I hung my head.
‘Yes. Stunning.’
‘Shame she’s as hard through and through as the gold she seems to like so much.’ I looked up at him in surprise. He was looking at me intently, unsmiling. ‘I prefer something softer. You look good in velvet.’
‘Th-thank you. I, er, Daphne helped me.’
‘Good. I like Daphne. I’ll like her as a stepmother.’
‘Oh! Are she and William getting married?’
‘Not that they’ve told me, but I think it’s inevitable, don’t you?’
‘That would be lovely. Do you mind?’
‘No. I miss my mother, of course, every day, but I’m glad that Dad has found happiness with someone so nice. God, how long has this party been going on? Is it five or six hours?’
I laughed.
‘About twenty minutes. Don’t you know all these people? Didn’t you invite them?’
‘No, I did not. Bunny comes down a few times a year and seems to manage to be bosom buddies with everyone within a five-mile radius. It’s her party really, not mine. Oh look, isn’t that your friend over there?’
I glanced across the room to see Timothy desperately trying to engage Zara in conversation. She was bestowing the occasional smile on him, but mostly scanning the room, presumably in the hope of finding someone more interesting to dazzle.
‘Yes, that’s Timothy.’
‘Are you going to accept his proposal?’
I looked straight into Lando’s eyes and felt a lurch of adrenaline.
‘Doyouthink I should?’
He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by both twins suddenly barrelling past him, shrieking at the tops of their voices: ‘Daddy!’
We turned to see Ben standing in the doorway, looking tired but much happier than he had the last time I had met him. He swept them both up in his arms and hugged them to him, then, as they slithered down and ran back to their card game, cast his eyes around until he saw Bunny, who was standing awkwardly by a table, putting her orange juice down then picking it up again. He strode over to her, took the glass away and gathered her into his embrace, burying his face in her neck. They stood there for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the people all around them who were watching with great interest. All except Zara, who was still yakking away to Timothy, who hung on her every word. Eventually Bunny extracted herself and looked around.
‘Sorry, everyone, as you were,’ she said, slightly shakily, then took Ben’s hand and led him from the room.
‘Gosh, I wonder what that was all about?’ said Lavinia, who had appeared at my side.
‘I don’t know, but hopefully it means a happy Christmas for all of them,’ I said, looking after Lando as he was buttonholed by one of his neighbours, and realising he wasn’t going to be able to answer my question any time soon. ‘Come on, let’s go and get something to eat.’
We wandered over and started filling our plates with the delicious offerings. I was just pointing out my piping to Lavinia, when a warm hand landed on my shoulder. Full of hope, I turned with a smile on my face, only to see Timothy standing there. I wanted to cry; proof enough, if I needed any more, that I should definitelynotbe marrying him, no matter how many gallons of water had flowed under that particular bridge.
‘Pen.’ Oh dear, I knew that pettish tone. I was definitely going to be told off. ‘I think you’ve been avoiding me, and that makes me very sad.’
‘I’m sorry, Timothy, I haven’t really, but I don’t think this party is really the right time to talk. Anyway, you’ve seemed to be keener to chat to Zara than me.’ I wished the words away the moment they had come out of my mouth. Timothy smiled.
‘She is very charming, and I only wanted to get to know the family you’re staying with. As it seems she’s about to get back together with Lando Lord, I rather thought that included her. Iamsorry if it made you feel jealous, there’s really no need, old thing. After all, you’re the one I came all this way for.’
I felt an unusual rage rising in my chest, and was formulating a reply when Lavinia, who Timothy had rudely had his back to throughout this interchange, tapped him on the shoulder. He turned his head and looked up at her.
‘Yes?’
‘I’mfrightfullysorry, but I’ve accidentally smeared something – well, actually, it’s fish paste – all over the back of thatlovelysweater. I’m sure it’ll come out all right – man-made fabrics aresomuch easier to clean than wool, aren’t they? But I’d probably go and change – or give it a rinse at least – before you start to pong.’
I shrugged helplessly, fighting back hysterics, as Timothy gesticulated frantically at me, his face suffused with magenta, then rushed wordlessly away.
