Page 13 of The Farmer Has a Wife

Indi stared at her like she was contemplating smacking her upside the head with a bar towel. “Oh yes, because nothing says practical like marrying a posh lady you crashed into two days ago. I’m assuming this is her?”

Eleanor, who was quickly figuring out that maintaining her dignity in this situation was going to be an uphill battle, cleared her throat. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. Perfectly legal.”

Indi squinted at both of them and then sighed. “You two are insane. Fine. I know that Danni won’t listen to sense, and I’m assuming your Ladyship won’t either. I suppose it’s a secret?”

“Maybe,” said Danni, looking a bit unsure.

“Then my lips are sealed for the moment.” A wide grin spread across Indi’s face. “As long as I get to be there when you tell Hector.”

“That’s a terrible condition,” Danni groaned.

“It’s my price, take it or leave it,” said Indi. She put the glass of wine down in front of Eleanor. “It’s a Grafenraben Cru d’Alsace Riesling from the Domaine Bott-Geyl,” she said. “Very drinkable, saline notes with hints of stone fruits.”

Eleanor gaped at her.

“It’s not the fifties,” Indi said defensively. “We’ve got a wine cellar. Quite a decent one, actually.” She waltzed off, Eleanor still gaping.

Danni reached over and pulled Eleanor’s beer over to her side of the table. “I get it,” she said. “Strictly business. Cold. Emotionless. Purely transactional. Sounds delightful.”

“Hector?” Eleanor asked, finally finding her voice. She took amouthful of the wine and it was, as Indi had said, extremely drinkable. Very good, in fact.

“My brother,” said Danni. “He runs the farm up the hill from mine. The big one. You must have seen it driving up to my house.”

Eleanor nodded. “Any further family?”

“Just my mum left,” said Danni. “She and I… it’s complicated.” She took a couple of gulps of her pint. “What about you?”

“Grandmother,” Eleanor said.

“Oh. Um…”

Eleanor sighed. She supposed that they would have to know at least the bare minimum about each other. Just in case it came up. Just in case a nosy lawyer or someone came asking questions. “I’m an only child. My parents went down in a plane crash. I was three. Somewhere over the Thai jungle or something.”

Danni considered this but didn’t say anything, for which Eleanor was grateful. She was particularly grateful that Danni didn’t say sorry, which was what most people said, and it had always struck Eleanor as foolish. What would they be sorry for? She wasn’t sorry. She barely remembered them. From all she’d heard, she’d been better off with her grandmother. Hippies, the both of them, her grandfather had used to say.

Feeling as if she’d briefly lost control of the conversation, Eleanor cleared her throat again. “Back to the matter at hand. We shall, as you say, maintain appearances for legal reasons. Occasional public outings, as you suggest. I’ll add to that a Christmas card, perhaps an occasional shared dinner if absolutely necessary.”

With a glint in her eye, Danni leaned back in her chair, watching Eleanor. “You know, for someone who insists that this is strictly business, you’re putting a lot of effort into making it sound like a marriage.”

For a moment, Eleanor felt a fluttering in her stomach as Danni looked at her. She ignored it. This was business. Nothing more.

She tapped her pen against her notebook. “Very well. I’ll takecare of the legal details and we’ll get to the registry office as soon as they can squeeze us in.”

“Cool,” said Danni. “But I have to ask, are you going to propose properly, or what?”

Eleanor, momentarily caught off guard, opened her mouth, nearly responding in earnest before she saw the glint of mischief in Danni’s eyes.

“Kidding,” Danni smirked, picking up her pint and draining it before pulling Eleanor’s closer to her. “Unless, of course, you want to get down on one knee, Lady Eleanor? Do things properly?”

Eleanor scowled and stood up. “Goodnight, Danielle.”

“Serious names, is it?” Danni laughed. “Go on then. I suppose I’ll see you at the altar.”

Eleanor was all the way out into the sunny afternoon before she realized that Danni was probably right. The next time they saw each other would be at the altar. Well, the registry office desk, she supposed.

Chapter Seven

The registry office smelled faintly of disinfectant and bureaucracy. The chairs were the kind that made one’s back ache after thirty seconds, the beige walls were adorned with posters about civil ceremonies and legal name changes, and the lighting was just harsh enough to ensure that no one looked particularly attractive.

---