There’s a cheer as LadyB signals for the first course to be brought in.
Forrest keeps his eyes down as we eat, brows furrowed as if he’s working out some thought of a particularly thorny problem.
“Well,” Lady B says, gesturing for another glass of wine. “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it? Forrest and the feral children in the park. Honestly, Forrest, I thought you were marvellous with them. Not one of them was the slightest bit interested at the start of the day, and then by the end you ‘almost’ had them. Well, some of them, anyway. And then we lost Ava, and then Forrest got lost looking for Ava. Still, it’s rather lovely that you two spent time together, don’t you think? We do like to encourage a spirit of comradeship between our applicants, and I had noticed that you two seem a little at odds, even after your maze adventure.”
“That’s because Forrest is my nemesis,” I say out loud, apparently, as Rani’s mouth has dropped open, and everyone is looking at me again.
Forrest looks up at me, his eyes wide in surprise.
“‘Nemesis’ is such an interesting word, isn’t it?” LadyB goes. “It’s from the ancient Greek, you know, and literally translated means ‘to give what is due.’ And of course Nemesis herself is the goddess of retribution. But answer me this, Ava. How does one know what is due to another if one does not truly know them?”
“’Spose,” I say.
“Well, then perhaps after dinner entertainment will be another chance for you two to see a different side to one another. I’ll arrange for you to travel together.”
“Travel?” I protest. “Where we are going at this time of night? It’s after ten p.m.?”
“Oh, you modern youngens,” Sasha laughs, “you’re all so sensible. It’s bedtime this, teatime that. Well, not these Gen Xers, am I right, love?” She grabs her husband’s thigh. “I’m all for a late night, LadyB. Are we off to the clubs?”
“Nothing quite so noisy,” Lady B says. “But just as exciting, in my view. North Yorkshire is famous for her dark skies, hardly any light pollution at all out here. So, we are taking you all on a star safari tonight. Local astronomers have set up a dozen telescopes, and we are going to have a good look at what’s out there. You’ve got twenty minutes to change into something warm and practical before the golf buggies leave. Bring an extra sweater—it gets cold at night, even in August. Forrest and Ava, you are riding together.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I’ve never been anyone’s nemesis before,” Forrest says, holding on for dear life as the golf buggy rattles off down the gravel track, deep into the wilder grounds of the castle. Our driver is a lad of about eighteen, who leapt behind the wheel with suspicious amounts of enthusiasm.
“Last one there gets the drinks in,” one of his mates hollers, and yes, I am watching a golf buggy do a wheel spin and take off into the night at, I don’t know, twenty miles an hour. I never thought I could feel so unsafe in an electric vehicle.
“Oh, you have,” I assure him, holding on to one of the canopy poles for dear life, while trying to look nonchalant. “People like you always do. You probably just didn’t realise.”
“People like me?” Forrest asks.
“Yes, funny, charming, attractive,” I say.
“Worst insult ever.” Forrest grins.
“I mean, people like you have it easy.” I remember his lost wife. “A lot of the time.”
“I think that’s probably fair.” He nods. “It is true that I haven’tmet many people who are as clear on their feelings about me as you are.”
Our driver, who—judging by his prowess behind the wheel—has ambitions of being a getaway driver, takes a sharp bend in the track way too fast.
“Two wheeler!” He whoops with delight as I slide across the seat and collide into Forrest, who is forced to brace his arms on the back of the kid’s seat to avoid exiting the vehicle completely. For a moment our faces are millimetres apart. I can feel the muscles in his arms tense against my shoulder.
“It’s just thatyouthrew wine onme,” Forrest says once I have scuttled back to my side of the buggy. “And I don’t hold a grudge. Okay, I hold a small grudge, but I’m over it now. I mean, yes, I fundamentally disagree with everything you stand for, and I think AI will result in the end of humanity, but I’ve never had any negative feelings about you personally, Ava. Or not many anyway.”
“Good for you,” I say as the buggy skids to halt in a rough grassy field and the kid jumps out to wave in his friends who are arriving after him, with everyone else. I see Rani and Alex laughing together, and Hal hopping out of his buggy and staring up at the sky in awe.
“Gemma used to say that I was born in the wrong century,” Forrest says, making no effort to get out of the cart, even as everyone else begins to head over to the gate and into the field.
“Gemma was your wife?” I ask. It seems wrong to hurry him when he’s talking about her.
“Yes.” His voice drops a note. “Yes, she thought I was ridiculous too. We met at art college. There was I, still trying to paint like daVinci and Michelangelo, and there she was, building these massive, incredible, abstract installations.” His smile, lit by the dim lights of the other buggies, is broad and full of affection. “Gemma said I should have been born in fifteenth-century Italy, and even after we were married she never changed her mind about that. She was telling me I wasn’t meant for the twenty-first century right up until the day she...”
That frown returns, and Forrest drops his head into shadow.
“For what it’s worth, I am really sorry,” I say. “Sorry that you lost someone you loved so much, and truly sorry that I ruined the shirt she gave you. If Rani can’t fix it, I’ll buy you an identical one. I know it won’t be the same, but then at least maybe your daughter won’t notice the difference.”
“Thank you,” Forrest says. Ahead of us the others are heading off towards the middle of the field where a few lanterns direct the way. “Gemma hand made it, she called it my renaissance man shirt, so... that won’t be possible. But don’t worry, it was a gift to me from her and my daughter, but Artie was only a baby when Gemma passed. She won’t know.”
