Page 55 of Pressure Head
I was momentarily floored. Did she meantogethertogether, or just together?
“Um, we’re, um . . .” I managed.
“No,” Phil said flatly and walked away. It felt like he’d slapped me in the face.
“Well, he wasn’t very friendly, was he?” It was delivered in high, ringing old-lady tones, which had to have been heard by half the congregation and must have left Phil’s ears burning. I was glad he couldn’t see my smile.
“Maybe he’s just not a morning person,” I suggested. “Thanks for the welcome. I’m Tom, by the way, and yeah, it’s my first time here. Nice church—those flowers are lovely.” I nodded at a big, fancy spray of red and white blooms and greenery that’d almost taken my eye out a couple of minutes ago.
Her crepey cheeks bloomed with a rosy glow. “Thank you! I do my best with them, but of course, it isn’t easy in the winter. I’m Edith Penrose, but please, call me Edie.”
“Lovely to meet you, Edie. Would that be Miss or Mrs.?”
“Mrs., you cheeky young man, although I lost my dear Albert twenty years ago. He’s out by the lychgate. I’ll be paying him a visit after I’ve finished my coffee.”
Just as I was wondering if she was going to invite me along to say hi to the late Mr. P., and if she’d be expecting him to say hi back, a familiar voice battered my eardrums from around three inches away. “Tom! Darling, what on earth areyoudoing here?”
I turned to see Gary beaming at me. “Came to hear the church-bell concerto, didn’t I?”
“I hope you haven’t been leading our Edie astray. Watch him, Edie, he’s a total heathen. And theworstflirt.”
She gave me a roguish smile. “I might have known you’d turn out to be afriend of Gary’s.” She made it sound like a euphemism. “Well, it was lovely meeting you—I do hope we’ll see you here again soon.” As she twittered off, I could just make out a sigh, and the words, “Such a waste.”
“Hey, I’m not a flirt,” I protested.
“And I’m the Pope, sweetie. Now, why are youreallyhere?”
I sighed. “It’s complicated. Phil’s here too, by the way.”
As I’d thought, that got Gary’s attention off difficult questions right away. “Ooh, where? Where is he? Tall, blond . . .” He scanned the coffee crowd feverishly.
“By the door, about to bugger off.”
Gary looked, just as Phil half turned, displaying a firm-jawed (some might say gittishly stubborn) profile. “Oh, myGod! Is that him? He isgorgeous! No wonder you’re such a mess about the whole thing.”
“I’m not a mess!” Anyone would think I was a love-sick schoolgirl, the way Gary was going on about it.
“Don’t argue with your uncle Gary. Now, have you finished your coffee? Good. Let’s get out of this crush before Merry signs you up for choir practice.”
“Not much chance of that,” I muttered darkly.
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a lot you’re not telling me?” Gary asked, shepherding me past the milling faithful like a little lost lamb. We emerged blinking into the sunlight, which gave me a good excuse to pretend I hadn’t seen the Rev. He was waiting at the door to moisten everyone’s palms, a sort of final baptism before they headed out into the wicked world again. “Now, I wonder . . . Ooh, there he is!” He waved frantically, and I saw, with a sinking feeling, that Darren was here. He was leaning on a tombstone, but as I watched, he pushed himself off it and started ambling towards us. “He said he might come, if he wasn’t too tired after last night.”
“Thought you and him were getting an early night?” I said, a bit distracted. I should have known, really I should.
Gary’s elbow impacted sharply with my ribs. “Oh, but wedid. Very early. Andveryexhausting!” He giggled.
Darren caught up with us. “Oi. I thought I told you to stay away from my bloke,” he said, but he was smiling, so it looked like my nadgers would live to nadge another day.
“Want to tell me exactly what you think we might have got up toin church?”
He gave me a look. “Ah, but how do I know you were in church? You can get up to all sorts in that belfry of Gary’s.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I told him.
“Of course he wouldn’t, Sweetie Pie,” Gary put in. “I’ve neverhadTom up in my belfry.”
“You’ve had me up there, though, haven’t you, Pumpkin?” Darren gave a filthy laugh. “Several times, now.”
