supper.
Later, after Caesar salad and cherry tart bought earlier, Sarah took a stroll in the gardens before tackling a small mountain of ironing. At last, feeling pleasantly tired, she had just stretched out on the sofa to watch television when Alex rang.
‘Hi,’ she said, quite shaken by her delight at the sound of his voice. ‘How’s life in the big city?’
‘Noisy. I miss the green and pleasant land of Herefordshire. What have you been doing today?’
‘Cleaning, shopping—nothing much. How about you?’
‘Meetings and more meetings.’ Alex yawned. ‘Sorry. Any progress on the barns?’
‘The survey is booked for first thing in the morning, and the inspector promised to ring me with the result before sending me a written report.’ She sighed. ‘I’m an impatient soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of a whole weekend without any news.’
Alex chuckled. ‘So what will you do the moment you hear? Rush over to Westhope and press a cheque into Bob Grover’s hand?’
‘I shall conduct the sale in my usual businesslike manner.’
‘Of which I have experience. You drove a hard bargain over the cottages.’
‘Oh, come on, admit it. You got a really good deal there.’
‘Fair, maybe, but I draw the line at really good! Now let’s change the subject. Things have gone better today than expected, which means I’ll be back on Saturday morning. Can you make it over to my place in time for dinner?’
‘Instead of lunch on Sunday?’
‘As well as, not instead of. Don’t worry,’ he added. ‘I’ll let you go home in between.’
‘An offer I can’t refuse.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Then I won’t.’
‘Won’t come?’
‘Won’t refuse.’
‘Seven sharp, then,’ he said after a pause. ‘Don’t be late.’
Sarah went for a long walk next morning, while the inspection was taking place at Westhope Farm. But the phone in her pocket remained obstinately silent as she strolled through intersecting lanes she’d never had the time—or energy—to explore when she was working on the cottages. Eventually her route brought her back past the Post Office Stores. She bought a newspaper and bread and milk, chatted for a while with the owners, then started back at a leisurely pace. She was at home before her phone finally rang.
‘Mark Prentiss here, Miss Carver.’
Her heart leapt. ‘Hi, Mr Prentiss. Thank you so much for ringing. Don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the verdict?’
‘Good. I did an inspection for Mr Grover in the first place,’ he explained, ‘so it was merely a case of checking my own work, with a few extras from your point of view. I’ll get an official report sent off to you this afternoon.’
Sarah thanked him profusely, then rang Harry. ‘We’re on,’ she said jubilantly. ‘Once I get the written report I’ll get my solicitor on board, then apply for the usual permits and it’s all systems go. When can we pop over to see Mr Grover?’
‘Now, if you like,’ said Harry, and chuckled. ‘Might as well give Bob and Mavis a happy weekend. I’ll give them a ring, then come round to get you.’
After her long walk in the morning, topped by her euphoria over the inspection, and then Mavis Grover’s vast high tea washed down with parsnip wine, Sarah fell asleep on the drive back, and came to with a start when Harry turned into the courtyard of Medlar House.
‘Sorry, Harry,’ she said with contrition.
‘Too much excitement,’ he said, helping her down. ‘Watch your step. Mavis’s wine is powerful stuff.’
‘Tell me about it!’ Sarah swayed on her feet as the cool evening air hit her. ‘Wow. I couldn’t refuse it because you were driving, but I hope I don’t have a hangover tomorrow.’
‘Drink a lot of water and a few cups of tea and you’ll be fine,’ he told her. ‘Best get to bed early.’
Sarah nodded, then clutched her head, wishing she hadn’t. ‘Thank you, Harry. Talking of tea, can I make you some before you go?’
‘No, thanks. I’m off down the pub for a game of cribbage with Fred.’
‘You can mention the barns to him on the quiet, if you like. And bring Ian round for a chat about the job as soon as Mr Selby has everything legally sorted. I think your sister was very pleased,’ she added, smiling.
‘Pleased?’ Harry gave a snort of laughter. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting she’s taking a glass or two more of her parsnip wine right now. Bob, sensible chap, sticks to beer.’
‘You think they were satisfied with my offer?’
‘More than satisfied,’ he assured her, and jingled his car keys. ‘It was a really nice thought to buy that teddy bear for the baby, boss.’
‘I had fun choosing it, Harry. Enjoy your game.’
Her house phone was ringing when Sarah let herself into the flat.
‘Hi,’ said Alex.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said in relief.
‘Yes, me. Disappointed?’
‘Quite the reverse.’ She’d been afraid it was Dan Mason. ‘But normally you ring me on my mobile.’
‘I tried. No luck.’
‘I left my phone behind when I went to Westhope. Wish me luck, Alex. I just climbed on the second rung of the property ladder.’
‘Congratulations! We’ll celebrate tomorrow night.’ He sighed. ‘I would have come back tonight and called in on you, but I’m dining—reluctantly—in the bosom of my family. My father was so insistent I gave in for once.’
‘Think of the filial glow you’ll bask in!’
‘I’d rather think of tomorrow evening with my new best friend.’
‘I thought Stephen Hicks was your best friend.’
‘He is. But you have a big advantage over him.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You’re a girl.’
‘Tut-tut, you can’t say that these days, Mr Merrick. I’m a woman,’ Sarah chastised.
‘That too. Though it’s hard to believe when you’re wearing those overalls.’
‘How you do harp on about them. Anyway,
