‘I must say,’ said Alexander, taking another sip, ‘I’m amazed that it tastes this good. I think we’re on to something here, Fallon. It was a very good day for us, when you arrived at Blakeney Hall. You’ve pushed my ideas for the business beyond what Hetty and I had ever imagined, but it’s what you’ve done for Theo…’
He trailed off, his voice full of emotion, and looked down into his glass. Relaxed by the drink, for once I didn’t make a joke, or change the subject, or jump up and start looking anywhere but at him. Instead, I sat quietly and waited until he was ready to continue.
‘I know you don’t think you’ve done much, but it’s not just the bird sanctuary, although that was inspired. There’s something about the way you are with him, the way you talk to him and share Runcible…He’s responding to you in a way I haven’t seen before, and certainly not with the Annabels of this world, who try to coddle him and look at him with pity for the poor little motherless boy with his awkward father.’
‘Well, maybe that’s because that’s not how I see him,’ I said, having another sip of my delicious drink. ‘Obviously he’s experienced trauma, and you’ve been open about some of his struggles with school and friends and so on, but he strikes me as having a sweet, kind, empathetic nature – particularly with animals – and he has you and Douglas looking after him. He doesn’t seem to me to be lacking anything, but I suppose my view of families and parenting might not be quite the same as Annabel’s.’
‘And that’s what he senses,’ said Alexander, his voice full of emotion. ‘Your acceptance. You don’t have one view of how things should be and try to force things into fitting that. You accept that there is more than one way to do things. To you that may seem normal, but believe me, it is rare and very special.’
He held my gaze and, try as I might, I couldn’t drag my eyes away. My head spun and it had nothing to do with the gin; the more I looked at him, the more I happily drowned and made none of my usual efforts to strike out for the safety of the surface. He reached across the small table and took my hand, which lay on the smooth leather arm of the chair. As if they were separate from the rest of me, my fingers turned to lace themselves between his, and he rubbed his thumb gently against my hand. Every part of my body was now yearning to be closer to him, to be held, to be kissed, and surely that would have been what happened next, had the door to the oratory not opened fractionally, and a little figure slipped in, breaking the mood.
‘Runcible!’ I gasped, laughing. ‘How did you find us?’ I scooped her onto my lap and kissed her balding head. ‘That must mean Theo has gone to bed then.’
‘Your tiny chaperone,’ said Alexander, grinning ruefully. ‘Ah well, at least she won’t stop us having another drink. Shall we try the sweet chestnut syrup this time?’
‘Why not?’ I said, holding out my glass, then settling into my chair to enjoy the rest of an evening that remained chaste, but with a spark in the atmosphere that put more of a spring in my step when I eventually went upstairs to bed than any of Mum’s wellness solutions had so far managed.
FIFTEEN
The next morning, I woke early, dressed quickly and took Runcible out for a run before anyone else was up – other than Coco, of course, who seemed to keep the most bizarre hours, yet never appear tired. I greeted her, then togged up and went outside. I breathed in the misty morning air and decided to take the path down to see Heathcliff the donkey, thinking as I went how I was already getting used to being here: the cold, yes, but also the peace and stillness, the mere idea of which would have sent me into a panic when I was in the whirl of my busy life in London.Ah well, I thought, it will probably wear off soon, and I’ll be glad to get back to the capital and the buzz of work. The donkey was out of his cosy shelter and came over to see us. I rubbed his head and ears and smiled when he bent low to gently greet Runcible.
‘Sorry I haven’t got anything for you,’ I said to him, ‘but I’m sure Theo or Constance or Alexander will be along soon enough with your breakfast.’
Alexander. He had entered my dreams more than once last night, and memories of the intense gaze between us, the intertwined fingers, the delicious contemplation of what might have happened next, came flooding back and with it a flush ofheat to my face that was welcome on that freezing morning. As we turned to go back to the house, I hoped fervently that Mum wouldn’t notice if there was any change in atmosphere between Alexander and me. She had a tendency to be remarkably observant over things you would prefer that she missed – whether you were eating or not eating, if you liked someone or had had a falling out with them, if your skin looked bad. Whereas you could be having a proper crisis over something serious, and she would sail on, oblivious. Or maybe it was just what she chose to bring attention to, rather than the thing itself; for all her declared wisdom and life experience, she has always found it challenging to talk about the important things, those that couldn’t be fixed with a face cream, cocktail or magazine multiple choice quiz. I sighed. Oh well, maybe I would manage to lie low and avoid her embarrassing comments and attempts to winkle out the truth. There was also always a chance that the electricity that had crackled between Alexander and me last night would have fizzled out by now, so there would be nothing to notice anyway.Let’s hope that’s the case, I told myself unconvincingly as we approached the house; any entanglement with Alexander would be at best fun, but pointless. We both knew that.
I gave Runcible her breakfast, then helped Coco take through some trays to the Buttery. Everyone was there and I risked a glance at Alexander, who gave me a warm and spine-tingling smile that nearly made me drop what I was carrying.Okay, so no fizzling out, I thought, sneaking a sideways glance at Mum to see if she had noticed and was arching an eyebrow already. But no, to my relief, she was too busy gazing at Douglas like a lovesick puppy. I slid quietly into my chair and was just offeringConstance some coffee when Douglas stood up. He cleared his throat.
‘Er, good morning, everyone.’
We all returned a muttered ‘good morning’ and he continued:
‘I – that is, Jacqueline and I – are delighted to tell you that as of last night we are engaged to be married.’
That woke us all up, and we clapped and offered our congratulations as the happy couple beamed. Mum drew her left hand out from underneath the table and showed us the ring, which was huge but very pretty with an oval-shaped diamond in the middle, surrounded by smaller, pink stones.
‘They’re pink sapphires,’ gushed Mum, making sure we all had a good look. ‘Isn’t it wonderfully thoughtful of Douglas? I think I’ll have to speak to Alan atMayfair Mewsand ask him to write in an engagement for Ophelia.’ She broke off and turned to Theo. ‘That’s the name of the character I play. I don’t think I can bear ever to take it off.’
‘What number engagement will that be for Ophelia?’ I asked, grinning. ‘Seven, eight, nine?’
Mum shot me a look across the table.
‘She’s a very desirable and passionate woman. And this may bemyfirst engagement, darling, but only because it’s the first proposalof manythat I have accepted.’ Now came the head tilt, and I braced myself. ‘How many have you racked up, darling?’
I briefly toyed with the idea of inventing a proposal or two – after all, she had been so uninvolved in my life that I could easily have had hordes of suitors of whom she was ignorant – but decided that the truth was good enough for me.
‘None, Mum, and that’s fine by me. But I’m so happy for you and Douglas. I suppose it’s too soon to talk about dates and venues and so on?’
I have had a great deal of practice in deflecting attention from myself onto Mum and it worked like a charm, as always.
‘Well, we haven’t gotquiteso far as picking a date or a venue yet, but we would like to celebrate our happy news as soon as possible. We thought that we could squeeze in an engagement party between the Nativity and the Christmas Fayre. I know everyone’s frightfully busy, but I’m sure you could all make an exception for something so special.’
I frowned, confused by her wording.
‘What do you mean?’
She glanced at Douglas, who had the grace to look guilty but didn’t have a chance to speak as she fired up her steamroller again.
‘Well, the thing is, darling, the people who normally do Douglas’s parties – who did the marvellous Bond one – are chock-a-block. So, I –we– thought you wouldn’t mind putting something together? It won’t be huge, only about fifty people, and obviously we’ll do it here, so that’s the venue sorted,’ she added brightly.
