Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Hello, Milo,’ said Linda, beaming away.
Her delight at seeing the man who was my nemesis was evident – from the coy twiddling of a strand of hair, to the red blush travelling up her neck. She looked like a boiler that was about to self-combust.
Quickly, I turned away, letting my hair fall across my face. I busied myself with my pockets, supposedly seeking loose change.
‘Morning, Linda,’ said Milo cheerfully. He came over. ‘How are you today?’
‘All the better for seeing you,’ she simpered. The hair twiddling went into overdrive.
‘Likewise,’ Milo winked. ‘But don’t tell your Hugo that. I don’t want him coming after me with his shotgun.’
Oh per-leeze . Any minute now, I’d have to grab one of Linda’s paper bags and heave into it.
‘I have some gossip for you,’ said Linda to Milo.
‘Ooh, I do love a bit of gossip,’ he said, adopting a camp tone.
‘The lovely Tilly here was hoping to buy Starlight Cottage. Apparently, you pipped her to it.’
It was at that point that Milo looked properly at the woman who, up until then, had presented him with her back. I swung round.
‘Oh, hi,’ I said. The coolness in my tone was colder than Linda’s chiller cabinet.
‘Ah, we meet again,’ said Milo.
Linda frowned.
‘Do you two know each other?’
Milo made a see-saw gesture with one hand. I butted in, before he could expand.
‘We’ve run into each other here and there,’ I explained.
‘ Run into being an accurate description,’ Milo added. He peered at the contents of my shopping basket. ‘Oh, what have we here? Mm, caramel biscuits. Do tell. Are they of the toffee-nosed variety?’
Linda looked on in bewilderment. She glanced from Milo to me then back to Milo. She realised something was going on here but couldn’t work out what.
I shot Milo a murderous look. Linda was a nice lady. The type who could so easily become a mate. I might not live in this village, but there was nothing to stop me from visiting again. And, if I did, it would be nice to make small talk with Linda as she rang up my goods. Maybe, on the next occasion, Hetty would be here too. And we’d all giggle and gossip together about everything and nothing, as women nearly always do.
I’d been enjoying my chit-chat with Linda until Milo had strolled in. Mr Fancies-Himself-Rotten had spoilt things.
That’s not strictly true, Mum, said Cindy, reading my thoughts. Linda said that it’s everybody else who fancies him rotten.
‘Hush,’ I said.
‘Woof,’ Cindy answered.
‘Why do you two keep doing that?’ Milo frowned.
On the wall behind Linda, a phone began to ring.
‘Excuse me, Tilly,’ she said. ‘I must take that call. It’ll be about a missed delivery I’ve been chasing. Won’t be a sec, and then I’ll finish scanning your shopping.’
The moment Linda’s back was turned, Milo rounded on me. He looked like a sleek cat that had finally cornered an annoying mouse. He affected a posh voice.
‘So what else has Modom bought?’ He peered into the brown carrier next to the cash till. ‘By Jove and golly gosh. It’s some highfalutin honey.’ He frowned theatrically. ‘Is that a wise decision?’
‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ I hissed.
‘Well, it’s hoity-toity enough for me, but I’m not so sure about you. Or are you thinking about converting from da-di-da to la-di-da?’
I glared at him.
‘Are you stalking me?’ I hissed.
Milo threw back his head and laughed. It transformed him. The dark eyes danced with amusement, and the creases at the outer corners of his eyes deepened. It was evident, despite his sniping, that this was a man who liked to laugh. I caught a flash of very white, straight teeth and a pink tongue – a sure sign of robust health.
He wiped a tear from one eye. Apparently, my question had been so hilarious he’d literally wept with laughter. He looked at me, a smile playing around his lips.
‘Am I stalking you?’ he hooted. ‘You flatter yourself, Milly.’
‘Tilly,’ I said, trying not to gnash my teeth. ‘You really are the most overbearing, pompous, argumentative-’
‘Ah, that’s what I like to see,’ said Linda, returning to the cash till. ‘New customers hitting it off with each other.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Milo. ‘Eh, Jilly?’
‘Tilly,’ I repeated. For a moment I considered accidentally-on-purpose stepping on his toe. A quick glimpse at Milo’s foot revealed Rambo glaring up at me.
‘It’s always nice when two people get along,’ said Linda cosily.
‘Oh, we’ve been like the proverbial house on fire,’ Milo assured.
‘I can see that,’ Linda winked at me. ‘The sparks are positively flying. Aye, aye, Milo. Don’t go breaking Tilly’s heart now, will you!’