self-conscious about. That doesn’t seem to matter as much for men, but, well, you know.”
Victoria nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I don’t think it matters too much if you’ve been with the same old guy for years and the two of you are comfortable together, but with someone new and for the first time, at our age, yes, I can see exactly how you’d feel.”
“And not only that, but there’s the business of where. I wanted it to be nice for us. Romantic, even. Not his place where he used to live with his wife—not that I’ve ever been there; it might be quite nice for all I know—and not here, not yet, not with all these memories of Alys and Emma and their stuff everywhere you look. I wanted to wait until the place was all done up nicely and looking the way I want it to. I’d even thought, maybe a hotel, and then you see him and that’s exactly where he is. So he and I were thinking along the same lines, only it just wasn’t me he wanted, apparently.”
Her eyes began to swim and she reached in her pocket for a tissue as Victoria crept into the living room and returned with a box of them.
“Here. Treat yourself. Have a new one.”
After a moment Victoria put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. “What will you do if he rings? Will you see him?”
“The way I feel now, I think I’d be too embarrassed. How could I?”
“Maybe you should give him the chance to explain.”
“I don’t think so.”
And then she started to gather up the remains of the meal, indicating that as far as she was concerned, the subject was closed.
“I’ll give you a hand,” said Victoria as she picked up the cutlery, and together they cleared the table.
“Do you want me to stay and help with the dishes?” she asked when the leftovers had been scraped into plastic containers and stored in the fridge.
“No thanks,” said Penny. “I’m going to watch a bit of telly and then an early night. But there is something you can do, if you don’t mind. Please call Alwynne and Thomas and Bronwyn and see if they can come over on Friday night. I want to hear about the visit to the vet. I hope they learned something that will help us.”
“And what about Bethan?” asked Victoria. “Or is she out of the picture now, too?”
“Hmm. We need her, and anyway, we like her, so if we can, let’s keep in with her.”
They stood there awkwardly for a few moments, and then Victoria turned toward the door.
“Well. Good night, then.”
“Good night. And hey, thanks for telling me. What was that expression I read once and liked so much? Oh yes, ‘the uglier the truth, the truer the friend who tells you.’ ”
“It’s just amazing the difference in him,” Rev. Thomas Evans was saying to his wife, Bronwyn. “Look at him sitting there looking at you.”
The difference in the dog was remarkable. His beige coat had been brushed, his body was filling out, and his eyes had become bright and joyful. He walked easily on his lead, gobbled up every morsel in his bowl, and once he was strong enough to go outside, barked at the door to be let out. He played in the rectory garden but, Bronwyn noticed, never strayed into the cemetery. The first few nights she had placed his basket beside her bed and now, without being asked, as soon as he saw them begin their bedtime routine he had his own. While Thomas checked to make sure the door was locked, the dog had a final drink of water. When Bronwyn turned off the lights in the sitting room, he waited at the bottom of the stairs. As the couple headed toward the stairs, he bounded up ahead of them and greeted them at the top. Then he scampered down the hall and led them to their bedroom.
“Well, he’s getting along splendidly,” Alun Jones said the next morning. “He’s gaining weight and looking much better in himself. How have you been finding him?”
“Oh, he’s the best little dog anyone could ask for!” Bronwyn replied. “So eager to please and such a dear, good boy.”
The vet and the rector exchanged a quick glance.
“Well, I’m going to suggest that he stay with you a few more days, just to be on the safe side, and then, if you’re sure you wouldn’t