Chapter Thirty-Five
‘So, um’ – I twirled the stem of my glass – ‘if you don’t mind me asking, Dylan–’
The waitress reappeared, instantly blocking our view of each other as she set down our plates.
‘Any sauces? Drinks?’ she asked.
‘I wouldn’t mind an Americano, but there’s no rush. I still have my Prosecco,’ I added.
‘A cappuccino for me,’ said Dylan.
‘I’ll give you both ten minutes,’ said the waitress. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Perfect,’ I agreed.
She turned and, as she did so, Dylan came back into view.
‘You were saying, Maggie?’ he prompted.
‘Er, yes.Jill.’
‘What about her?’ Dylan picked up his knife and fork. ‘This looks delicious by the way.’
‘Yes, it does.’ Stuff the bacon and eggs. I was a little disappointed that Dylan hadn’t taken the initiative in explaining who Jill was. I’d have preferred not to ask. But ask I must. I took a deep breath.
‘Where is she this morning?’ I ventured.
He frowned.
‘She said something about outstanding chores yesterday. The weekly shop, I think. Yes’ – he nodded – ‘she’s likely at the supermarket.’
Right.
‘And, she didn’t mind you coming out with me instead of going with her and, er, lending a hand?’
‘No,’ he said, then popped some sausage in his mouth.
‘That’s very generous of her,’ I said.
I stabbed a sunshine-yellow yolk with my fork. What was this? Some sort of open relationship?
Jill: I’m off now, darling. Shopping to do.
Dylan: Okay, sweetie-pie. I’ll be out with Maggie.
Jill: (chuckling naughtily) Don’t forget to tell her about me.
Dylan: I will. Meanwhile, have fun flirting with Steve the shelf stacker.
Jill: Ha! He’s usually in the fruit aisle and stares at my melons.
Dylan forked up some baked beans.
‘I much prefer to do my shopping online,’ he said. ‘Don’t you?’
I frowned.
‘Sometimes. But – forgive me, I’m confused – why didn’t you do the shopping online and spare Jill a trip to the supermarket?’
Dylan stopped cutting up a tomato. He looked at me.
‘Wait… are you thinking that Jill is…’
He trailed off. Regarded me. I had my head on one side. In that moment I felt a bit like Bess when she was trying to work something out. I met Dylan’s eyes. No, I wasn’t going to look away. Nor was I going to finish his sentence. I continued to wait patiently. Now I knew how Bess felt when anticipating a juicy treat. In this case I was waiting for the juicy revelation of who this woman was.
Dylan shook his head imperceptibly.
‘Jill is Jennifer’s sister,’ he said.
I carried on looking at him, none the wiser.
‘Jennifer?’ I repeated. Who the heck was Jennifer?
‘Jennifer is… was… my wife.’