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Sliding her bag from her shoulder, she placed it safely out of the way and with both hands, caught hold of the rope. She gave it a sharp tug, testing its ability to take her weight, in case it was only suitable for children, or small adults like Esme. It seemed fine, so Iris began pulling her body upward, the muscles in her arms already straining. It wasn’t easy to trap the plank of wood between her legs, given the dress she was wearing. But soon, she was swinging back and forth, using her body to propel her, gaining momentum as she spun on each turn, and then, when she was feeling confident enough, she threw her head back and stretched her arms taut, so that her body was almost parallel to the ground, as she’d seen Esme do. She closed her eyes, exhilarating in the moment, enjoying the breeze that cooled her skin as she spun and turned, carefree and untroubled. She wanted to carry on swinging but her arms began to cramp, so she kept her body still and gradually, the swing slowed and she was able to slide from the plank.
She stood for a moment, clutching the rope, loving the shifting sensation beneath her feet, like sand on the seabed responding to the pull of the waves. She wanted to fetch Gabriel so that he could have a turn; she wanted him to be able to experience the same sense of abandonment as she had when, for a small moment in time, nothing else had mattered. But of course, everything else did matter. Letting go of the swing, she retrieved her bag and dug for her phone.
There was a message from Laure. She was home, she wrote, and was going to have an early night. She was sorry for leaving as she had, andwished them all a lovely evening. Relieved, Iris messaged back, telling her to sleep well, and that she would see her in the morning.
She walked quickly back to the house, aware that she’d been away so long that Esme and the others might think she’d gone home. Instead of going through the house, she followed the path that Joseph had taken.
“Is Laure all right?” Esme asked, when Iris appeared on the terrace.
Iris’s eyes were immediately drawn to Joseph, standing by Hugh’s chair. Up close, he was startlingly good-looking, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes.
“Yes, she’s home and having an early night. She apologizes for leaving so abruptly.”
Hugh, suddenly remembering that introductions needed to be made, got to his feet. “Iris, this is Joseph. He’s a family friend, who’s kindly agreed to help us with our garden.”
Esme sighed dramatically. “You don’t know how hard it was to entice him away from the delights of Winchester to come and live with us for a few months. He only agreed as a favor to my parents, who nearly died when they saw the state of this place.”
“It didn’t take much to entice me,” Joseph said. “I’ve heard there’s some beautiful countryside around here.”
“Hopefully it’ll make up for living in a shed.” Esme pointed to a small stone outbuilding, covered in climbing roses. “Until there’s a bedroom ready for him in the house, that’s where he’s staying.”
“I don’t know about the inside, but it’s certainly very pretty,” Iris remarked.
“It’s fine inside, despite what Esme says. I have somewhere to eat, somewhere to sleep and somewhere to wash. What more could a man want?”
Iris was saved from answering by Hugh. “Very little,” he said, sitting down again. “I was tempted to move into it myself and leave Esme on her own in the house.” He craned his head, looking up at Joseph. “Why don’t you sit down, have a drink with us?”
Joseph looked down at himself, wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’mhardly in a fit state. Another time, perhaps.” He nodded toward Iris and Gabriel. “Enjoy your evening.”
Esme waited until he was out of earshot. “That wasn’t very diplomatic,” she reproached.
Hugh looked at her guiltily. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“It’s why I didn’t invite him to join us for supper,” she explained, turning to Iris. “Joseph needs to avoid alcohol for a while and as there’ll be plenty of it tonight, I thought it better not to put him in the way of temptation.” She glanced at Hugh, who was talking to Gabriel, and lowered her voice. “Joseph and I go back a long way and when I caught up with him at my parents’ a couple of months back, I could see he was in a bad place. He’s had a couple of close shaves as a result of getting drunk. He’s actually lucky to be alive.”
Already intrigued by Joseph, Iris’s curiosity was piqued. “Why, what happened?” she asked.
Esme hesitated, as if wrestling with her conscience, then plunged in. “A few months ago, while over the limit, he wrapped his car around a tree. How he got away without serious injury is a miracle. The only thing he lost was his license for a year, and his job, when he could just as easily have lost his life. Then, a month ago, while he was working at my parents’ house—they’d given him some work while he looked for another job—he nearly gassed himself to death while he was drunk.”
“What!”
Esme nodded. “He went to make himself a cup of tea in my dad’s shed, filled the kettle, put it on the hob, turned on the gas bottle but forgot to light the ring. Dad found him and managed to get him out of the shed but he was so groggy Dad called the doctor, who told Joseph he would die of liver disease, if he didn’t kill himself first.”
Iris’s mouth dropped open. “Gosh, that’s awful.”
Esme nodded. “I know. Luckily, my parents, who are very fond of Joseph—they know his mum—managed to persuade him that getting away from Winchester would be a good thing.”
“Is that where you’re originally from? Winchester?”
“Yes. Anyway, after checking with us, they told Joseph that Hugh and I were in desperate need of a gardener, and after a bit of persuasion he agreed to come here for a while. I think he understood that if he carried on the way he was going, he’d end up a fully-fledged alcoholic.”
Esme paused, and in the silence, Iris heard Charlie Ingram’s name mentioned. She turned her eyes to where the men were sitting, their heads close together, and felt a rush of relief that Gabriel had felt able to confide in Hugh.
“All he needs to do now is stay on the wagon,” Esme continued.
Iris frowned, momentarily confused, and remembered they were talking about Joseph. “Do you think he will?”
“He has every reason to.” Esme rested her hands on her stomach for a few seconds, then stood. “Shall we eat?”
