Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe? (44 page)

‘You’re just jealous because they knew more words that rhymed with “vagina” than you did.’

Jack pointed a finger at her. ‘That’s it, Ellie. Stop it. Stop it now or you and I are paying a trip to the shrubbery.’

‘You can’t, not on a solemn occasion like this.’

‘I think we established long ago that Edith wouldn’t mind what we did as long as it was fun and we raised a glass to her now and again. So don’t push your luck, Eleanor Wolfe.’ Jack put the bottle down on the ground and gave her a challenging look. ‘One line of that poem and you’re in the rhododendrons.’

Ellie felt a shiver of anticipation run through her. ‘Really?’ she said, getting up and dancing a little away from him. You don’t even want to hear that bit that went, “When your lady garden I first espied, I couldn’t wait to get inside”?’

‘No, no, absolutely no,’ Jack cried, shooting to his feet and making a grab for her. She managed to dodge away from him.

‘“And when I saw your soft, soft breasts, I knew our love would stand all tests. So place your hand—”’

She got no further before Jack caught her.

‘You’re a bad, bad girl,’ he said, lowering his voice to a deep growl, ‘and it is only because that policeman person is walking our way that you have escaped a severe horticultural-themed punishment.’

‘Thank you, Mellors,’ she said, giggling.

He led her back to the seat and they sat very primly as the policeman walked past. He slowed as he saw the bottle of champagne, but kept on walking.

‘Seemed a bit scared of you,’ Ellie said.

‘Should think so too.’ Jack resumed his efforts to open
the bottle. ‘Shame you’re not still scared of me. Might get a bit more respect.’ He was having a job not to laugh.

‘I wasn’t ever scared of you, Jack. I was wary, that’s different. That was when I thought you were granite all the way through.’

‘I think I was. Then,’ he said simply, and gave her a tender look.

Ellie drank it in and wondered how it was possible to keep on adding to the love you felt for someone. Day by day she had watched Jack step away from the past and relax into the present. Now he only scowled when she asked him to. Plate glass shattered long ago.

The cork shot from the bottle and champagne spurted out all down his suit and on to the grass.

‘Ooh, mind your trousers, Jack, or you’ll have to take them off when we get home,’ she said with a straight face.

He shot her a glittering look and deliberately shook some more champagne down them.

‘Naughty, naughty Jack,’ she said, and he smiled. It was the smile from the photograph, the one Bryan North had shown her. Ellie had seen it many, many times since Jack had come back from New York. Especially on their wedding day. It hadn’t even disappeared when Frank had sidled up to them during the reception and asked them how much it was all costing.

‘To Edith,’ Jack said, taking a drink from the bottle and passing it to her.

‘To Edith,’ she repeated, and took a little sip, letting the bubbles fizz around her mouth and remembering Edith in her prime, dressed like an explosion in a clothing factory and enthusiastically embracing any new experience she could lay her hands on.

‘OK?’ Jack asked.

‘Never better,’ she replied, and reluctantly handed the bottle back to him before taking a few seconds to decide how to phrase what she had to say next.

She had to be very, very careful how she broke any news to Jack. While he might have conquered his fear of death enough to be with her, it hadn’t disappeared entirely. She’d found that out a couple of weeks after they were married and she’d had to admit to him that she had dented the car during her driving lesson. As she’d put on a serious face and said, ‘Jack, I have something to tell you …’ she’d seen his eyes widen in alarm, all the colour drain away from his face.

It was a mistake she hadn’t repeated since.

‘So,’ she said brightly, ‘you know how the two of us working together can sometimes be a bit tricky?’

‘Not for me,’ he said, picking up the carrier bag and plonking it on the seat next to him and then reaching in and bringing out a pot of sour cream.

‘No, well, I don’t mind either, but anyway, I think I might have solved it.’

‘Oh?’ Jack put his hand back in the bag and pulled out
the packet of blinis. He screwed his face up at how battered they were.

Ellie pursed her lips. ‘Are you listening?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘OK, well, put it another way, I think there’s going to be a dip in sales in the San Pro market for a while. They won’t be getting my custom.’

‘Right,’ Jack said, putting the blinis down and reaching into the bag for the pot of caviar.

‘You’re not really paying attention, are you?’

Jack stopped feeling around in the bag. ‘Yes, ’course I am. What were you saying?’

‘Cubs, Jack, what do you think about cubs?’

‘Well, I enjoyed it for a few years, but the Scouts never really appealed to me. It all seemed a bit homoerotic.’ Jack stopped and gave her a searching look. ‘Hang on. Are we talking about cubs as in boys in uniforms or cubs as in cubs?’

‘Patter of tiny little paws, Jack,’ Ellie said, and grinned.

She thought that this was one of those moments in life that you could never get back. She watched her husband and saw the exact second when understanding hit him.

‘Hell’s teeth,’ he said, and threw the bag on the ground. He was standing in front of her the next instant, pulling her to her feet.

There was that smile again.

‘When?’ he said in a voice that sounded a little wobbly.

‘Well, it could have been anytime, but I think it might have been when we were down by the river and you dared me to take—’

‘No, you daft wench, I mean when is the baby due?’

‘Oh, March, late March. And less of the wench.’

Jack placed his hand gently on Ellie’s stomach and gave her that intense, grey look of his that had stolen her heart all those months ago and made her yearn for him even now when he was standing in front of her.

‘New life,’ Ellie said softly.

Jack nodded. ‘Damn right, Ellie. New life.’

Then he pulled her in close and wrapped his arms tightly round her.

And just this once, Ellie didn’t say anything smart or funny. She didn’t search for the perfect pun.

She stayed quiet and let Jack have absolutely, totally, the last word.