Page 9 of Hooked On The One That Got Away (Miss Lovelock’s Agency for Broken Hearts #3)

Chapter Nine

Maeve, of course, had the answer. ‘To the pub!’ she told Willow. ‘It’s not a Tuesday but this is an emergency. Plus, I won’t be distracted by yon sexy beardy fiddler.’

The Oak and Whale was full, but Maeve had somehow commandeered their favourite booth.

She was wearing a sculpted crepe dress in lilac, and silver slingbacks.

Normally, Willow didn’t bother comparing her clothes with Maeve’s, mainly because there was no way she could afford what Maeve wore.

But today, Willow was even more acutely aware that she looked shabby.

She’d been aware of it when she’d met with Charlie in his perfectly tailored suit, and when she’d looked in her own wardrobe and seen nice outfits that she hadn’t worn for nearly a year.

Maeve had never, ever called Willow out on her frumpiness, but then she didn’t have to.

Next to Maeve, Willow may as well have been wearing a used potato sack with armholes cut out of it.

Maybe it was time to ditch the sweats and start taking more pride in her appearance.

‘So, quite the eventful time you’ve been having?’ Maeve said. ‘Encounters with rabid swans and your ex.’

‘The swans weren’t rabid,’ Willow corrected. ‘Just broody, like Geillis said.’

She glanced towards the bar. Geillis wasn’t on tonight.

Her replacement was a young guy with multiple piercings and dyed goth-black hair.

He was lean as a whippet, but Willow could tell from his stance that he knew how to handle himself.

Not that fights broke out regularly in the Oak and Whale, but it was good to be prepared.

‘He’s cute.’ Maeve had followed her gaze to the barman. ‘If you like the Nick Cave murder-ballad vibe. Personally, I prefer a more homespun look, beard, cap and weskit.’

Willow laughed. ‘Does anyone actually say “weskit” these days?’

‘If they don’t, they should,’ Maeve replied. ‘They should say “pismire”, too, and “cockalorum”. But back to you and my first question of many: how did Charlie know where you live?’

‘Oh …’ Willow hadn’t actually considered this. ‘I suppose the plumber told him.’

‘Hmm,’ said Maeve. ‘Seems unprofessional. D’you think Charlie got heavy with him?’

‘He was pretty upset,’ Willow conceded. ‘But Charlie was never the one to pick a fight. He was always the peacemaker.’

Charlie could definitely rail about the injustices of the world, but at heart, he’d been a problem-solver, someone who sorted things out, including arguments. Well, the Charlie she’d known had been, anyway.

‘And how is he looking?’ Maeve said. ‘Question two this is, in case you’ve already lost track.’

A question Willow did not want to answer. ‘Good,’ she said, vaguely. ‘He’s thinner.’

Maeve was not to be deterred. ‘Down to his fit fighting weight, you mean? Or emaciated like he’s had a serious illness or drug habit? Which could explain his long absence.’

‘He’s lost some of his boyishness,’ Willow replied. ‘Got some bone structure in his face.’

‘Has he now?’

Willow squirmed with discomfort under Maeve’s knowing smile. Time to shut this down.

‘He’s still the Charlie who left me without a word,’ she said, firmly. ‘And who’s now a spin doctor for a company that’s deliberately polluting our waterways.’

Willow whispered this last bit. She’d told Maeve everything over the phone but that didn’t mean she wanted the whole of the Oak and Whale to know.

Any of these people could be agents for the water company.

If what Harvey said was right, then they’d stop at nothing to shut down adverse publicity.

Including, Harvey had darkly hinted, threatening people.

‘So, you won’t be giving him a chance to explain?’ Maeve was really digging in, damn her.

‘No!’

Willow forgot to whisper. The barman looked over to check everything was all right. Maeve gave him the thumbs up, which provoked a wry grin.

‘Actually, he is cute,’ said Maeve. ‘Probably not skint either. Should I focus my attention away from the fiddler?’

But Willow was dwelling on Maeve’s previous comment, which bothered her more each time she thought about it.

‘Why should I let Charlie explain?’ she said, crossly. ‘Up until now, you’ve insisted that he behaved like an arse, and I should forget all about him!’

‘True,’ admitted Maeve. ‘But that was when he was god knows where, and now he’s back. And wanting to explain.’

Willow remained tight-lipped. This wasn’t fair of Maeve. She had no right to do a complete about-face.

‘And let’s be frank,’ Maeve went on. ‘The fact you moped about him for a whole entire year means you still have feelings for him, don’t you?’

Willow couldn’t decide what was worse: Maeve suddenly taking Charlie’s side, or Maeve being right.

‘Look, I completely understand why you’re angry with him, and you have every right to be,’ said Maeve. ‘And I’m not suggesting you let him off easy – he owes you the biggest and best explanation in the world, the Kohinoor Diamond of explanations, at least a hundred flawless carats of grovel. But …’

Maeve paused, frowned a little. Willow could tell she was serious about this.

‘I wouldn’t want you to lose the chance to find happiness again.’

For a moment, Willow felt like all the breath had been punched out of her. This was too much. She had to leave. Where was her phone, her bag–?

‘No, please don’t go.’ Maeve put a hand on her arm. ‘I was my usual full-frontal and I had no right to be. I’m sorry.’

Maeve’s sincerity was genuine; Willow knew her friend. Her breathing calmed and she sat back down. No point in running, anyway, her anxieties would only follow her.

‘I don’t condone for a minute what Charlie did to you,’ said Maeve. ‘But I knew you both for yonks, and you were terrific together. And I can’t even begin to guess what caused Charlie’s act of insanity, but – well, maybe it would give you closure to find out?’

Luckily, before Willow could answer, the barman arrived to clear their empty glasses.

‘Get you anything else?’ He spoke to Maeve, Willow observed, not to both of them.

‘Where’s Geillis tonight?’ Maeve asked, after placing their order.

The barman met her eye. ‘Coven.’

Maeve started to laugh and stopped. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

The barman half-smiled. One of his earrings was shaped like a horned goat. Willow found herself hoping he was a Capricorn.

‘She’ll be back tomorrow,’ he said.

‘Oh,’ said Maeve. ‘So, I won’t see you again?’

Willow had to admire her friend’s frankness. Especially when it wasn’t directed at her.

‘You’ll find me,’ the barman said to Maeve. ‘If you want to.’

Then he sauntered off, snake hips in skinny black jeans.

‘Gadzooks!’ Maeve fanned her face. ‘I think my panties just knotted themselves into two half-hitches and a bowline.’

‘As long as you don’t agree to meet him at a crossroads,’ said Willow.

Maeve smiled and then became serious again. ‘It’s your decision,’ she said. ‘Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I mean it. I love you.’

‘I love you, too,’ said Willow. ‘I need time, though. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ Maeve agreed. ‘Now, where’s that sexy devil with our drinks?’