“They were still discussing the matter when Rona’s mother phoned, inviting them to Sunday lunch. ‘Pops will be pleased, anyway,’ Rona commented as she replaced the phone. Max put a conciliatory arm round her. ‘Sorry if I’ve been a bit downbeat, love; I appreciate it’ll be a real feather in your cap if you pull it off.’ ‘If?’ He sighed. ‘I can’t explain; I just feel a little – apprehensive, that’s all.’ ‘Of what?’ ‘Oh, I don’t know. Basically, because he died so recently, and not in his own bed, ...like any self-respecting citizen.’ She laughed. ‘If I limited my subjects to those who’d died in bed—’ ‘—you might come up with some very interesting stories! Now, pour me another drink, will you, and I’ll make a start on the meal. I can’t compete with Dinah, but I do a mean chicken Kiev, if I say so myself. As sous-chef, you can dress the salad.’ Rona reached for the oil and lemon juice. ‘All the same, if things get tricky and I need a bit of advice, I don’t want you saying, “I told you so.”’ Max grinned.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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