A Sprinkle of Sabotage by Fiona Leitch (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

‘I’m an extra, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for this sort of thing.’

‘Too much hanging about?’

‘How did you…?’

He laughed. ‘It’s the first thing everyone says when they come on set. ‘I didn’t realise there was so much waiting around.’ Basically, it’s minutes of proper full-on action surrounded by hours of boredom. But you’re escaping?’

‘Only until tomorrow. I need the money.’ And I might need to rescue my best mate from Faith Mackenzie.

‘Ha! Don’t we all. See ya, and cheers for this.’ He waved the lead at me, then stepped back so he and Princess the Pekinese were out of the way. I got back in the car and drove away, feeling like the morning hadn’t been all bad after all.

I drove into town to get some bits from the supermarket. Seeing Zack with the dog had reminded me that my own four-legged friend was running low on biscuits, and come to think of it, the two-legged occupants of the house didn’t have any either. I grabbed a basket, then thought better of it and got a small trolley instead (you always need more at the supermarket than you think). As I pushed it along the fruit and veg aisle, I spotted the familiar (and handsome) figure of DCI Nathan Withers ahead of me, perusing the apples.

I suddenly decided to make an apple crumble.

‘Hello, stranger!’ I said, reaching for a bag of Granny Smiths. Nathan started in surprise, then looked at me.

‘Sorry, I was miles away,’ he said, smiling at me.

‘So I see. Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you around for ages.’ Ooh, that sounded like I’d been looking out for him. Which I had, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. ‘Not that I’ve been looking or anything…’

He smiled wanly. ‘It’s nice to know somebody missed me. I had to go home. I only got back last night.’

‘Home? You mean Crosby? Is everything all right?’

‘Not really. My dad’s in hospital. Heart attack.’ Now that I was looking at him properly, rather than just gazing at him lustfully, I could see that he was pale and seemed tired.

‘Nathan, I’m so sorry! Is he going to be all right? How’s your mum taking it?’ He looked so sad for a moment that I wished I hadn’t asked. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to talk about it. I’m being nosey.’

‘You, nosey? Never.’ He smiled again, and this time it looked more genuine. ‘It’s nice that you’re concerned.’

I looked in his trolley. It was full of ready meals for one and bags of pre-prepared frozen rubbish. ‘I’m so concerned that I’m going to make you a decent meal tonight,’ I said. ‘I mean it. Finish your shopping then come round, if you’re off duty?’

He hesitated for a second, then nodded. ‘Thanks, Jodie. It’s just really hard being so far away, innit?’

I put my hand on his arm, but it felt completely inadequate. I really wanted to pull him in for a hug, but that’s the problem with unresolved sexual tension: it makes the most innocent, heartfelt gesture feel a bit inappropriate. And I really was thinking about him with my heart this time, not my other bits…

Mum opened the oven door and sniffed.

‘You’ve done a proper job on dinner tonight,’ she said. ‘What’s all this in aid of?’

‘Nothing,’ I said, a tad too defensively. ‘I just fancied cooking something nice.’

It was nice too. I’d picked up some lovely salmon and hoki fillets at the local fishmongers (we actually had a fishmonger! After years in London, with no option but to buy everything from the massive supermarket nearby, it felt like a luxury). I’d softened leeks in some butter and wilted some spinach along with them, then made a rich, creamy sauce, adding a few strands of saffron that had been steeping in a spoonful of hot water. I cut the fish into chunks and stirred it, along with the veg, into the sauce and let it simmer while I mashed potatoes, adding butter, milk, and a handful of cheese. Then I piled the fish mixture into a pie dish, topping it with the mash and another handful of cheese on top. It was smooth and velvety, and perfect comfort food.

‘If I can’t cook for paying clients, I’ll just have to cook for you and Daisy,’ I said. I turned to Daisy, who had just come into the kitchen with the dog following at her heels. ‘Lay the table, will you, sweetheart?’ She gave a big dramatic sigh – apparently I treated her little better than a slave, what with making her lay the table occasionally and wash up the dinner things – and then pulled out the cutlery drawer. ‘Oh, you’d better lay four places,’ I added casually. All three of them (Germaine included) looked up at me, and I felt my cheeks starting to redden.

‘Tony coming round, is he?’ asked Mum.

‘No, Nathan.’ Mum opened her mouth to say something so I leapt in quick. ‘And before you say anything, it’s not a date – not with you lot here – he’s just had some bad news from home and I want to make sure he’s okay.’

Mum and Daisy exchanged meaningful looks.

‘And you can stop looking at each other like that!’ I said, hotly. ‘He’s just a friend.’

The doorbell rang. Saved by the bell.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Mum, a glint of mischief in her eye.

‘Oh no you flipping won’t,’ I said, standing in her way. ‘And remember what I said. He’s had some bad news and he needs looking after.’

‘He needs cherishing.’ Mum grinned. I ignored her and went to let our dinner guest in.

Nathan stood on the doorstep holding a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates, and a bunch of flowers. He smiled with uncharacteristic shyness, which made my heart do a little flippy-floppy thing in my chest, and held up the wine.

‘I wasn’t sure what to bring, so I made sure I covered all the bases,’ he said. I laughed.

‘Mum’ll