Ruby led the Whitcombe's to a special table in the dining room with a view across the golf course water hazard, where ducks paddled to and fro, bobbing occasionally to the amusement of the diners.

"We have fresh Pickerel with a local vegetable medley on special tonight." She left them with a menu each and their drink order.

"I don't want fish." Malcolm frowned.

"You don't have to have it, dear." Elizabeth scanned the dining room, her gaze slowing as it passed over a corner booth with two couples. "Isn't that the Heston and Pool couples?"

"What? Where?"

"The corner booth." She peered closer.

"They're members as well, but don't suggest joining them, I'm not—"

"Malcolm, they were in the holiday pictures too – and not as smiling happy couples. Actually, more like scandalous."

Ruby arrived with their drinks, and leaned down when beckoned by Elizabeth.

"This is just curiosity, my dear, nothing salacious, but weren't our friends over there in," she fanned her face with her fingers, "compromising relationships?"

"I don't think it's my place to discuss members, Mrs.Whitcombe."

"Good thing too," Malcolm said gruffly, tasting his drink.

"It's nothing that wasn't already in the paper," Elizabeth protested."

"Still, member privacy is a club policy, ma'am." Ruby straightened up, smiling politely.

The designation wasn't lost on, Elizabeth, and she smiled stiffly, dropping the subject.

"I'll have the lamb, dear, thank you."

"Mister Whitcombe?" Ruby accepted his menu.

"I'll have the fish."

She left the table, shoulders shaking from a repressed giggle. Elizabeth stared at her husband then just rolled her eyes. Malcolm sniffed and gulped down his drink.

******

"Crap, it's the Whitcombes." Sean held a hand beside his face.

"Don't look at them, maybe they won't notice." Clive lifted his menu up.

"That's all I need, Elizabeth Whitcombe spreading gossip all over town." Wilma crabbed.

"Well I'm not afraid to be seen in public. What's so special about you?' Olivia huffed."

"Ask your husband," Wilma shot back, unerringly.

"Whoa, shhh, we're trying to resolve an old problem not create a new one." Sean shifted so his back was more toward the room.

Clive was gripping Olivia's hand hold on her glass, afraid she would slosh it in Wilma's face.

"Sean's right. Let's get back to the bigger reason we agreed to meet here."

"I'm not agreeing to anything with her." Wilma slammed back in the booth, arms crossed.

"Fine! I don't want anything to do with you anyway."

"Can you keep it down, for God's sake." Sean pleaded.

"Oh, you mean like you did with that—"

"Wilma! Christ, will you shut up for once." Sean hissed, turning his back to the room even more.

"Look, maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Clive squeezed his temples.

"Don't you bail on me now, Pool. We need to get this resolved."

"Do you see a resolution happening with these two?"

Olivia jerked her hand free. "I'll give you a resolution. Give me a divorce and you can do what you like with – others." Her stony face settled on Wilma.

"Liv, divorce isn't the answer."

"Maybe not for you, Clive." She snapped. "What the hell was the attraction anyway?" Her eyes duelled with Wilma's.

He sat back and rubbed his face. "It was the mystery if you must know. The mystery and the thrill of danger." His face seemed to seize over their reaction, and he quickly gulped his drink.

"You thought I was mysterious?" Wilma asked, surprised, "and dangerous."

He heaved a defeated sigh.

"What about you, Sean?" Wilma faced her husband.

"Honestly? I think it was the tantalizing fear of discovery."

Wilma looked at Olivia, mirroring her shocked expression. "Did you know any of this?"

"Actually," Olivia's face flushed visibly even in the darkened corner, "it did provide a frightening thrill . . . you?"

"Uh, I- I don't- well, come to think of it—"

Sean held up his hands. "There's our solution! We just leave things the way they were and enjoy the risk of discovery."

"But we know now, where's the risk?" Olivia prodded with barely restrained enthusiasm.

"A penalty. We'll draw up a list of penalties for getting caught." He sat forward, forgetting about the Whitcombes.

"This is nuts." Clive sat shaking his head.

"Oh, really? What happened to the mystery, Clive?" Wilma enquired ominously. "How about a penalty for not taking part?"

The volume of the discussion rose as arguments, threats and opinions flew across the table like darts. Elizabeth paused cutting her lamb to turn and look pointedly at the group. Ruby made her way to the booth, one delicate hand indicating the other diners, and suggesting dining decorum.

"I think you should have a word with them, Malcolm. The town doesn't need more scandal." Elizabeth continued eating.

"Yes, next time I see them," he nodded. "This fish is damned good."

******

Ted was in the living room watching TV and Jill sat at the kitchen table, dejectedly reading through résumés from care givers. She knew Roy was right about getting help. Her life was going by faster as she grew older, without any of the experiences or adventures she should be having. But after her mom passed, she was all her dad had to care for him.

She sat back and her eyes fell on the bank book. She picked it up and opened it. A soft moan escaped her lips as she read the amount. There was more than enough to provide for her father and let her enjoy some life of her own. She separated the résumés and read through the few she had filtered out, finally holding up one and making a silent decision.

"I've made a decision," she said into the phone, "would you come while I take the interview?"

"Sure, if you think it'll help. When?"

"It'll help me, Roy. I'll call you back when it's set up. I really need you here when I tell dad."

"No problem. It's the right thing, Jill. You aren't giving up on him you know. You're going to make it better for both of you if you can share the load."

"I hope so . . ."

"I know. It's hard. But you aren't deserting him, Jill, it's a step you need to take so you don't burn out. Call me when you have the meet set up, I'll be there, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Roy."

He sagged back, looking at the phone. Thanks Roy? God, he'd run over broken glass for the woman.

Jill picked up the phone again and dialled the number on the résumé she had chosen. I'll be there, she repeated his words. "You don't know how much I needed that," she said aloud.

******

Dorothy sat across from Wilfred in his office, a small room above Horton's grocery store. It was a testament to Wilfred's somewhat parsimonious view on surplus business furnishings. A small desk. A four drawer filing cabinet. A single chair for clients, and a waste basket.

"You were going to have a talk with Ebony Witherspoon." Her statement came out like a commandment.

"If you hadn't noticed, I was ambushed in my home by a band of middle-aged, angry swingers. Ebony Witherspoon was not top of mind."

"No, but Esther Leeds should be. She's a wonderful librarian and the town needs her in that post."

"Dorothy, Ebony can't fire Esther. The library is a municipal responsibility. Larger communities grant broader powers to library boards, but here in Aurora Hills, our council has the last say on finances, human resources, and content, subject of course to debate."

"Well why didn't you say that in the first place? She's such a lovely girl."

Wilfred drew back slightly. "Your lovely girl has a dark side, Dorothy – don't be judging any library employees by their covers."