Love Your Neighbour: A laugh-out-loud love from the author of One Day in December. Kat French
it was, she didn’t argue when Dan knocked the bottle tops off with a brick and handed her one, and she found herself sitting down alongside him on the back step to bask in the optimistic warmth of the spring afternoon sunshine.
‘So, Emily from the chapel. What do you want with our Gabriel?’
She took a good slug of beer to embolden herself. ‘To appeal to his better nature, I guess?’
Dan laughed. ‘He’ll be sorry he missed that. Want to try to appeal to mine instead?’
Emily eyed him. The beer made her brave. ‘Depends. Have you got any sway around here? You look like the lackey to me.’
‘Ouch.’ He clutched at his heart. ‘I’ll have you know that I’m Gabe’s wing man.’
He took a long drink, and Emily noticed a bead of sweat running down his neck as he swallowed.
‘Goose to his Maverick.’ Dan paused. ‘Actually, no. He’s Goose. I’m way cooler.’
‘Okay then, Top Gun. Seeing as you two are so close, can you please persuade him to take his dead bodies someplace else?’
‘Aaah.’ Dan shook his head regretfully. ‘No can do, pretty lady. See, he’s dead set on this place.’
He laughed at his own wit.
‘Dead set … Get it?’
‘It’s not funny.’ Emily reproached him with a frown. ‘I love my job at the chapel.’
Dan hitched himself up on the doorframe and grabbed a couple more beers, then dropped back down and stretched his long legs out in front of him again.
‘So, Emily from the chapel … I’m guessing from that flashy sparkler on your finger that you’re married.’
He nodded towards the diamond solitaire that Tom had maxed out his Visa card for as a birthday surprise six years ago. Theirs had been the most romantic of whirlwind romances, star-crossed lovers from the moment they’d both reached for the last coronation chicken sandwich in Marks & Spencer. ‘No one else ever likes them,’ she’d murmured, and he’d floored her with his wide smile and merry eyes. He left without his lunch, but with the telephone number of the girl of his dreams in his pocket.
It felt like a lifetime ago right at that moment, like they were two completely different people.
Emily stroked the diamond with the tip of her finger and nodded.
‘Five years this summer.’
‘Wow. You must have been a child bride.’ Dan didn’t attempt to hide the cheeky admiration from his eyes.
‘Flatterer.’ Emily flushed. It had been a long time since Tom had looked at her that way. She knew she really ought to leave, but accepted the fresh beer Dan held out instead.
‘And you?’ She glanced at his ring-free hands. ‘No wife to declare?’
‘Nope. Why? You fancy doing a Bonnie and Clyde and running away with me in that thing?’
He grinned and jerked his head towards the dusty hearse snoozing in the sunshine.
If only life were that simple, Emily thought, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to jump in the hearse and run away from her problems. From Beckleberry. From Tom. A wave of desolation swept over her, bringing a sudden lump to her throat and tears to her eyes. When Dan slid closer and eased a strong, warm arm around her shoulders, it felt way too good to shrug off. It had been so long since Tom had comforted her and really meant it.
‘God, I’m sorry,’ Emily gulped, embarrassed by the tears welling up in her eyes. ‘Ignore me. I’m being a total idiot.’
Dan gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. ‘Hey, it’s cool. You gave me a bona fide reason to put my arm around you without risking a slap on the face.’
Emily was grateful that he chose to make light of things rather than pry.
‘You hit a bit of a nerve, that’s all. I’m okay, really.’ She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and stood up. ‘I need to go. Thanks for … for this.’
She thrust her still-full bottle into his hands and backed away towards the gate. Dan set the beers down on the step and leaned against the doorframe.
‘I’ll tell Gabe you came by.’
Emily’s guilty heart banged in her chest as she nodded and fled.
‘Standing room only, you said,’ Marla hissed out of the side of her mouth at Jonny as he straightened the wine glasses on the table by the entrance for the third time. She glanced around at the sparse gathering in the chapel. Barely thirty people, even though Jonny had used the promise of free wine as a shameless lure on the flyers for the public meeting and had stocked up on cheap chardonnay in the expectation of a full house.
‘Sshhh, chillax, flower. There’s time yet. It’s still early.’
Jonny slapped Emily’s hand away as she sidled over and reached for a glass of wine.
‘Did you see the hot reporter from The Herald over there?’ she stage-whispered with an exaggerated tilt of her head towards a guy standing alone on the far side of the chapel. His starched shirt and tie set him apart from everyone else in the room, as did the camera slung nonchalantly around his neck.
Jonny grinned. ‘Did I ever, sweet cheeks! He can take my close-up, anytime.’ He flexed his muscles and turned his chin so Emily could admire his best side.
‘Put your guns away, Rambo. I think he has his eye on our Marla,’ Emily said, laughing at Jonny’s disappointed pout.
Marla shook her head at the pair of them, but shot a glance over at the reporter anyway. He caught her eye and smiled, and she looked away quickly. She was way too nervous to flirt. They all turned as the heavy door inched open, and slumped again as Dora and Ivan shuffled in, arm in arm.
‘Evening all.’ Ivan nodded jovially around before making a beeline for the drinks table.
‘I’m only here for the wine, dear,’ he confided loudly to Emily behind his hand. ‘Are there sandwiches?’
Dora, resplendent in her Sunday-best coat and her sparkly brooch, frowned and batted him with her handbag. ‘You said you were too full to eat much of my cabbage and sausage hotpot.’
Ivan pulled an exaggerated look of horror at Emily then smiled beatifically at his wife and patted her hand. ‘You must have misheard me, my love. It was a triumph as always.’
Emily shook her head affectionately at them. She’d never known her own grandparents, but in her head Dora and Ivan were the perfect replacements. They were quite the double act, as in sync as any comedy duo, and yet every now and then she caught the odd look and private smile between them that melted her heart. She knew from snippets that Dora had revealed over the years that Ivan had been the love of her life from the very first day she’d met him as a starry-eyed teenager. Behind their banter and their light-hearted jokes lay solid gold love; theirs was a marriage to aspire to.
Emily sighed and glanced at her watch. Tom had promised to try and make it, but given the shaky state of their relationship she’d have been more surprised by his presence than his absence.
Half an hour later it was apparent that no one else was going to turn up. The only people to come through the door since Dora and Ivan had been Kevin, the village plumber and occasional Elvis impersonator at the chapel, and Ruth the florist, who needed to stay abreast of the village gossip in order to keep her customers happy and spending their pennies.
Jonny made his way up to the lectern with a resigned look on his suntanned face.
‘Right,