Yes, of course you can, here.’ This, to Angus beside her, who’d asked to borrow her hymn book.
He then engaged her in animated conversation. The overexcited gleam in his eye, and the way he was staring down her top, worried me. Oh Lord, had he overheard? Sylvia, in front, turned to me, eyes huge. Right. They both had.
As Jennie slipped in beside me from the other end, I resolved not to say a word. Not yet, anyway.
‘Heard about Angie and Pete?’ she muttered as she took her coat off.
‘Yes!’ I breathed. ‘But don’t say a word.’ I swung round to glance, but Angie was still engrossed with Angus. ‘She’s terrified it’s all round the village.’
‘It is. Pete told his sister, who works with Yvonne in the shop, which is tantamount to putting it on the bush telegraph. Silly fool,’ she murmured, casting Angie a look.
‘It was a misunderstanding,’ I said loyally. Sometimes I found myself the glue between Jennie and Angie. Jennie occasionally found Angie a bit moneyed and spoiled, whilst Angie regarded Jennie as puritanical and over-principled.
‘As usual she thinks she can get what she wants simply by batting her eyelids.’
This was uncalled for, even for Jennie.
‘Oh, come on, she’s mortified.’
‘Oh, really? Not so mortified that she’s not throwing herself at the new master of the hunt too, I gather.’
‘Really?’ I was shocked. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Mrs Tucker at Countrywide, where I get Leila’s food. The first meet of the season’s next week, apparently, and Angie was in her shop yesterday, buying the tightest jodhpurs possible because some sexy new blood is leading the field. She’s out of control, Poppy.’
‘Right,’ I said wearily. If anything got Jennie’s blood up more than Angie at her most frivolous, it was Angie enjoying her expensive, privileged lifestyle. A wide streak of socialism shot right through Jennie, and she regarded the horsy crowd as arrogant toffs, particularly at this time of year. Personally I loved both my friends and found it all rather tiring.
‘We’re singing for a completely different couple today,’ I told her, changing the subject. ‘The bride got cold feet. Someone else has nabbed the spot.’
‘I know. It’s Simon.’
I stared at her. Her face was a mask. Calm; impassive.
‘Simon?’
‘Yes.’
‘Your Simon?’
‘He’s not my Simon, Poppy. Never was, never has been. I’m married to Dan, remember?’
I unstuck my tongue. ‘Yes, but …’ I was flabbergasted. Totally stunned. My mind flew to him walking her home from the book club a while back; saying goodnight rather tenderly, I thought, at the gate. No more than that, but still. He hadn’t looked like a betrothed man.
‘All rather sudden, isn’t it?’ I said, when I’d finally found my voice.
‘Very sudden. Last week.’
‘But, Jennie – it must be a hell of a shock! I mean, to you, surely?’
‘Not really. He rang and told me.’
‘
‘It’s more complicated than it sounds,’ she said quietly, finally letting me in, being more charitable. ‘And it’s not a whirlwind romance either. He went out with this girl years ago. Remember I told you? He was engaged to her, but she got involved with someone else. Simon just trod water. He looked about but never found anyone he liked as much. Loved as much, rather. He was always, unconsciously, waiting. They got engaged for the second time last week.’
‘He told you all this on the phone?’
‘We had a coffee, actually. He felt he sort of owed me an explanation. We had, after all, had lunch once.’
I felt my eyes widen. ‘You had lunch with Simon?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where?’
‘In London.’
I gazed at her. ‘Right,’ I said finally, faintly. Although I was staggered, I also realized that in some nebulous way I’d known. Realized at the book club there was a subplot; that they’d had private time together. Maybe even
