Peter sat back and sipped his tea , having decided that he night as well wait and see what Jenny's mother would have to say about renting him a room .

It was fairly obvious that Jenny wanted to talk to him , and it didn't take a lot of heavy thinking to work out what she would want to say . At last she put down the tea towel that she had been wielding much more vigorously than was needed , and started around the corner of the counter . It seemed with that she had at last summoned enough courage to make what would be a strange request to a perfect stranger.

As she opened her mouth to speak , the cafe door burst open and a middle aged , plumpish woman burst in , only just preceded by a rapid fire series of expostulations .

-- Jenny George ! she cried , how many times have I told you that I don't want you having anything to do with that ... that... Robert Jones . Robert indeed ! He's a joke . A policeman called Bobby . Nothing more than a joke ...

Jenny flushed and turned away from Peter's table .

-- Well ? continued her mother , What have you got to say for yourself , girl ?

Peter coughed politely , but did not succeed in attracting the woman's attention . Just as she was about to return to her tirade he stood up , sharply pushing his chair back , scraping it along the floor . The woman's gaze was drawn away from her daughter as she apparently noticed Peter for the first time.

Peter raised a hand in a placatory gesture , and with just a hint of mockery said

-- Mrs George , I presume ?

Mrs George , slightly discomforted by realising that her outburst had taken place in front of a stranger , acknowledged him with a frosty glare .

-- I believe , said Peter , that the constable came in when he saw me here . He wanted to know who I was and what I was doing in the Village.

Jenny flashed him a smile of surprised relief .

-- Well then ... said Mrs George , but was at a loss to go on .

-- Yes , said Peter . I think I was able to satisfy his curiosity .

Mrs George gave an audible snort , but added no comment .

-- Now I suppose I had better be getting along , I have to find somewhere to stay for a while .

He swung his knapsack onto his shoulder and started to the door . As he reached to push it open , he paused , and as if the thought had just occurred to him , he turned and asked the women

-- I don't suppose you ladies would know of someone who has a room available ?

Jenny looked inquiringly at her mother .

-- Er , mum...

But before she could speak further Mrs George broke into a broad smile .

-- Well , as it happens we have a spare room at the moment .

She turned back to Jenny.

-- Jenny , take Mr .... ?

-- Jack , Peter Jack.

-- Take Mr Jack and show him the room . It shouldn't take long . I'll look after things here till you get back . With Mr Jack as well , of course . if he likes the room .

Peter held the door open as Jenny passed through and began to walk down the street. As soon as he caught up with her , she gave him a grateful smile and said

-- Thanks for that .

She stopped for a moment and faced him squarely.

-- I'm fond of Bob , and he's ... I think he's fond of me ....

Peter could see that she wanted to use the word love but was reluctant to say it outright.

-- Mum has had a long fight with Bob's family. She doesn't want me to have anything to do with him.

Peter smiled encouragingly .

-- The course of true love...... he did not finish the quotation as Jenny strode ahead , embarrassed.

No more was said until they turned off the main street , passed down a short tree lined road and came to a cottage set back behind a pleasant garden .

-- Here we are , said Jenny and led him through the gate in the white picket fence .

While she fumbled , slightly nervously , with the key , Peter stood on the neat path and looked around him.