certain
asperity. 'She's my guest,' he added with laboured dignity. 'And
i f she wants to go home—then we will.' Laura fumbled with her
wrap, hotly embarrassed. She hung back deliberately as the others
made their way to the door, hoping they would be gone by the time
she reached the street. On her way out, she was waylaid by
Bethany, who gave her a swift hug. 'You're invited to the post
mortem tomorrow morning,' she whispered. 'Coffee about eleven.
Come to the side door.' Laura nodded, forcing a smile. 'I'll be
there. And the meal was fantastic, Beth. I don't think you have a
thing to worry about.' Bethany smiled crossing her fingers, then
turned to greet another departing group who also had praise to
lavish. Laura was drawn into the conversation too, and it was
some minutes before she could detach herself. But when she
emerged from the restaurant, she found with a sinking heart that
all three of them were waiting for her, Celia tapping her foot
impatiently. Laura could see at once that something was wrong.
Alan was leaning against the side of his car. He was very pale
suddenly, and there were beads of sweat on his face. She groaned
inwardly. Jason said grimly. 'He isn't fit to drive. The fresh a
a | has knocked him out.' T have a licence. I can manage,' Laura
said with a confidence she was far from feeling. 'That,' Jason
said silkily, ' I doubt. Unless your diploma course included a
section on dealing with drunks. And what about the terms of his
car insurance and yours, for that matter. Are you covered to
drive for him, because if not the consequences could be serious
if you were stopped, or had an accident?' Laura was silent. She
hadn't thought of that. At last, she said, 'There's a taxi rank
in the square. We'll use that.' ' I f you can persuade them to
take you.' Jason shrugged powerful shoulders. 'Passengers in his
condition are not exactly popular.' She glared at him. 'Then you
think of something.' ' I already have,' he said. T i l take you
both in my car.' Celia who had been listening petulantly to the
conversation, broke in, alarmed. 'Oh, but Jason, you can't. Your
lovely car—supposing he was—ill?' He gave her a level look.
'That's a risk I ' l l have to take. But if the possibility
upsets you, then I ' l l hire one of those taxis for you
instead.' Celia's face went blank, as she realised she had
outmanoeuvred herself. Her voice became a little shrill. 'But why
should our evening be spoiled, because Laura's—admirer can't
hold his drink? It's quite ridiculous. And, after all, Laura did
say she could cope...'
'Laura,' Jason said softly, 'is extremely capable, but I'm sure,
under the circumstances, your father would wish her to have
proper assistance. Particularly,' he added, 'as I suspect most of
the damage was done under your roof earlier. Those were very
large whiskies you were pouring for him.' Celia shrugged
delicately. 'He could have refused.' Jason smiled down into her
sulky face. 'He was so dazzled by you that he'd probably have
drunk hemlock, if you'd offered it, and who can blame him?' He
brushed her cheek with his hand, drawing a reluctant smile from
her. 'That's better. And the evening doesn't have to end here.
Laura and I will deliver the patient safely, then join you for
coffee. Will that do?' She laughed up at him. 'Mr Wingard, you
think of everything. I ' l l have the coffee waiting.' It was
mortifying, having to wait in the street while Jason took Celia
to the taxi rank. Alan was looking more ghastly with every moment
that passed, and when she finally persuaded him to stop hanging
on to the Mini and walk the few yards down Burngate to where
Jason's Jaguar was parked, he was decidedly unsteady on his legs.
She was almost thankful when Jason reappeared round the corner
from the square, covering the distance which separated them with
his long, lithe stride. 'I'm sorry about this.' It almost killed
her to say it. He
asperity. 'She's my guest,' he added with laboured dignity. 'And
i f she wants to go home—then we will.' Laura fumbled with her
wrap, hotly embarrassed. She hung back deliberately as the others
made their way to the door, hoping they would be gone by the time
she reached the street. On her way out, she was waylaid by
Bethany, who gave her a swift hug. 'You're invited to the post
mortem tomorrow morning,' she whispered. 'Coffee about eleven.
Come to the side door.' Laura nodded, forcing a smile. 'I'll be
there. And the meal was fantastic, Beth. I don't think you have a
thing to worry about.' Bethany smiled crossing her fingers, then
turned to greet another departing group who also had praise to
lavish. Laura was drawn into the conversation too, and it was
some minutes before she could detach herself. But when she
emerged from the restaurant, she found with a sinking heart that
all three of them were waiting for her, Celia tapping her foot
impatiently. Laura could see at once that something was wrong.
Alan was leaning against the side of his car. He was very pale
suddenly, and there were beads of sweat on his face. She groaned
inwardly. Jason said grimly. 'He isn't fit to drive. The fresh a
a | has knocked him out.' T have a licence. I can manage,' Laura
said with a confidence she was far from feeling. 'That,' Jason
said silkily, ' I doubt. Unless your diploma course included a
section on dealing with drunks. And what about the terms of his
car insurance and yours, for that matter. Are you covered to
drive for him, because if not the consequences could be serious
if you were stopped, or had an accident?' Laura was silent. She
hadn't thought of that. At last, she said, 'There's a taxi rank
in the square. We'll use that.' ' I f you can persuade them to
take you.' Jason shrugged powerful shoulders. 'Passengers in his
condition are not exactly popular.' She glared at him. 'Then you
think of something.' ' I already have,' he said. T i l take you
both in my car.' Celia who had been listening petulantly to the
conversation, broke in, alarmed. 'Oh, but Jason, you can't. Your
lovely car—supposing he was—ill?' He gave her a level look.
'That's a risk I ' l l have to take. But if the possibility
upsets you, then I ' l l hire one of those taxis for you
instead.' Celia's face went blank, as she realised she had
outmanoeuvred herself. Her voice became a little shrill. 'But why
should our evening be spoiled, because Laura's—admirer can't
hold his drink? It's quite ridiculous. And, after all, Laura did
say she could cope...'
'Laura,' Jason said softly, 'is extremely capable, but I'm sure,
under the circumstances, your father would wish her to have
proper assistance. Particularly,' he added, 'as I suspect most of
the damage was done under your roof earlier. Those were very
large whiskies you were pouring for him.' Celia shrugged
delicately. 'He could have refused.' Jason smiled down into her
sulky face. 'He was so dazzled by you that he'd probably have
drunk hemlock, if you'd offered it, and who can blame him?' He
brushed her cheek with his hand, drawing a reluctant smile from
her. 'That's better. And the evening doesn't have to end here.
Laura and I will deliver the patient safely, then join you for
coffee. Will that do?' She laughed up at him. 'Mr Wingard, you
think of everything. I ' l l have the coffee waiting.' It was
mortifying, having to wait in the street while Jason took Celia
to the taxi rank. Alan was looking more ghastly with every moment
that passed, and when she finally persuaded him to stop hanging
on to the Mini and walk the few yards down Burngate to where
Jason's Jaguar was parked, he was decidedly unsteady on his legs.
She was almost thankful when Jason reappeared round the corner
from the square, covering the distance which separated them with
his long, lithe stride. 'I'm sorry about this.' It almost killed
her to say it. He
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