Chapter 28

Becca was determined that Sunday lunch was going to be a success. She spent a long time at the butcher's choosing topside of beef. Roast potatoes were naturally on the menu. She havered for a long while over greens finally deciding on Brussels sprouts plus cauliflower in a white sauce. Pudding was difficult. There was virtually no fruit at that time of year and she did not want to produce something heavy or stodgy. She did manage to find some cooking apples and decided an apple crumble. She lashed out and bought some double cream to go with it.

She started preparations immediately after breakfast the next morning and then, when they were complete with ample time to spare, she dusted and vacuumed the sitting room and dining room. She laid the dining table inspecting the silver rigorously for tarnish and polishing the glasses. She took Steven coffee at eleven and badgered him to open a bottle of red wine so that it could breathe. He was quietly amused at the intense preparations but played along with her and decanted the wine for her pointing out that she would have to wash and dry the decanter afterwards, the latter always being time consuming. She shrugged that off dismissively.

At twelve she went to change when she spent a good ten minutes dithering over whether what she had planned to wear was right. In the end she stuck to what she had originally chosen: a calf length tartan skirt with a beige jersey. She wore a brooch that Steven had given her for Christmas.

Edward, very properly, arrived at twenty to one by which time Becca was flapping. Steven noticed but said nothing. When the doorbell rang she hung back, suddenly very busy in the kitchen. Smiling inwardly Steven answered the door.

"Hello," he said. "You can only be Edward Johnson. We're not expecting anyone else. I'm Steven Hardacre.

"How do you do, sir? I am indeed."

They shook hands and Edward came in. Becca, having primped her hair, came running from the kitchen and then stopped shyly.

"Hello, Edward," she said and then was lost for words.

Edward was too. He just held out two hands to her which she grasped. His power of speech returned.

"Hello, Becca." He squeezed her hands gently. "You look very pretty."

Becca smiled at him. "Thank you." It was little more than a whisper.

Steven felt it was the moment to take charge. "Drinks!" he said commandingly. "What would you like, Edward? Beer? Gin? I think I've even got some sherry."

"Beer, please sir."

"Done! Miss? Ginger pop?"

"Please, Uncle Steven."

Becca released one of Edward's hands and led him to the sitting room.

"I'm so glad you've come," she said.

"You did ask me."

"Yes, I know," she giggled shyly and quite unlike her. "It was just that you didn't arrive on the dot of half past twelve."

Edward's heart filled. "I was just being polite," he said gently. "Given the chance, I'd have been here a lot earlier."

"Oh, Edward, don't tease me."

"I'm not teasing, just being honest."

Becca, for the first time in her life, was lost for words and did not know where to look. She was saved by Steven coming in with the drinks.

"Here we are," he said cheerfully. "I don't know which you prefer for drinking beer, Edward, a mug or a glass so I've brought one of each and you can take your pick."

"I'm not sure I've ever thought about it but I'll take the mug if I may."

"You've picked the right one. If anything I prefer a glass."

"The soul of tact," murmured Becca with a grin as her senses returned to normal.

"I know which firm of solicitors you're with," went on Steven, "but who are you articled to?"

"David Moorehead."

"Nice man and a very professional solicitor."

"I certainly like him. He's very amusing but, as far as I can make out, he never misses a trick."

"You're right. I've had a number of clients who have used him and he goes through the evidence we provide with a fine tooth comb. It can be embarrassing."

"How long will you be articled?" asked Becca, slightly ashamed that she had not asked before.

"Two years."

"And then?"

"I'm not entirely sure. My plot is to join a firm at Church Stretton but it will depend whether they have a vacancy. The senior partner is due to retire about then but whether he will or not remains to be seen. I doubt there will be a vacancy here so I may have to job hunt."

"Golly," said Becca. "I've never really given it any thought before but I always sort of assumed that solicitors just joined whichever firm they wanted to and when but I can see that they can't."

"No, unfortunately. I got a good degree and I hope to get a decent reference from David Moorehead but that does not guarantee me a job with a small country firm."

"I'd offer you a job as a painter and decorator but I'm not sure it would be very proper," she giggled.

"I'm very sure," laughed Edward. "I'd never get any work done with all those girls seeking my undivided attention."

"Rubbish! It'd be the other way round. They're much prettier than you."

There was laughter all round and everything went smoothly and happily after that. Both men were very complimentary abut Becca's cooking and insisted on helping with the washing up afterwards. The combination of beer, wine and a large lunch made them both feel sleepy but Becca was having none of it and insisted on at least Edward walking it off with her.

They set off down the road. "It's only about half a mile," said Becca, "then we can cut off across the fields and do a circuit."

"And how big's the circuit?"

"No idea. We'll be out for about an hour."

"Bully!" he replied taking her hand and smiling at her. She smiled happily back and bumped him with her shoulder.

"Yup!"

"Have you ever been to a skittle alley?"

"No."

"I used to do it at Cambridge. It's fun. I gather there's one down the Kirkby Road. Would you like to give it a try one evening?"

"Love to."

"Good. We can go to our favourite pub afterwards."

"Better still. When?"