The Courting Campaign

‘Nothing at all? Then what are you going to do now?’

‘Go home and do a bit of gardening, probably. The desk looks happy here. It was a good choice. Goodnight, Mr Hazard.’

He looked at her in silence for a moment, something indefinably different in his manner. ‘Now we’ve established that I’m not the twins’ father and you’re not David Conway’s wife,’ he said at last, smiling crookedly, ‘would you consider staying for a while to share my supper with me?’

Hester, taken aback for a moment, looked at him thoughtfully. She found that she liked the idea. And there was no reason why she shouldn’t accept She went out with various male friends in Chastlecombe, in the purely platonic way that was all she had to offer. On the other hand, if she said yes to Patrick Hazard—who was, without doubt, the most interesting and attractive man she’d met since Richard—it was possible he might misunderstand the situation now he knew she was a widow. Others had before him, taking her attitude as a challenge.

‘You’re taking such a long time to decide,’ he said at last, a wry twist to his mouth, ‘I take it the answer’s no.’

Hester’s curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know more about this man, why he’d chosen to live here far away from the city lights she felt sure were his usual habitat, what he did for a living. She smiled and shook her head. ‘Thank you, I’d like to very much.’

‘Wonderful!’ The green eyes lit with a dazzling smile. ‘Then come this way, Mrs Conway. Let me show you my kitchen—which is the only place to eat, I’m afraid. Or would you like a tour of the house first?’

I would, very much. This is not a house I’ve ever heard of. I thought I knew most of the interesting places in the Chastlecombe area, but Long Wivutts came as a surprise.’

‘The name attracted me before I’d even seen the place.’ Patrick led the way across the hall into a sitting room with beautiful panelling, and triple-light latticed windows looking out over the tangled wilderness of the garden. ‘I’m told it comes from the size of stone tiles they use on the roofs round here. There are twenty-six sizes, would you believe? All of them with marvellous names like Middle Becks and Short Bachelors. They’re pretty difficult to replace now, apparently, though Wilf—the man who’s going to help me with the garden—has somehow acquired replacements from some derelict cottage.’ He grinned. ‘I had the feeling it wouldn’t be tactful to enquire about their provenance.’

Hester chuckled. ‘Very wise! This is a lovely room—just look at the size of that fireplace. With some chintz-covered sofas and a Persian carpet, maybe, plus a picture or two and some plain, heavy curtains... Sorry. You’ve probably got it all planned already.’

‘Not really. Any suggestions would be welcome.’ He led her out into the hall and into a room obviously meant for dining, and then beyond it to a little parlour at the back of the house, both of them as empty as the sitting room. Only the kitchen, which was so large it had obviously been two rooms at one time, was furnished. Late sunlight poured through the windows, washing over a plain round table and four balloonback Victorian chairs. A bowl of fruit, a basket of eggs and a large bread-crock sat on a counter which ran the length of gleaming oak-fronted cupboards—as new as the cooker and refrigerator, but so severely plain they blended harmoniously with the venerable stone flags underfoot.

‘This is perfect,’ said Hester with enthusiasm. ‘You’ve caught exactly the right note with the cupboards. Only, in winter I advise a rug or two on this floor—I speak from experience. Mine’s the same, and it can be very cold.’

‘I must confess the previous owners had got as far as doing up the kitchen and one of the bathrooms,’ he admitted. ‘I’d like any advice you have to spare. My sister, as must be obvious, isn’t at her best at the moment. And when the baby arrives she’ll have too much to do to have much time for me. She gave me the table and chairs—too small for Ashdown House. But she’s worried about not giving more of a helping hand here. I told her I’m big enough and old enough to look after myself. She’s older than me—still thinks of me as the little brother.’

Hester smiled. It was hard to imagine Patrick Hazard as a kid brother. ‘If you do need advice and I can supply it, I’ll be happy to. But, for the time being, if you’ll show me what you had in mind for a meal I’ll put it together—if you like.’

‘I just meant you to share the meal, not prepare it for me!’ he said swiftly.

‘Just tell me what you had in mind and I can make a start.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘I’m hungry. So if I lend a hand we’ll eat all the sooner.’

He bowed in defeat, then opened the refrigerator and took out the ingredients for a very respectable cold meal—salad greens, tomatoes, cheese, half a ham. He looked at her levelly. ‘You know, this is very good of you. I had expected to spend a solitary evening.’

So had Hester, who was more charmed by the prospect of dinner with Patrick Hazard than she cared to admit. And the informality of helping with the meal only added to the charm. While she set eggs to boil and washed salad greens her host laid the table, then took a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator.

