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Ginny got to her feet, trembling. ‘What right have you to judge her—or any of us? My mother was left a widow with two young children, and very little money.’
His mouth twisted cynically. ‘Yet she was a partner in a beauty salon, n’est-ce pas, and could afford to pay for an expensive cruise in the Mediterranean, on which she did not choose to include you or your sister. Incroyable.’
Partner in a beauty salon? Ginny repeated silently, her heart missing a beat. Her mother had been a manicurist. An employee. What was he talking about?
She hastily switched tack. ‘You speak as if my mother abandoned us in the streets,’ she challenged. ‘We actually stayed with my godmother and her husband in Fulham, and had a wonderful time, whereas we’d have been bored stiff on a ship all day long.
‘And Mother was only able to go on the cruise because she won a prize in the National Lottery. Not one of the big ones, of course,’ she added quickly, seeing his brows lift. ‘But it paid for all sorts of things. Besides, she’d had a tough time and she needed a break.’
‘Sans doute.’ His voice was flat. ‘And, at the end of the cruise, quelle surprise, she has a new and wealthy husband.’
Her voice shook. ‘How dare you. What the hell are you implying?’
‘I imply nothing. I state facts. Can you deny that you have ever wondered how it came about—this so convenient marriage?’
‘Of course I deny it. They met and fell in love. That’s all there is to it.’ She gripped the back of her chair with both hands as pain, a strange mixture of hurt and bewilderment, twisted inside her, adding to her shock and confusion. ‘Is this the kind of poison you’ve been feeding to Andrew over the years? Turning him against his own wife? Well, I won’t—I don’t believe a word of it.’
‘A display of family loyalty?’ he countered harshly. ‘A little late for that, I think. And I said nothing to my father. Au contraire, the doubts were all his own. You are not a fool, Virginie, so ask yourself why.’
He drained his cup and rose, dropping a handful of pound coins on the table. ‘But your coffee is excellent,’ he added, and walked out.
She wanted to fling the money after him, but her awareness of the watchers in the kitchen prevented her.
She put the payment for the coffee in the till and dropped the rest into the jar for staff tips, then carried her laden tray into the kitchen, ignoring the curious glances which greeted her.
And she hadn’t been able to talk to him about Barney and her plan to rehome him, she realised ruefully. But what the hell? She’d go ahead anyway.
* * *
When she got home, she found Rosina bristling with defiance and clearly in no mood to answer the kind of questions that Ginny knew needed to be asked.
‘I’ll find a law firm in London who’ll act for me,’ she declared. ‘That Hargreaves man couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag as I told him.’
Ginny bit her lip. ‘Court battles are very expensive.’ Not to mention the kinds of unexpected truths that sometimes emerge as a result...
‘But my costs will be paid by the other side,’ Rosina insisted. ‘And while it’s all sub judice, I shall insist on remaining here. I’ve no intention of moving into that ghastly little house.’
‘It needs work,’ Ginny admitted reluctantly. ‘But it could be really cosy.’
Ouch, she thought, as her mother reared up indignantly. Wrong word.
‘Cosy? There isn’t space to swing a cat, let alone entertain my friends.’ She added sharply, ‘And, of course, with only two bedrooms, you’ll need to find somewhere else to live.’
Ginny stared at her. ‘But Cilla’s getting married. Surely we can share a room until then.’
‘Don’t be silly, Virginia. Both bedrooms are tiny, and your sister will need storage for her clothes.’ Rosina made it sound so logical. ‘Anyway, it’s time you were independent. You can’t expect me to support you for the rest of your life.’
Ginny wanted to protest. To say, If I’d gone to university and trained as a teacher I’d be qualified by now. But you stopped me.
Instead, she said quietly, ‘No, Mother. I’ve never expected that. And I’ll find something.’ She paused. ‘Where is Cilla, by the way?’
‘Out.’ Rosina shrugged. ‘I suppose at the Welburns’.’
‘Building bridges, I hope,’ said Ginny, remembering without pleasure that awkward few minutes with Jonathan in the hall.
‘That’s hardly necessary. Not when you’re as pretty as Cilla.’ Her mother shook her head. ‘Poor Virginia. You’ve never really understood how it all works, have you?’
