Page 27 of Boomerville at Ballymegille

He settled back in his chair and contemplated another beer. A waiter appeared and picked up Bill’s glass. As he ordered, Bill knew that his mother would be turning in her grave and, feeling cocky, he asked for a whisky chaser too. Bill nibbled a handful of nuts and noted that the gardener had finished the lawn and, as he manoeuvred his machine over the path, two dogs bounced into the garden and began to play with the collie.

Like a dog’s home! What are you doing there?You should be taking care of the villa!Dirty animals, keep well away!

Melissa stood at the top of the steps. She held Teddy’s little harness and trotted down the treads to exchange a word with the gardener.

Fascinated, Bill ignored his mother’s voice.

Melissa’s hair was loose and, silhouetted by the sunshine, shone like a halo. She wore a close-fitting shirt and blue jeans with a sweater knotted around her waist. Bill had never studied a female form but he could see an air of fragility around Melissa, as though she might break. He was spellbound and remembered her touch when she’d rescued Teddy from his lap.

‘Ah, there you are.’ Hattie came into the room. She strolled over to the door and closed it. ‘Don’t want you catching a chill before the big night.’

Bill glared at Hattie and wondered what the hell she wanted now.

‘Feeling nervous?’ Hattie carried Bill’s drink. ‘Don’t worry, the quiz won’t be hard.’

‘I’m not nervous!’

‘I’m sure you’ll get some of the questions right,’ Hattie continued, as she straightened the papers and tidied the table.

Bill wanted to pour his beer over Hattie’s head. The stupid woman had no idea he was a quiz champion in his local area and had scores of trophies in a cupboard at home. He picked up the whisky and knocked it back.

‘Aye, a bit of Dutch courage, good idea,’ Hattie said. ‘See you at six-thirty sharp.’

‘Old bag,’ Bill mumbled as Hattie left the room. ‘I’ll show you!’

11

Hattie looked at the crowd of guests assembled in the Red Room and wondered if the pub was ready to be bombarded by the Boomerville Brains, who were now overflowing into the hallway as the room filled up. She knew that a quiz team consisted of five members and looking at this lot, told herself that they could make up at least six teams. She hoped there was room in the pub and having made an earlier call, had given the landlord the heads up. Delighted for the increase in trade, he’d assured Hattie that all would be in order.

‘Let’s have a bit of hush!’ Hattie called out and bashed a dinner bell on the hall table. The loud gong quietened the crowd.

‘Now it might be a bit of a squeeze in the pub,’ Hattie said, ‘but I’m assured that we’ll all be made welcome and I think it would be an idea before we head over, to get yourselves in teams and appoint a captain.’ She glanced at Bill and took his arm. ‘If anyone has any questions, we have an expert in our midst; Captain Bill Bradbury is the overall representative of the Boomerville Brains.’

Bill snatched his arm away. He had to stop himself from slapping Hattie but the buzz of the quiz was getting to him and, boosted by the whisky, Bill was feeling confident in familiar territory. He soon formed his own team, Boomerville Brains One, and began to discuss tactics.

Teams consisting of Boomerville Two, Three, Four and Five also took shape, with captains appointed.

‘All set?’ Hattie called out and, waving a wide brimmed hat, summoned everyone to follow her out of the hotel to the pub.

It was an assorted crowd who stopped the traffic and crossed the road. The Boomerville Babes had formed Team Two and Audrey was their captain. They wore their flowered rubber hats and strode confidently behind Bill’s Team One. Melissa, who’d decided to come out of her room and give the quiz night a go, was amazed to find that she had been chosen as captain for Team Three which consisted of cookery students from a biscuit-making class, wearing tall chefs’ hats. Alf had been dragged out of his potting shed by Hattie and told to captain Team Four and he led a confused group of guests, many with twigs in their hair, who’d spent the afternoon in the tepee with the Shaman. Bringing up the rear was Harry, off duty and dressed casually in jeans. His team included Biddu and his wife and sons from the Bengal Balti. They looked resplendent in traditional Indian robes and had arrived with a huge pot of curry, which Hattie had laid on as a post-quiz supper.

Hattie held the door as the quizzers trooped in and made themselves comfortable in the crowded pub. ‘Another successful evening,’ Hattie said with a smile and went to find the landlord, who would be supplying her throughout the evening with drinks on the house.

* * *

Far from therolling fells of Cumbria, across the Irish sea, Jo wandered around the grounds at Flatterley Manor, where the damp garden appeared as sorrowful as Jo’s mood.

The previous evening, sitting at the kitchen table with James, she’d heard how Hilary, Long Tom’s wife, had loved to potter and plant. As James served a simple meal of steamed mussels, salad and soda bread, he’d explained that Hilary had spent a considerable amount of her time and copious amounts of her husband’s money on the garden. It was clear to everyone but Long Tom that Hilary had more than a passing interest in the head gardener. Jo had listened to James recount tales of Hilary’s infidelities and wondered if Long Tom had been upset when he found out. She felt a wave of sympathy.

Deceit cut deep, as she well knew.

The mussels were delicious and she was surprised that she’d finished the lot. She didn’t think she had any appetite but James was skilled in the kitchen and the meal had been perfect. As she’d carried their plates to the sink, Jo asked, ‘What happened to Hilary?’

‘She ran off with the gardener,’ James said and began to rinse the dishes. ‘They moved to her home in Kensington and she became his agent. He made a name for himself as a gardening expert on internet TV.’

The memory of this conversation tumbled through Jo’s mind as she stood by the edge of the ornamental lake. Weeds choked the side of the banks and, as if reflecting her feelings, the water looked muddy and grim. Jo wondered if Hilary was happy. Had her affair with the gardener worked out? Would Pete’s affair with Amanda work out too? Jo’s vision blurred and tears fell as she remembered her text with Pete that morning. He’d made it clear that there was no going back.

He was in love with Amanda.

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