Wincing, Dulcie wondered if he knew the remarks had been about him.

She cleared her throat.

‘Well, I—’

‘You are? Good, that’s that sorted out. Now you can be friends again,’ Kit announced cheerfully.

‘Now, what are you doing at the moment?’

‘Trying to have a bath.’

‘Okay, so put the phone down and go and have one. We’ll be round in twenty minutes. And make sure you’re decent when we arrive.’ Kit sounded amused. ‘I’m far too young to cope with the sight of a middle-aged woman naked.’

Chapter 44

‘I’m sorry I was a cow,’ said Dulcie.

Liza gave her a hug.

‘Me too.’

‘And I’m not middle-aged,’ Dulcie told Kit, who was carrying in two bottles of Bollinger.

‘You are to me.’ He grinned. ‘But never mind, I’ll let you off. If you find some glasses you can help us celebrate.’

It wasn’t hard to guess what they were celebrating. Liza was looking radiant and ridiculously happy.

‘You made up. You’re back together.’

‘Back together for good,’ said Kit. ‘All very Mills and Boon. Even her parents like me.’

‘Good grief. How about your father?’ Dulcie asked him. ‘Oh well, no change there. He’s a stubborn old bugger but we’ll work on it. Give him a few years.’

‘I can’t believe you’ve met Liza’s parents.You are honoured,’ Dulcie marvelled. In the past, the rapid turnover of men in Liza’s life had meant she’d never bothered.

‘That’s nothing,’ Kit winked. ‘I met their next-door neighbour too.’

Although Dulcie was glad to see them back together, she refused their offer to take her out to lunch. The sexual chemistry between them was overwhelming. They were having difficulty keeping their hands off each other and Kit was clearly dying to take Liza home to bed.

By the time both bottles had been emptied and all the gossip caught up on, it was almost a relief to stand on the doorstep and wave goodbye.

Depressed and light-headed from drinking on an empty stomach, Dulcie dozed on the sofa. She woke up at four o’clock depressed and heavy-headed instead, and with a raging thirst to boot.

Worst of all, it was still Sunday. Talk about dragging on.

There was nothing on television. To pass a bit of time she meticulously painted her nails a dramatic shade of red. Only when she’d finished the third coat did she remember she couldn’t work in Rufus’s kitchen wearing nail polish. It all had to come off.

This time when the phone rang, it was Rufus.

‘Oh hi,’ said Dulcie listlessly. She was currently trying to decide whether to peel off the kitchen wallpaper just for something to do, or have another bath.

‘I wondered what you were doing,’ said Rufus. ‘Any plans?’

‘No.’ Dulcie made it sound as if she’d had hundreds of offers, of course, but she’d actually wanted to stay in and go out of her mind with loneliness and boredom. ‘Why?’

He said eagerly, ‘I wondered if you’d like to come to the theatre with me. They’re doing a special charity performance of the new Poliakoff with Brian Blessed.’

Dulcie was almost certain Poliakoff wasn’t her cup of tea. And she absolutely knew she hated going to the theatre.

She frowned. ‘Brian Blessed? Is he the one with the beard? I can’t stand beards.’

‘Okay,’ Rufus replied equably, after a moment’s silence. ‘Are you saying you’d prefer a night in?’

‘I’m saying I’d prefer the cinema.’ Brightening, Dulcie said, ‘The new Demi Moore film’s on at the Odeon. It’s supposed to be great.’

‘Demi Moore? Does he have a beard?’

Dulcie hesitated, wondering if Rufus was joking. ‘I’m joking,’ said Rufus.

Dulcie grinned. It wasn’t until they had arranged to meetoutside the cinema and Rufus had hung up that she realised what she’d said.

What was it Patrick used to murmur whenever she made one of her famous faux pas? ‘Dulcie, are you sure you want to be a diplomat when you grow up?’

Dulcie experienced a brief pang of guilt. Rufus, bless him, hadn’t said a word.

‘Oh my God ...’

Any faint hope she might have harboured that the remark had slipped by unnoticed was extinguished when Dulcie spotted him waiting for her on the pavement outside the Odeon.

‘You’ve shaved it off!’

Rufus shrugged and looked embarrassed, as if he hadn’t expected her to notice.

‘I’ve been meaning to for ages. When I woke up this morning I just thought today’s the day.’

‘You look so different.’ Dulcie examined his face from all angles.

Carefully casual, Rufus said, ‘Different better or different worse?’

She was lost for words. The answer was neither, his face looked ... well, naked.

But this was no time to dither. Feeling horribly responsible — because all this stuff about having done the deed this morning was clearly untrue — Dulcie reached up and touched his pink, baby-smooth jaw.

