Joker in the Pack (Romantic Suspense, Completed, Watty Winner)

Chapter 17

I turned left out of the driveway to avoid the centre of the village, only to hear the toot of a horn behind me.

"Need a lift somewhere?" Warren asked through his open window.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm quite happy cycling."

"Quicker in the car."

"I'm not going anywhere in particular. It's more...exercise. I need exercise."

"Okay, well, have fun. Don't forget I'm always around if you do need to go anywhere."

I smiled, thankful that at least one person other than Tate was still speaking to me. "I've got your number."

His number and a whole lot of guilt, because I'd turned down Warren and then had dinner with Tate. I honestly had intended to enjoy the single life when I came to Upper Foxford, but what if Warren thought I'd lied? Stupid Olivia, always digging myself into holes.

After Warren disappeared off around the bend, I pushed all thoughts of men out of my head and spent a pleasant morning getting lost in the local countryside. The fresh air in my lungs gave me the energy I'd been missing, and before I knew it, I'd cycled through four villages and ended up in a fifth. Where had I heard the name Stonystead recently? I racked my brains and recalled Tate's mention of petty vandalism. If I hadn't been gasping for a drink, I'd have kept cycling.

The pub on the main road wasn't a particularly pretty one, but the barman greeted me warmly, which was a pleasant change after the last few days.

"Just a drink, or would you like to see the lunch menu?"

My stomach chose that moment to let out a grumble. "Maybe I'll just grab a snack."

Most of the food was fried—chips, spring rolls, scampi—but that came as a welcome relief after the snooty food at The Cock and Bull.

"Can I have a chicken-and-mushroom pie with chunky chips, please? Oh, and a lemonade."

"Coming right up. Haven't seen you around here before."

"I live in Upper Foxford."

He raised an eyebrow. "Slumming it over here, aren't you?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Lower Foxford's not so bad, but the folk in Upper and Middleton Foxford look down their noses at us."

"They don't think much of me, either, so I'll fit right in."

He laughed and gave me a gap-toothed smile. "Maybe we'll see a bit more of you, then?"

"You can count on it."

When I got home, pleasantly full, I parked the bike in the rickety old woodshed at the edge of the garden. It still had a small pile of rotting logs stacked in one corner, but now that Lilac Cottage had central heating, the remainder of the space was empty.

The piles of peril had also yielded a padlock and chain, and I secured the bike to a support beam then walked back down the mossy path to the cottage, cursing softly as I passed the remains of the old sofa. Why hadn't I remembered it when Tate brought the horsebox? I wasn't about to impose on him further, so now I'd have to put up with the eyesore until Dave came by with his van again. If I got lucky, the brambles might have a growth spurt and cover it up.

Next door, I heard the click of secateurs—Yvonne was out pruning her bushes. I raised my hand in greeting.

"Hello! Lovely afternoon, isn't it?"

She looked right through me before turning on her heel and marching back into her house. Great. She'd succumbed to the rumours too. I'd been having such a good day, but now my eyes prickled with tears as I pined for my old flat. I'd take being ignored by my neighbours over this outright hostility any day.