Free Rosemary Aitken by Flowers for Miss Pengelly

was about to introduce the two of them, but Effie had turned that lobster pink again, and had begun to speak, obviously in answer to what Bert had said.
    ‘Nothing!’ she said quickly. ‘We were just gossiping. And I mustn’t keep you. I know you want to walk.’
    Bert looked at her. His eyes were twinkling. ‘Only a little stroll around the lanes. There’s no hurry – no need to rush away. Lettie, introduce me to your pretty friend.’
    Lettie found – rather to her own surprise – that she was furious. ‘This is Effie,’ she muttered gracelessly. ‘Works at Mrs Thatchell’s down Morrab Road.’
    Bert did the twinkle that she liked so much, but it was aimed at Effie. ‘Then that is where I’ve seen you. I knew I knew the face. No doubt we’ve spoken when I brought the groceries.’
    What a sweet-talker the blighter was, Lettie thought crossly. He knows her perfectly – he was the one who said that he’d seen her on the street with that confounded policeman. She forced herself to smile. ‘Effie this is Bert. My beau. We’ve started walking out – only of course we can’t let Miss Caroline find out. Strictly, I’m not permitted to have followers.’
    Effie was looking admiringly at Bert. Lettie was impatient. This would never do. She stepped out beside him and slid her arm through his – something that she never generally did. Bert was always grumbling that she kept him at arm’s length, though of course she didn’t really: she let him take her hand when there was nobody about and even give her a quick peck on the cheek each time they said goodbye. This time, though, she hugged his arm against her side. ‘Nice to see you, Effie. We must meet again. See you at the Westons’ shop perhaps. Nothing to stop us having a chatter, is there, now and then?’
    Effie shook her head. ‘Well . . . only a chat mind! I’ll look out for you. Now I mustn’t stop you walking with your beau.’
    Bert gave a little bow. ‘And I see that yours is coming to claim you,’ he said.
    Lettie whirled around. A young man was walking towards them down the path, a young man so handsome that it took her breath away. He was tall and fairish, with broad shoulders and long legs and in his smart Norfolk jacket, flannel trousers and tweed hat, even Valentino could not hold a torch to him. She found that she was boggling, and it took a tug upon her arm from Bert to bring her to herself.
    Even Effie was looking quite surprised. ‘Why if it isn’t Alexander Dawes. I hardly knew you in those clothes!’
    The newcomer was smiling down at her. He was so handsome that Lettie felt quite feeble at the knees. She extricated her right hand again and held it out. ‘Mr Dawes. I’m Lettie Pearson, Effie’s friend. I’m so glad that we’ve met.’ She was going to add something about having heard of him, but Effie was listening so she left out that. ‘And this is Bert Symons, from the grocer’s shop.’
    Bert nodded vaguely. ‘Glad to meet you, sir, I’m sure.’ He turned pointedly to her. ‘Now Lettie, do you fancy a walk along to Devil’s Rock, today? I think we’ve just got time before it comes to rain.’
    Lettie was reluctant to leave Effie with that vision of a man. ‘Would you like to come with us?’ she heard herself saying. Bert looked at her surprised, but she ploughed desperately on. ‘I haven’t seen Effie for simply weeks and weeks – to talk to properly.’
    Bert was looking daggers. ‘It’s a nice thought, Lettie. But I’m sure this young man would prefer to have Effie to himself – and I feel the same. We haven’t had much chance to talk for weeks, ourselves.’
    ‘Besides,’ the vision gave her a slow smile that knocked Bert’s cheerful twinkle into a cocked hat. ‘We don’t have much time – not enough to go as far as that – and I’m not really dressed for muddy paths. Some other time, perhaps.’ He tipped his hat and – bold as you like – offered his arm to Effie, who took it with a