The Best of Friends by Alex Day (accelerated reader books .txt) 📕

of course,’ Dan adds as an afterthought. ‘Plus, she quite often disappears off to have mysterious beauty treatments – I’m not too sure of the details of those.’

‘That explains her amazing figure,’ I say, unable to keep from my voice the wistful envy that I feel, ‘and her perfect complexion. Whatever she’s doing, it’s definitely worth it.’

Neither of us speaks for a moment.

Dan seems to remember something important. ‘And of course there’s her foraging club.’ He emits a short burst of mirth, quickly turning it into an appreciative smile. ‘That’s her latest fad – finding food for free in the fields and hedgerows, living like she’s in the eighteenth century.’ He pauses and then, as if afraid of sounding disloyal, hastily adds, ‘I mean, it’s quite amazing what she dishes up. She’s even writing a book about it.’

‘Wow,’ I say, inadequately. There seems to be nothing that Charlotte isn’t involved in, nothing that falls outside her sphere of interest or expertise. It occurs to me that this must have been what Miriam meant when she told me about the Food for Free club – not a foodbank at all but a way of living off nature’s bounty.

‘I think Miriam alluded to it at the party,’ I muse, ‘but I wasn’t quite sure what she was on about. I’m glad to have got to the root of it.’

There’s a tense and awkward moment when I’m not sure if my joke has landed wide of the mark. But then Dan’s face lights up and he laughs, real laughter this time rather than the ironic type from earlier.

‘The root of it!’ he laughs. ‘Very good, very clever.’

‘Pardon the pun,’ I say, grinning broadly, chuffed at how funny he seems to have found it. Humour brings down barriers – as long as it’s actually funny, or at least cheesy. Not like Justin’s speciality of mother-in-law and fat-wife jokes. I read in a women’s magazine once that it’s essential to have a store of one-liners and quips up your sleeve for those awkward moments on a date when no one can think of what to say. I didn’t take it too seriously at the time, being married to Justin and having no intention of ever being single again. Even now that I am, here in the cold chill of a barren Biglow morning, the idea of ever going on a date seems more unlikely than the Pope not being Catholic. But I’ve made Dan laugh and that gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

‘You must ask her about it, get involved,’ Dan is saying about the foraging club. ‘She and the girls have a whale of a time out in the countryside.’

‘Oh, I will.’ And I mean it. I’d love to be in Charlotte’s club; of course I would. ‘Is it just in Biglow, or are there other branches?’ I add, innocently.

‘No, just Big—’ Dan pauses and starts to chuckle again. ‘Very clever, I see what you did there. You’re too good at this!’ He thinks for a moment before speaking again. ‘Perhaps I should plant the seed of an idea in her head for an expansion …’

‘From little acorns and all that,’ I contribute. ‘I recommend a root and branch approach.’

We’re both chortling away now, enjoying our silly little word game.

‘As long as she’s not barking up the wrong tree,’ he concludes, giving me a cheeky wink.

In the spirit of always quitting whilst you’re ahead, I put forth my final sally. ‘You should take your leaf now,’ I rejoin. ‘I don’t want you being late on my account.’

Dan shakes his head, still laughing. ‘I’ll remember this conversation.’ He pauses, and then thinks of something that brings a frown to his handsome face. ‘You have to be a bit careful, though. In the foraging club, I mean. Some of the plants out there are poisonous.’

My grip tightens on the roof of the car where rain drops have balled and separated. ‘Yes,’ I agree slowly. ‘I always remember my mother telling me about deadly nightshade, and never to eat berries of any kind. It’s the sort of warning you remember all your life.’

Dan nods, the humour of our earlier exchange having disappeared from his voice. ‘I’m talking about mushrooms. We had an unfortunate episode once with some that Charlotte inadvertently gathered.’ He pauses, sighing ruefully. ‘There are all kinds of dodgy ones, some really quite nasty.’

His voice, with its suave and soothing cadences, continues but I’m feeling dizzy and finding it hard to concentrate.

All of a sudden, Dan stops talking. ‘Are you all right?’

His question is tinged with anxiety, my sudden silence after so much jollity causing him to break off from his chatting. ‘You look like you’re about to faint.’

He’s at my side, his hand on my elbow.

‘I’m sorry,’ I stutter. ‘Just a sudden head rush. Low-sugar blip – I haven’t eaten anything yet today.’

‘So get yourself indoors and get something hot inside you,’ he says commandingly, shaking his head disapprovingly as if I’ve broken a rule and let him down. I almost titter at the double entendre, but stop myself just in time as Dan is clearly oblivious and I don’t want him to think me crude. ‘And don’t go out running on an empty stomach again.’

‘No.’ I smile at him gratefully. ‘I won’t. You’re right. Silly. Silly thing to do, silly me.’

Dan’s forehead creases with concern. ‘Would you like me to come in with you? To make sure you’re all right?’

I shake my head.

‘I’m fine,’ I say, ‘really.’ I rub my fingers across my forehead as if that will erase the headache that’s gathering there. ‘Before you go, though, can I take Charlotte’s number? I don’t actually have it. I’d like to invite her over for a coffee. Get to know her better, you know.’

‘Of course. She’d love that.’

Dan writes down the number, tears off the piece of paper and hands it to me.

‘I must fly now; I’m due in the office in an hour. Take care of yourself, won’t you? Eat something!’

He