‘Much, much better. It’s brilliant. I love it. Really.’

Rufus flushed with pleasure. Dulcie, congratulating herself on having got away with it, grabbed his hand and dragged him into the plush crimson foyer.

‘Come on, we’ll be late. You don’t want anything to eat, do you?’ This as they sped past the popcorn and bags of sweets. ‘I can’t stand people stuffing their faces in cinemas; they always sound like pigs at a trough.’

Rufus, a secret popcorn addict, was already reaching into his pocket. He promptly let the wallet drop. He was out on a date with Dulcie and that was all that mattered.

‘Nor me.’

‘I just wanted to see this with my own eyes,’ said Liza at eight forty-five the next morning.

‘You and the rest of the world,’ Dulcie muttered, clearing the table and signalling Liza’s order for coffee and a bacon roll to Rufus as he headed back to the kitchen.

‘I thought he had a beard.’

Briefly, Dulcie said, ‘He did.’

Rufus emerged a couple of minutes later with Liza’s breakfast. The bacon, he assured her, was locally cured and free range; it had come from a happy pig.

‘He seems nice,’ Liza observed when he had gone.

‘He is.’ Dulcie whipped out her order pad as another table clicked their fingers at her. ‘Sorry, I’ll have to deal with this lot.’

‘You could do worse,’ said Liza.

Dulcie, shiny-faced and with the harassed air of someone rushed off their feet for the last two hours, said, ‘What, than Rufus?’ She grinned as she moved off. ‘Oh yeah, he’s really my type.’

Dulcie probably wasn’t Rufus’s type either, Liza decided twenty minutes later, but that hadn’t stopped him developing a massive crush on her.

‘Of course I’m serious,’ she repeated patiently, amazed that Dulcie could have remained so blithely unaware of the situation. What was she, blind? ‘Look at the way he looks at you. He fancies you rotten.’

Dulcie’s heart sank. Damn, she hated it when that happened. Being fancied rotten was only fun when it was mutual. ‘I thought we were just good friends.’

Sorrowfully, Liza shook her head.

‘You told him you weren’t wild about beards, didn’t you?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Think about it. If some just-goodfriend said it to you, would you shave your beard oft?’

When Eddie and Arthur appeared in the courtyard at ten thirty, Pru was already waiting in the Jag. She was wearing a sage-green cotton shirt, a narrow black skirt and black sandals. And, Eddie noticed at once, the diamond earrings from Liam.

He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. He’d behaved like an idiot on Saturday. Whatever Pru was getting up to was her own affair, even if it was with Liam.

It’s none of my business, Eddie told himself fiercely. They’re both free agents, they can do as they like.

He watched Pru emptying the ashtray of sweet wrappers and thought, I’d never have a chance with her anyway.

Arthur leapt into the car, woofing with delight and burying his nose frantically in Pru’s handful of wrappers in search of any remaining trace of chocolate.

Eddie shoved Arthur over into the back seat. He decided to come straight to the point.

‘Look, I’m sorry I was a moody sod. Saturday was a bad day. Can we forget it happened?’

Pru looked relieved.

‘I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.’

‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’

Bloody stupid, maybe. But not wrong.

Forgiving him instantly, Pru smiled. ‘Unlike you, you mean.’

‘What?’ Eddie protested when she held up the sweet wrappers. ‘Are you saying I’m not allowed to eat?’

‘I’m saying you’re not allowed to drive.’

He looked suitably abashed.

‘Just practising for when I get my licence back.’

Pru made up her mind at that precise moment. The tentative plan she had formulated during her stay at Dulcie’s had ground to an abrupt halt on Saturday when Eddie had gone weird on her.

But now everything was back to normal ... well, why not? She covered her face with her hands and sneezed.

Then she sneezed again.

‘Sorry about this. Must be the moulting season.’ Fishing in her bag, Pru wiped her eyes with a tissue. Between sneezes, she glanced over her shoulder at a bemused Arthur then turned apologetically to Eddie.

‘It’s the dog hair. Would you mind awfully if we left him behind?’

‘You’re allergic to Arthur?’

Pru blew her nose and nodded. Looking regretful, she said, ‘It doesn’t last long. Every year I get this, just for a few days. By next week I’ll be fine, I promise.’

Without a word, Eddie opened the door again and shooed Arthur out. It wasn’t as if the dog minded; Arthur was a great favourite around Brunton Manor, not least with Lolita, the gardener’s flirtatious black and white spaniel.

Eddie, though, was hurt. He knew Pru wasn’t the world’s greatest dog lover but did she really hate Arthur that much? Because those sneezes definitely weren’t real.