Standing Strong by Fiona McCallum Page B

client. That’s against the rules.’ She chose her words very carefully and was sure she hadn’t actually lied. She’d left out the word sexual – no need to get into specifics or be crass.
    â€˜But if the person was vulnerable – because that’s why they’d be seeing you in the first place …’ the woman persisted.
    But Mrs Bishop had clearly run a few meetings in her time and dealt with pesky types and curly questions before – and for all Jacqueline knew, this woman might be a serial pest at these sorts of events – and she shut proceedings down quick smart.
    â€˜You’re welcome to discuss it privately with Ms Havelock. There are stacks of her business cards on the supper tables with her contact details on. And now let’s show our appreciation to Ms Havelock for giving up her evening to come along and give us the benefit of her expertise. I know I’ve got a lot out of it and will be taking extra care to listen to my inner voice in the hope I get fewer kicks in the butt from hindsight. Thank you very much, Ms Havelock,’ she said, smiling warmly at Jacqueline and handing her a bottle of wine wrapped in cellophane. She then led the crowd in a round of applause.
    Phew. And bless you, Jacqueline thought, as she dipped her head and mouthed, ‘Thank you,’ through the noise.
    â€˜And now, supper is served out in the supper room,’ Mrs Bishop said, when the noise had subsided and the clapping had been replaced with chatter. Jacqueline exited the stage with Mrs Bishop, who left her in Ethel’s capable hands while she went to double-check all was well with supper.
    â€˜God, can you believe that question at the end?’ Jacqueline hissed.
    â€˜It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,’ Ethel said. ‘Just continue to put on a brave front, smile, and mingle. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.’ Ethel squeezed her elbow reassuringly.
    Jacqueline wished she could muster Ethel’s confidence. Everything had been going so well until that last question. Oh, well, nothing she could do about it. If the woman caused her further grief, she’d deal with it. She squared her shoulders and entered the sea of people balancing cups of tea and plates of cake. She accepted a cup and an empty plate just as she was swallowed into her first small group of people. She slid the plate under her saucer – it wouldn’t feel quite right eating while she was talking.
    Jacqueline was exhausted when she finally collapsed into the passenger’s seat of Ethel’s car and accepted the paper plate of goodies covered in cling wrap. ‘Yum,’ she said, grabbing a cream cake. She wasn’t hungry by any stretch, thanks to the milkshake still sitting in her stomach, but the cake was too irresistible. Thank goodness she hadn’t encountered the lady with the curly question again. She suspected Ethel might have had something to do with that. She stayed silent and let Ethel concentrate on driving until she could hold her tongue no longer.
    â€˜God, Ethel, fancy that lady asking that. Do you think she’ll dob me in?’
    â€˜No. I know she won’t dob you in.’
    â€˜How can you be so sure?’
    â€˜I spoke to her.’
    â€˜Oh no, you didn’t.’ Jacqueline knew only too well that when it came to human nature, reverse psychology was a powerful thing. If Ethel had warned the woman to leave it alone, then chances were she would wonder about all the fuss and pursue it with vigour when she might otherwise have dropped it.
    â€˜Don’t worry. I didn’t warn her off, or anything. Just explained that Damien was my nephew and that he had called off the relationship with you because he was too busy with his new venture. She seemed to accept it and that there was nothing untoward going on. Thankfully she’d heard of Esperance Animal Welfare Farm. So, you have nothing to worry about with her – of