‘Oh honey, did it have to be this week?'
Bob saw the depth of Sarah's disappointment, and hung his head, feeling as guilty as Roy Old's two axe-murderers. 'I'm sorry, love, but I really find it awkward being without the car. The flight costs peanuts, and it ties in with this ploy that Arturo and I have got on the go.'
`What's so important about that?' she asked.
`I'll tell you once it works out. I know we've been living like gypsies lately, but I'll only be away for a few days, and then we'll be back to normal. Why the long face, anyway, as the barman asked the horse?
`Is it just that you'll miss me, or did you have something planned?'
Coyness sat uncomfortably on Sarah. 'We-ell. It's a bit of both, actually. I've invited these people for dinner on Friday. Nice couple. They've only just got together, and I thought it'll be nice for you to meet them and have dinner with them. With one thing and another, Friday was the only day we could fix up over the next few weeks.
Bob took her in his arms and pressed her to his chest. 'I'm really sorry, love. But the ticket's bought and paid for, and Arturo's plans are laid. You'll just have to go ahead with it, and be host and hostess in one. Or maybe Andy could come along.'
`Mmm. Maybe. So when do you expect to be back?'
The flight leaves Newcastle just after midnight, and gets to Girona at about half-three. Arturo's having one of his lads pick me up, but even at that it'll be half-four by the time I get to the villa. So Wednesday'll be a "sleep on the terrace" day. Arturo's arrangements could fall into place either Thursday or Friday. Once the business is over with, I'll drive up to Cherbourg. So look for me Sunday at the latest. Promise. And that'll be the last time. So you can rearrange your dinner party.'
`Copper, it had better be! As for the party, that might not wait.'