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To her surprise, he answered immediately. “Summer! How lovely to hear from you, my dear.”
His voice was full of genuine warmth.
“You’ve heard the news, of course?”
“Of course. How is she?”
“Believe it or not, she’s in the pink,” Teddy said cheerfully. “The doctors say she’ll be able to come home in a day or so. Better yet, she and Roxie finally seem to have patched things up.”
“They have?” Summer couldn’t hide her surprise.
“I know. Wonderful, isn’t it? I think the prospect of Alexia actually dying was what made things shift. Anyway, Rox showed up at the hospital and the pair of them have been thick as thieves ever since. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. That bastard Drake might have actually done us all a favor. But enough of our dramas. How are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m in London, actually, just for tonight.”
“Are you? Marvelous. We must have lunch tomorrow.”
“Oh, no no no,” Summer said hastily. “I wouldn’t want to intrude at a time like this. You should be with your family.”
“Nonsense. You are family,” Teddy said kindly. “Besides, Alexia and Roxie only have eyes for each other at the moment. They barely know I’m there.”
“Honestly, Teddy, it’s a sweet offer, but I couldn’t.”
“Nonsense. Lunch tomorrow, twelve-thirty sharp. I insist. I’ll book somewhere decent and let you know.”
Teddy took her to the Arts Club in Mayfair. Completely revamped a few years earlier, the Dover Street town house was now one of the smartest, most exclusive members’ clubs in London. Unfortunately it no longer lived up to its name, its clientele being made up almost wholly of investment bankers and hedge fund types. Summer felt their lecherous stares on her back as she made her way to Teddy’s table.
“What a pleasure!” He stood up to greet her, looking like a disheveled Rupert Bear in a loud tweed suit and waistcoat, a jaunty red silk cravat tied at his neck. “You look delightful, as ever.”
“If I’d known it was so formal, I’d have dressed up,” said Summer, feeling awkwardly low-key in her Hudson corduroy jeans and dark green Gap T-shirt. Although after the shocking news she’d received last night, the Arts Club’s dress code had been the last thing on her mind this morning.
“I’d have been just as happy in McDonald’s, you know,” she told Teddy.
“McDonald’s?” Teddy shuddered. “I should hope I know how to treat a young lady a bit better than that.”
They ordered food—salt-encrusted sea bass for Summer and a steak and kidney pie for Teddy—and conversation turned to Alexia and the shooting.
“Isn’t it funny how often good things seem to come out of bad?” Teddy observed philosophically. “Like phoenixes rising from the ashes. I’d almost given up hope that Alexia and Roxie would ever reconcile. It’s a shame it took a bullet in the ribs to do it, but there you are. And that’s not the only positive change. On doctors’ orders, Alexia has finally agreed to take some time off work. She’s talking about flying out to the States and spending some time with your mother, actually.”
“That’s nice,” said Summer, more because it was expected of her than because it was what she really felt. Her mom’s close friendship with Alexia still made her uncomfortable, but she could hardly say that to Teddy.
“It is nice,” Teddy agreed, smiling. “Alexia’s been through so much this past year. First, Michael and now this.”
“Hmm.” Summer chased her fish around the plate with her fork. Obviously she wouldn’t wish an assassination attempt on anyone. But she didn’t find it so easy to forgive and forget Alexia’s neglect of Michael, or the callous way she’d behaved since his crash.
“The problem is she’s so very bad at saying no, especially when it comes to her work,” Teddy went on. “My wife has such a strong sense of duty, you see. Of public service. Not very fashionable these days, but there you have it. Alexia never thinks of herself.”
Summer almost choked. “Uh-huh.” Is he really that deluded? Did the bullet ricochet off Alexia’s rib cage and lodge itself in Teddy’s brain?
“Anyway, enough about my family. What about you?” Teddy went on. “What brings you to London? Culture or shopping?”
“Neither, actually. I’ve been looking into something.”
Summer told Teddy about Michael’s motorbike and her mission to the Walthamstow garage. A cloud descended over Teddy’s kindly features.
“Do you think that’s wise, my dear? Tinkering around with the ghastly thing?”
“Why not?”
