‘You don’t like him?’
‘No. I don’t think he’s good enough for Mum, he doesn’t treat her kindly. Just because she’s a bit scatty and gets lost in her gardening, then panics about doing enough for everybody. Obviously, I never met Nick’s father, but he sounds horrible, too. I think she’s got pretty bad taste in men.’
‘She must see something in him, if she’s going to marry him.’
‘I think she’s convinced herself that it’s the best thing for me. He has lots of horses and of course I’d love to be amongst all that, but I’d never want her to sacrifice herself for me. I’m happy here, but I think Mum’s worried that Nick’s going to sell, although he’d see right by us, I know he would.’
I didn’t mention the conversation I had been there for in the kitchen earlier, when Nick had indeed announced his intention to sell Lyonscroft.
‘I’m sure he would,’ I said, although I wasn’t at all sure how loyal he would be to the family he didn’t seem to believe loved him. ‘Do you see your father?’
She nodded.
‘Yes, sometimes, although he’s often away with work. He’s horsey, like me, but he stopped riding a few years ago after an accident. Now, he photographs horses.’
‘What, like portraits?’ I asked in surprise.
India grinned.
‘Sometimes, but mostly he takes pictures of them in action. He’s at all the big events: the Olympics, the Horse of the Year show, important races all over the world. He does reportage stuff as well, taking pictures behind the scenes; people trust him.’
‘It sounds very interesting,’ I said in a neutral voice, sensing that there was more to this story than India had indicated. For a moment, we stood in silence, looking at the glistening pool, then she spoke.
‘It is. I’ve gone with him once or twice, but I don’t like leaving Mum on her own. She knows that and I think it’s another reason she’s marrying Philip, so that she’s not a burden to me. But she’s not!’ She turned her face to me, as if imploring me to believe her. ‘We want each other to be happy so much that we end up doing or not doing things to try and help, and then neither of us gets what we want. It’s so stupid. If only…’
I waited without interrupting or prompting for her to carry on. I knew all about ‘if onlys’ and ‘might have beens’ and how they can make you feel stuck in life. She darted another look at me and continued.
‘If only Mum and Dad had made it work when I was born. They did the same thing,Ithink: tried to do what they thought the other one wanted, and I don’t think either ended up happy.’ With a sudden movement she turned away, but not before I had seen the tears in her eyes. ‘I’m going for a ride,’ she said abruptly, and strode out of the pool room, leaving me staring at the blue waters and trying not to think too much about my own life and what it might be like nowif onlyI could have saved Paulo.
SIX
I spent the next couple of hours completing some paperwork – I have to keep detailed records on my patients – and finding out where other things I would need in the house were. There was a utility room off the kitchen, and I was familiarising myself with the washing machine when I looked out of the window and saw Astrid in the garden, staring at some roses – all stalks now, of course – a pair of secateurs in her hand. She hadn’t put anything on over her clothes and despite the cardigan, I thought she must be freezing. Various coats were hanging by a door that led outside, so I pulled one on and grabbed another for her, then opened the door and stepped out, the dank November air immediately wrapping itself around me and inserting its cold fingers down my collar and up my sleeves. Astrid didn’t seem to notice my approach, so I coughed and stamped a little as I drew nearer, hoping not to startle her, but she still did not turn until I said her name, and then she did so with a jump.
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, but I saw you out here and thought you might be cold.’
I held out the coat, which she stared at in bewilderment, not seeming to know what it was or what to do with it. I shook itout and draped it over her shoulders; only then did she draw it around herself and give me a half-smile.
‘Oh, thank you, yes, gosh, I hadn’t noticed, but I’m freezing. Do you think these roses need trimming?’
I looked at them doubtfully. I knew nothing about gardening, but it didn’t feel helpful to announce that right now.
‘No,’ I said, sounding as confident as I could. ‘They’re just right. Why don’t we go inside? We need to start getting ready for the party.’
‘Oh, yes, all right,’ said Astrid vaguely, and followed me back into the utility room, where we removed our coats.
‘Is everything all right?’ I asked casually, going back into the kitchen. ‘Only you looked kind of worried out there.’
That was putting it mildly.
She turned to me and tried to smile.
‘Yes, I’m worried about absolutely everything, but so glad to have you here to help with Marilise. She does need more care now and it was too much for us.’ Her voice took on a slightly wild tone. ‘Now, if you could persuade Nick not to sell Lyonscroft, provide a happy Christmas for Sofia when she arrives, decide on the best choices for India and conjure me up an outfit that won’t embarrass everyone for this evening, that would be ideal.’
She pushed her hands into her hair and bared her teeth in what was supposed to be a smile but looked to me more like extreme anxiety. I wanted to put my arms around her and reassure her that everything would be okay, but I wasn’t sure how appropriate that would be. Instead, I did what I do best and went practical.
‘As far as I can see, the only thing we can do immediately is work out what to wear this evening. It’s not costumes anymore, but is there a dress code?’
‘No, but it’s the first event of the season locally, so everyone will pull out all the stops. I haven’t bought a new party dresssince about 1997, and I doubt I’d fit into that anymore. Do you think I could wear this?’
