Meanwhile, in their weekend cottage, Pam Pointon continued to get noisily pissed.
At a Ladies’ Night of the local Rotary Club, Barry Stillwell met the widow of another past president. Since they both found life very interesting, they decided to get married.
§
It was a couple of weeks after her abduction, and Carole was sitting in the Crown and Anchor having an early evening drink with Jude. Carole had noticed her friend seemed a little subdued recently and deduced that the change of mood had something to do with the man Jude had spent the weekend with in London. But when she tried to find out more about the situation, the conversation kept doing its old trick of moving on to other subjects.
“You going to be all right this evening?”
“Yes, sure,” said Jude. “I’ll probably grab something to eat here, and then go back for a really long soak in the bath.”
“With all your aromatherapy oils?”
As usual, Carole had no idea what was going through her friend’s mind. Her own was happily full, particularly of the new blouse she was wearing that night. Marks & Spencer’s were getting in some quite designery things these days. Carole wouldn’t have thought she could wear red, if she hadn’t been so firmly told that it made her look great.
The door from the kitchen clattered open and Tfed Crisp appeared. He was wearing a suit. Not only that, it was a suit he had had cleaned. And he was wearing the tie Carole had given him.
His hair and beard remained as unkempt as ever, which caused her a momentary pang of annoyance. But she quickly reassured herself. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Time enough to get his hair—and a few other things—sorted.
Jude let out a low whistle. “My God, it’s Rudolph Valentine!”
“Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer more like,” said Ted.
Then he stepped round the bar and crooked out his arm in a self-consciously gallant manner.
“Thank you,” said Carole, dropping a mock-curtsy before she took his arm.
“Where is it you’re off to tonight?” asked Jude.
“New Mexican place just opened in Worthing,” Ted replied. “Won’t be able to move in there for sombreros and zimmer frames. Are we set then, Carole?”
“Certainly are.”
“Right. Good luck,” he called out to his bar staff. “Don’t drink all the profits. See you, Jude.”
“Yes, sure,” she said, and looked down into her drink.
§
THE END