Chapter Nineteen #3
‘Well it’s like keyhole surgery for humans.
Instead of an incision and cutting through layers of tissue, which has to be stitched up afterwards and takes days or weeks to recover, this is one small hole.
You try explaining to a dog that they can’t move or pull at the stitches.
This makes things much easier for them.’
When they returned and towelled off the two dogs, they found Bets waiting for them in the newly painted kitchen and the air full of the scent of spices.
‘That smells good,’ groaned Devon in appreciation.
‘Bhajis. Chicken tikka.’ Bets rummaged in the brown paper bag, pulling little plastic tubs out with the aplomb of a magician pulling rabbits from a hat.
‘Bombay potato. Sag aloo. Chicken balti. Ella, would you mind grabbing some plates from that cupboard next to the cooker? Devon, you’re on drinks. Beer and wine in the fridge.’
Ella sank gratefully into the sofa with a loaded plate on her knees. The only sound in the room was the chink of forks on the plates and the odd moan of satisfied greed.
‘This is delicious,’ she said, finishing off the last mouthful, her stomach heavy and full.
The sofa was so comfortable she could have happily curled up and snoozed right there.
She couldn’t remember an evening like it since she’d left college.
Devon and Bets were easy, undemanding company.
They chatted idly about the village, the dogs, the best walks and the forthcoming village fete.
Bets wasn’t going to let go of her idea of playing Trivial Pursuit. Ella caught Devon’s eye as she busied herself setting up the board. It felt like they were indulgent parents giving in to a child that need humouring.
‘Right, who’s the oldest between you two?’
‘Bets, you’re the youngest, you can go first and then we can go round clockwise. I’m not going to embarrass a lady by asking her age. It’s just not what a gentleman does.’
Bets snorted rudely. ‘Gentleman! Huh!’ But she threw the dice pretty promptly before any further argument. ‘Five. I’ll go for yellow. That’s History, isn’t it?’
‘How many old pennies were there in a shilling?’ Devon read the card.
‘What?’ Bets groaned. ‘That’s impossible.’
‘Dad would know it.’ Devon offered.
‘Thanks, that’s no help.’
‘Make a guess,’ suggested Ella, who had no idea. ‘Think of old weights and measures. They were all funny amounts.’
‘You’re not supposed to give her clues.’ Devon pulled a face at her.
‘Twelve,’ said Bets.
Devon glared at Ella. ‘See.’
‘How was that a clue? I was trying to get Bets to think laterally.’
‘It was a clue because there are twelve inches in a foot,’ crowed Bets, wriggling in her seat with a smug shoulder shimmy.
‘Oops,’ said Ella, shooting Devon a mischievous grin. ‘But she could have gone for the number of ounces in a pound.’
‘I would if I knew.’
They carried on playing and when Ella and Devon were level, with almost a full pie of pieces each, Ella felt her head start to droop. Thankfully the game was nearly over.
Bets threw again and landed on an orange square. ‘Blast. I’m rubbish at sport. Jack normally answers these ones.’ Her track record this evening suggested she wasn’t much better at history, science, art and literature or geography.
Devon read the card. ‘Yeah, I think you might need to phone a friend on this one. Who was the first simultaneous holder of the Masters, Open, US Open and PGA titles?’
‘What?’ She stuck her chin out and scrunched up her face, looking like a recalcitrant toddler.
‘I’m going to have to hurry you for an answer.’
‘I have no idea. Andre Agassi.’
‘No! That’s tennis, you numpty. The Masters is golf.’
‘Well, how was I supposed to know that?’
Devon shook his head and threw the dice. ‘Science, green.’
Bets pulled out a card. ‘I don’t flipping believe it. What items of cricket equipment share their name with mammals that fly? Well, that’s a tricky one.’
‘Bat?’ Devon didn’t even try to hide his glee.
‘I think you should have another one because that was too easy.’ Bets grumbled.
He threw again this time, landing on a brown one. ‘Art and Lit. I hate these. Will you be my phone a friend?’ he asked Ella.
She looked pointedly at her piece and his. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Which artist had a blue period?’
‘What, was he depressed?’ asked Devon.
‘There were plenty of those,’ quipped Ella.
‘I bet you know this one, don’t you?’
‘I could hazard a guess,’ hedged Ella with a smug grin.
‘Do you know, you two ought to go on a quiz team together,’ Bets suddenly said. ‘You’d be brilliant. There’s that one at the Old Boot in Tring. Ella could do the brown, pink and yellow and you could the blue, green and orange.’
‘And I can do the brown, too,’ said Devon with a sudden triumphant grin. ‘Picasso.’
‘Oh bugger, he’s right.’
Devon threw the dice again.
‘Blue. What river shares its name with a Teletubby?’
‘That’s not a real question,’ howled Devon, trying to snatch the card from Bets.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Oh God, I don’t know their names. Handbag one, smiley one, short fat red one and the other one.’
‘I’ll have to hurry you.’
Devon glared. ‘Orinoco.’
‘No, that’s a Womble.’
Ella threw the dice quickly. ‘Art and Lit, brown please.’
Bets groaned again. ‘What aged while Dorian Gray stayed young?’
Ella laughed. ‘A portrait in the attic.’
‘Ah, not quite correct. It says his portrait.’ She held the card up with a teasing smirk on her face. ‘So not any old portrait. I’m not sure I can give you this one.’
Ella raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to play dirty?’
‘Hell, yeah.’ Bets grinned.
‘Bring it on,’ replied Ella.
‘Oh Lord, spare me, are you two going to get all competitive over the last piece of pie?’
‘Of course,’ Ella winked at Bets. ‘To the death.’
‘As you almost got that one right, you can throw again,’ said Bets magnanimously, with a regal nod which was spoilt by the sudden dimples that appeared in her cheek.
‘Pink,’ said Ella as she counted out three places. ‘What subject’s that?’
‘Entertainment,’ said Devon.
‘Which rock ’n’ roller introduced the duck walk?’ asked Bets immediately flipping the card over to check the answer. ‘Hmm, never knew that.’
Ella knew that tactic. Bets was trying to put her off. She had no idea but she wasn’t going down without a fight. ‘Duckbill Hailey.’
Bets sniggered.
‘Chick Berry,’ suggested Devon.
‘Quacky Wilson,’ Ella added.
‘Bo Paddley.’
By this time they were all laughing so hard, the game was abandoned.
As Ella walked back to the house, Tess padding beside her, she smiled before wincing.
She’d laughed so much today she’d pulled something in her side but she was still smiling now.
She couldn’t remember when she had so much fun and she’d been to some much more supposedly fun, sophisticated events in her time.
She also had a sneaking suspicion Bets was attempting a bit of matchmaking.