The Toast of the Town (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book III)

Only Good News

Author's Note:

We only have a couple more chapters left in this story, my darlings. And then... ;)

Let me know what you'd like to see next! Every Book Shop Needs a Cat? Holier Than Thou? Or perhaps... Another Fox & Oakby story? ;)

Love,

K. xx

***

The garden party in the Oakby Manor was in full swing. Waiters glided on the lawn, full glasses were picked up from the trays, and empty ones were quickly given back. It seemed to Imogen that a cornucopia of vol-au-vents, pastry bites, and other delicious morsels must have opened somewhere in the kitchens of the stately home - and new platters appeared again and again only  to quickly grow barren, and to be immediately replaced with heaping ones again. Pleasant music carried over the garden, paper lanterns gently rocked in the June breeze. People smiled, children played, and chatter and laughter danced in the balmy evening air.

Imogen smiled and nodded to yet another Fleckney's big cheese congratulating her. The Mayor threw her a side glance, and she discreetly found his hand and squeezed his fingers.

"Would you excuse us, colonel?" the Mayor said courteously. "I see someone I'd like to introduce Imogen to."

Colonel Assefa frantically waved his spade-like hands and shooed them away. The Mayor looped his arm and led Imogen away from the chuffed army man who was now busily heading towards the table with pudding.

"Whom am I meeting?" Imogen asked with curiosity.

"No one." The Mayor leaned to her ear and whispered, "I'm stealing you away. We're sneaking to the shrubbery to snog."

Imogen gave him a bewildered look, and he quickly leaned in and pecked her lips.

"John," Imogen hissed a warning.

"It's our engagement party, darling," he murmured with a chuckle. "We're allowed some liberties."

Imogen thought about it for a second - and then carefully picked up the Mayor's cornflower coloured, polka-dotted tie, pulled at it, and firmly kissed the man. As usual the effect it had on his acuity was devastating: when she released him, he looked dazed, and light blush powdered his cheekbones.

"I do not object to liberties," Imogen announced and wiped a smear of her lip gloss off the corner of the Mayor's mouth, with her thumb. "I was just surprised to hear you say 'snog.'"

The Mayor stared at her and then nodded unsurely. Imogen intertwined their fingers and pulled him after her. Copping off in shrubbery might have been a tad too much, but a short respite in privacy, away from all the socialising, would be most welcome.

"Have you eaten?" the Mayor asked as they were passing a platter with sausage rolls and falafel skewers.

"I have," Imogen answered. "But this sort of food is rather funny, don't you think? It always feels like you could have a couple more of those mini samosas and a few arancini, and you don't notice how you've gobbled up half a dozen."

"How about you escape now, before yet another guest decides to jump at you, and I join you with a plate?" the Mayor offered. "Do you know the Northern gazebo? The one where Brian likes to play? How about we meet there?"

"I wouldn't risk it," Imogen whispered to him in a conspiratorial way. "I saw a couple of guests heading that way. We might not be the only ones who want to have a small picnic away from the crowd."

"Hm, a 'picnic' you say?" the Mayor rumbled, raising one eyebrow. "As in a lunch al fresco?"

Imogen pressed her lips, suppressing a cheeky grin. Considering that said guests she'd seen slipping away towards the gazebo had been Viola Holyoake and her husband, there was a high chance that they had had the same idea of an open air 'meal' as the Mayor.