‘I’m going to open some champagne,’ said Rousseau. ‘I’ll go and get it, if that’s what you’d like, darling?’
She nodded shyly, and Rousseau whirled out of the room. There was another silence as everyone looked at each other, or the dogs, or the floor. Léo stood up.
‘Sindhu, come and sit down, try one of our canapés and tell us how you met Rousseau. I think we are all surprised he has managed to keep you a secret: we find such things difficult around here.’
‘Thank you, they smell delicious. We met through art, which probably won’t surprise you, but originally about a hundred years ago when we were students. We didn’t know each other well, but we still have mutual friends and one of them had a party a few months ago. And here we are.’
She popped the canapé in her mouth, and her eyes darted around the room, betraying a nervousness she didn’t show in any other way.
‘What sort of artist are you?’ asked Martha.
‘I used to be a sculptor, working mainly with marble, but in recent years I moved into making jewellery – beaded pieces but also silver. This is all mine.’
‘It’s lovely,’ said Martha, going over to look more closely. ‘Do you work with silver clay or sheet silver?’
‘It depends on what I’m making,’ replied Sindhu, and Martha sat down next to her to continue the discussion.
Juliet glanced around at the others, wondering what they were thinking. Will and Léo were talking earnestly about chimneys or something equally boring, so she disregarded them. Martha was now engaged in conversation with Sindhu about her jewellery as Sylvia listened in, and was as warm and welcoming as only Martha, of all the family, could be. Actually, thought Juliet, she was most like Rousseau in that respect; although she didn’t have his confidence, they shared the same open, all-embracing manner that made everyone feel at home. Her glance moved to Frankie, who was now slouching against the bookcase by the cocktail trolley tapping away at her phone. Juliet was surprised to see that, rather than revelling in this new piece of super-gossip, she instead looked cross and upset. She went over.
‘Hey, Frank, you all right?’
She did not look up from the little screen.
‘Frankie? What’s up? You look furious.’
‘Oh, it’s bloody Dad. He’s such an egoist, making a fuss about hismystery guest,then producing a girlfriend. I mean, whocares?’
She spat out the last word with such vitriol that Juliet took a step back.
‘You obviously do.’
‘And you obviously don’t. Mum’s only been dead a year, he didn’t hang about.’
Juliet shrugged.
‘I had a completely different relationship with Mum from you. Sindhu doesn’t bother me in the least. And don’t make the mistake of letting her botheryou. You can’t stop him being with someone, it’ll only make trouble.’
‘Oh, haven’tyougot all wise now you’re loved up with Léo?’ said Frankie sarcastically. ‘Live and let live, is it, Juliet? I never thought I’d see the dayyoustopped fighting. I don’t believe it for a second. Oh, sod this, I’m going out.’
She flung herself out of the room, nearly colliding with Rousseau returning with the champagne. He called after her, but the only response he received was the slamming of the front door. He looked at Juliet questioningly, but she had no intention of explaining Frankie’s sudden departure.
‘You’ve got the champagne, lovely. Shall I get some glasses? We’ve all finished our cocktails, so why don’t we drink to the two of you?’
They toasted the happy couple and, as everyone started chatting again, Martha came over.
‘What happened with Frankie? She doesn’t normally disappear so quickly when there’s champagne on offer.’
Juliet glanced around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. No, Will and Léo had resumed their boring conversation and Sindhu was talking to Rousseau and Sylvia.
‘She’s upset that Dad’s got a new girlfriend.’
‘Frankieis?’
‘I know. But she was the closest to Mum of all of us, so I suppose it makes sense. What about you? How do you feel about it?’
Martha glanced across the room.
‘Look, I’m happy for him – for them. You know me, I love love, I just can’t seem to find it for myself. But I am worried about the memorial service. Do you think he’ll invite her?’