‘I thought we might celebrate my first dinner guest with this,’ he announced.

Hester hesitated, then smiled ruefully. ‘Mr Hazard, I dislike wine of any kind. Vintage champagne would be utterly wasted on me.’

“Then we’ll drink something else,’ he said promptly. ‘But only if you call me Patrick.’

She nodded, smiling. ‘I’m Hester.’

‘I know.’

They looked at each other for a moment, then Hester took the pan of eggs from the hob and ran cold water over them at the sink. ‘I shall be perfectly happy with a glass of this, straight from the tap,’ she said over her shoulder.

‘Does your dislike of wine extend to alcohol in general?’

‘I enjoy a Pimm’s as a rare summer treat, and I keep brandy in the house for emergencies. But wine I really dislike.’ She looked up from peeling the eggs. ‘When I was a student I was afraid to admit it—bad for the image—so I drank it and suffered the consequences. I’m a bit wiser now.’

‘Which must be a generally held opinion locally since you were asked to be a magistrate.’ He took a loaf of bread from the crock and began slicing it. ‘Though you can’t have been on the bench for long.’

‘Just over a year now, but I still feel like a beginner. I did all the usual courses, naturally, and I shall go on doing others in the future. For legal instruction I rely on people like John Brigham—he’s the barrister who usually acts as clerk of the court.’ Hester halved the eggs and took out the yolks. ‘Are those handsome cupboards empty, or have you anything I can use to make a dressing and so on?’

Patrick Hazard’s store cupboards were surprisingly well-stocked. With hot pepper sauce to devil the eggs, and balsamic vinegar and olive oil to dress the salad, the meal they sat down to a little while later was simple, but very much to Hester’s taste. It was completed with a large, ice-filled goblet of bottled Cotswold spring water, which her host produced in preference to the alternative straight from the tap.

‘I got some of that in for Lydia,’ he said, pouring himself a beer. He raised his glass to her in toast. ‘To my unexpected but very welcome guest. I’m only sorry the dinner isn’t more in keeping with the occasion.’

Hester shook her head as she helped herself to ham. ‘This is exactly my kind of meal. I wouldn’t have done nearly as well at home. I tend to get tired by Saturday night. If I’m not going out I usually don’t bother too much about dinner.’

Patrick offered the basket of bread. ‘Hester, since circumstance has thrown us so unexpectedly together, I own to curiosity. Will you allow me to ask questions?’

She took a slice and buttered it thoughtfully. ‘About myself?’

‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll respond in kind, if you like. Fair?’

‘Fair,’ she agreed, equally curious to learn about Patrick. ‘What would you like to know?’

‘Anything you care to tell me. For a start, are you a native of Chastlecombe?’

‘No. If it hadn’t been for a certain baby I might never have come to the place, other than as a tourist. I got a job at Queens High School as a replacement for the history teacher while she was away on maternity leave.’ Hester drank some of her water. ‘Richard Conway was on the board of governors. He was in his early forties, and a confirmed bachelor. I was late twenties and, I thought, a career educationist. Wrong on both counts.’

She smiled crookedly. ‘We were married the day after the school closed for the summer holidays. And instead of applying for another teaching post I went into the business with Richard. David was still in college then. So I involved myself in the shop and the buying, leaving Richard free to do what he did best—create beautiful furniture.’

Patrick regarded her steadily, then leaned over to refill her glass. ‘What happened to him, Hester?’

‘He died of a sudden, massive heart attack while we were on holiday in France, celebrating our first anniversary.’

Patrick let out a deep breath. ‘Poor young bride,’ he said very quietly.

Hester looked away. ‘Afterwards Richard’s family were very good to me. They persuaded me to stay in the business, so I did.’

Patrick got up and took their plates, then returned with the fruit bowl and pushed the platter of cheese towards her.

Hester accepted a crisp green apple. ‘Your turn, then, Patrick. You’re a lawyer, of course?’

He nodded. ‘Guilty. How did you know?’

‘Your bow to the bench was a bit of a giveaway.’

‘Reflex action. Though I’ve retired from actually practising law.’

‘Retired?’ She eyed him curiously. ‘Aren’t you a bit young for that?’

‘I’ve taken up another career,’ he said blandly. ‘But I used to be a city lawyer, working in the London office of a New York-based firm, earning a quite outrageous salary. UK law governs project and corporate deals in Europe and Asia, and global-minded American law firms tend to hire UK lawyers to stay on top of the competition. And as the icing on the cake I shared a flat with the gorgeous Alicia, who earned a six-figure salary in advertising.’

Hester listened in awe. It all sounded a long way from the laid-back lifestyle of Chastlecombe.