Friday afternoon was always better when there was no case left hanging over the weekend. And even though it was not quite quitting time, D.I. Robert Lewis and D.S. James Hathaway were shutting down their computers and clearing off their desks.
"Hathaway, I was wondering if you'd want to come 'round for dinner on Sunday. Someone gave me a rabbit and I thought I'd try out something I learned in that cooking class. Only a rabbit's too big for just me and I'll have to have it for my next four dinners if I can't get anyone to share it."
"You? Rabbit?"
"Don't sound so surprised. I learned a lot in that class, for your information."
"Well, the thing is . . . See, my mother's staying with me this week. Had some sort of a plumbing issue at her house in London yesterday and in a weak moment I told her she could stay with me until it's been repaired."
"Your mother? Just her, not your dad?"
"They're separated."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Have been for years. But divorce is out of the question as far as they're concerned."
"Anyway, she's welcome, too, then. Three would be even better."
"You're sure? She can be pretty formidable."
"Well, at least we'll outnumber her, right?"
"In theory."
* * *
Lewis jumped when the doorbell rang late Sunday afternoon. He was nervous enough that he had everything ready ahead of time and was left with little to do but fidget. If it had just been James he would have been much calmer. He couldn't believe it had seemed like a good idea to invite a total stranger to his house for dinner, especially one so close to his partner.
He let them in and Hathaway led the way to the front room. "Mum, this is my boss, Robert Lewis. Sir, my mother, Louise Hathaway." She was tall, as Lewis expected, and about his own age. Her features were a bit too long to be considered pretty, but she had a kind of quiet elegance he rather liked. Yet he also sensed she had an inner core of steel and could hold her own in a contest of wills.
She smiled pleasantly. "Robert."
"Robbie, Ma'am, please. Very nice to meet you. Can I get anyone a glass of wine?"
The dinner went surprisingly well. Hathaway could scarcely believe how delicious it was. Lewis had simmered the rabbit in white wine, with mustard and parsley, and it was so tender it nearly fell off the bone. Steamed asparagus and boiled new potatoes rounded out the meal. The conversation had been mostly about the advantages and disadvantages of living in Oxford, as compared to London, and had been quite pleasant. By the time the second bottle of wine had been opened, Lewis was laughing and thoroughly enjoying himself. He felt a glow of pride from how well the rabbit had turned out, and Louise's sense of humor was refreshingly frank. Although he could tell she had far more education than he did, she never said anything that made him feel it mattered. And James seemed more relaxed as the dinner progressed. If he thought his mother was going to say something to embarrass him, he was proven wrong. She seemed nothing but proud of him in everything she said.
Hathaway helped Lewis clear the dishes and get the coffee. James looked at him inquiringly, eyebrows raised, but the open design of the flat made private conversation impossible and they did not exchange any comments. Lewis just smiled back.
When the coffee was done and the evening at an end, they rose to leave.
"I've really enjoyed meeting you, Robbie. It's nice to have a face to put with your name. James talks about you a great deal, but you're not as I imagined. He never mentioned how delightful you are." She bussed him lightly on the cheek. "Thank you for a lovely meal." And she swirled out the door, with James hurrying to catch up. "Goodnight, Sir!"
As Lewis went back to the kitchen to start cleaning up, he subconsciously touched his cheek. It felt as if it was tingling.
* * *