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rejoinder.
    ‘Your sister is very much married in the eyes of God, the Church, the congregation, and, from the look in his eyes, I’d say her husband,’ Peter commented lightly.
    ‘“Those whom God has joined together let no man break asunder,”’ Maggie quoted dreamily, gazing at Peter.
    Edyth had never wanted to slap Maggie so much or so hard. But before she had time to collect her thoughts, David materialized in front of her, like the genie of Arabian legend. She only wished she could cork him into a bottle and push him out of sight.
    ‘You promised me a dance, Edyth,’ he reminded, ‘and Toby’s asked them to play “The Charleston” next.’
    ‘Edyth and David look so good together on the dance floor. People say they should be on stage. But then, being a vicar, I don’t suppose you go to the theatre?’ Maggie whispered to Peter, although she took care to speak loud enough for Edyth to hear.
    ‘I enjoy shows and concerts, Miss Evans. Only last month I saw Showboat in Llanelli.’
    Edyth suspected that if she refused David his dance, he’d pout and she’d run the risk of Peter assuming that he was her boyfriend. But if she agreed, she suspected that Maggie or – more likely after the way her sister had behaved – another girl would drag Peter away on some pretext or other to a quiet corner of the house or gardens where she’d have difficulty tracking him down.
    ‘Edyth?’ David prompted.
    ‘Could we dance later, please, David? I’ve just eaten the most enormous meal.’
    ‘You ate hardly anything, Edyth. Besides, it’s never stopped you before,’ Maggie observed snidely.
    ‘Come on, Edyth, it’s “The Charleston”,’ David reiterated. The dancers finished applauding ‘What is This Thing Called Love?’, the band took a few seconds’ break and Micah Holsten played a solo opening.
    Edyth gritted her teeth and smiled at Peter. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Peter, I’ll be right back.’
    ‘Of course, Edyth,’ He returned her smile. ‘And if the band plays something slower and more my style later, perhaps you’ll save me a dance?’
    ‘I’d be delighted.’
    ‘Something slower and more my style!’ David mocked as soon as they were out of Peter’s earshot. ‘The Reverend doesn’t look much older than me.’ He led the way to the wooden platform Lloyd had hired from the Town Hall and set up on the lawn as a dance floor.
    ‘He is a curate.’ Edyth sprang to Peter Slater’s defence.
    ‘So what?’ David demanded.
    ‘Vicars and curates can’t be seen doing anything improper by their parishioners.’
    ‘Like this?’ David pulled her into the centre of the group of dancers. Normally Edyth set the pace when she partnered David, kicking her legs wide without a care as to whether her skirts flew up or not. But conscious of Peter Slater sitting a few feet away from them, half hoping and half concerned that he was watching, for the first time in her life, she tried to dance sedately, or at least as sedately as ‘The Charleston’ allowed.
    ‘You’re not feeling well, Edyth?’ David pitched his voice above the applause when the band stopped playing.
    ‘I told you, I’ve just eaten an enormous meal.’
    ‘The food was good, wasn’t it? But then it would be with your mother and Mari in charge.’ David grabbed her hand again as the band started playing the newest hit to cross the Atlantic, ‘Dance of the Jungle’. Waving one of his hands high in the air, he grabbed her hand with the other and danced in a circle around her.
    Edyth glanced over her shoulder towards the top table. Just as she’d suspected, Peter Slater and her sister Maggie were nowhere to be seen. ‘The monster!’ she hissed furiously.
    ‘Pardon?’ David bent his head close to hers.
    ‘Nothing.’ After making sure Peter was nowhere in sight, she began to dance as if she were auditioning for a chorus line.
    When she finally managed to escape from David, Edyth made frequent and unsuccessful forays into the