred face, or she was so utterly entranced by her sandwich that everything else faded into insignificance. Mentally bracing herself – she was here, this was it – Kate said,

‘Actually, is Kerr around?’

‘Oh, you know Kerr too! No problem, he’s in his office, I’ll just give him a buzz.’ As she reached for the intercom, the girl said excitedly, ‘Is that why you’re here? To give Kerr a damn good talking to for being silly enough to dump Maddy?’