Part 5 (2/2)

'Who the h.e.l.l is this ringing me in the middle of the night?'

'It's me Lou,' I told him, laughing. 'And as a matter of fact, it's half past eight.'

'Like I said the middle of the night.' He cleared his throat. 'Only joking, Lou. It's good to hear from you any time. What can I do for you?'

'It's more what I can do for you,' I told him. 'How would you like me to come and cook you a traditional slap-up Christmas dinner in your own home?'

I could almost hear him blinking. 'Sorry, it's a bit early for riddles,' he said. 'I could have sworn you offered to cook me Christmas dinner in my own home. You did say you were Lou Davies, didn't you not meals on wheels?'

I laughed. 'No, it's me all right and it's Louise Delmar, cloth-ears! I'll explain I had a call from my stepmum last night; they're all off to Sweden for a Scandinavian Christmas. Of course, they wanted me to join them but I don't fancy it. My flatmate is off home so I thought why don't Mark and I team up? It could be fun.'

'That would be great, Lou!' He sounded fully awake now. 'A home-cooked Christmas dinner plus your company! How lucky could I get?' There was a pause then he said, 'Flatmate? You never said you had a flatmate.'

I bit my lip hard and forced a laugh. 'Didn't I? Well, it's only a recent arrangement. She had nowhere to go so I offered her a room.' Suddenly I remembered that he knew Di from our time at drama school, but I decided not to mention that.

'Right.' He lowered his voice. 'Hey I hope you're a good cook.'

'The best,' I lied, crossing my fingers and thanking G.o.d for Aunt Bessie.

Chapter Seven.

'You're not going to let her cook the Christmas dinner, I hope.'

Simon tutted irritably as he straightened the bottom sheet and punched his pillow into shape. 'Look at this. She doesn't even know how to make a bed properly!'

'Oh, stop finding fault with the poor girl. You haven't stopped since she arrived.' Karen slapped cleansing cream onto her face and whipped a tissue out of the box on the dressing table. 'She's an absolute treasure with Peter. He adores her. She's so patient and creative with him.'

'So she might be but you can't say the same about her cooking. It's abysmal,' Simon complained. 'Tasteless stodge in watery gravy.'

'Shhh! Keep your voice down. She'll hear you.'

'That's another thing,' he hissed. 'The only place we can actually have a private conversation is in bed and even then it has to be conducted in whispers. And as for doing anything else in bed ...'

'Simon! Keep it down, for G.o.d's sake.' She turned to him. 'Look, if I keep working we'll be able to afford a bigger house in a couple of years. Surely it's worth a few sacrifices.'

'That's a matter of opinion. And I thought you said she spoke fluent English.'

'She does.'

'When we're around, yes, but when she's on her own with Peter she obviously speaks to him in Dutch. When I spoke to him the other day he came out with a mouthful of it and when I asked her about it, she said it was a nursery rhyme. I was horrified. It's coming to something when I can't even understand what my own son is saying.'

'Isn't it an a.s.set for him to be growing up bilingual?'

'If it was German or French, yes, but where or when is he going to need Dutch?'

'You never know.' Karen drew back the duvet and climbed into bed. 'Why can't you think about all the advantages of having Adrey with us? You have to admit that the house is spotless and your s.h.i.+rts are beautifully ironed.' She turned to look at his unconvinced face and decided to play her trump card. 'Best of all, Louise won't be joining us this Christmas because we simply haven't a spare room any more.'

'Well, that is a plus, I suppose,' he said grudgingly.

'And aren't you pleased that I'm not so tired these days?' She reached across to kiss him and her hand crept under the waistband of his pyjamas. 'In fact I'm feeling really s.e.xy tonight.'

He grasped her hand and firmly removed it. 'Well I'm not. How do you expect me to work up any enthusiasm when there's just a thin part.i.tion between us and her?'

'She's probably asleep. Anyway, we don't go in for all that noisy stuff.'

He turned his back to her and switched off his bedside lamp pointedly. 'I told you, I can't work up any enthusiasm and if I can't well, surely I don't have to draw you a picture?'

'There's no need to be crude.'

'Just go to sleep, Karen, or you'll look like nothing on earth in the morning.'

Deeply hurt, she switched off her own lamp and turned over, a lump in her throat. Presently, a large tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away with a corner of the duvet. After a few minutes she felt Simon turn towards her.

'I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean that,' he said quietly. When she made no reply he reached out a hand to rest on her waist. 'I've got such a lot of stress at school as you know, what with the coming festivities and everything. I know how hard you work too and I do appreciate it.' The hand crept up to cup her breast. 'Know what?' he whispered in her ear. 'I think I can hear Adrey snoring.'

Karen couldn't conceal the chuckle that rose in her throat. Taking his hand she moved it slowly down her body and lifted her face for his kiss.

Chapter Eight.

Susan said goodnight to the rest of the group as they left the cla.s.sroom in twos and threes and began to put on her coat. It was the second meeting of the Green Fingers Club she had attended and the last before Christmas. She was sorry. She had enjoyed the meetings so much. The other members were pleasant company and she had learned a lot from Ted's expertise. Her only regret was not having a garden of her own on which to practise some of the new skills and tips that she had scribbled down in her notebook.

'Can I give you a lift home, Susan?' Ted stood at her side, winding a scarf round his neck. 'It's freezing outside tonight.'

She smiled up at him. 'Thank you. That would be lovely.'

They walked along the corridor together and out into the frosty night air. As they walked across the car park he turned to her.

'I don't suppose I'll see you again until after Christmas, so would you like to come for a festive drink with me?' His brow furrowed. 'Or perhaps you don't drink and you'd prefer a coffee?'

Susan laughed. 'I do drink moderately of course, but either would be nice. Thank you.'

They opted for the Coach and Horses, a comfortable pub almost next door to the college. Inside the lounge bar it was warm and comfortable, tasteful evergreens decorated the walls and there were red candles on every table. They chose a table near the log fire and Ted went to the bar for drinks, a pint of bitter for him and a gin and tonic for Susan. 'I got you ice and a slice,' he said as he joined her at the table. 'I hope that's all right.'

'Lovely. Thank you.' She raised her gla.s.s. 'Here's to a happy Christmas.'

Putting his gla.s.s down, he looked at her. 'So do you think you'll be joining us next term, or did you find it unutterably boring?'

'Oh, no!' Susan said quickly. 'I mean about it being boring. I was fascinated. It was so interesting. And yes to your first question; I'd love to sign up next term. My only complaint is that it's going to be so frustrating, not being able to try out all your useful tips and advice.'

He leaned towards her. 'I've been thinking about that,' he told her. 'My garden is quite small. Only really big enough for a lawn and a few flower beds, so I grow my own vegetables on an allotment. The chap next to me is giving his up in the New Year. How would you feel about applying to the Council to rent it?'

<script>