sustain his resentment, could not bring himself to dwell on her betrayal
in this environment, so the laughter was easy and the warmth
un-contrived.
When they went through to the small informal dining-room, they sat at
the table as they had done so often before; they seemed to be
transported back in time to those happy almost forgotten years.
There were moments which might have jarred, but Chantelle's instinct was
so certain that she could skirt delicately around these.
She treated Nicholas as an honoured guest, not as the master of the
house; instead she made Peter the host. Peter darling, will you carve
for us? and the boy's pride and importance was almost overwhelming,
although the bird looked as though it had been caught in a
combine-harvester by the time he had finished with it.
Chantelle served food and wine, a chicken stuffed in Creole style and a
petit Chablis, that had no special associations from the past; and the
choice of music was Peter's.
Music to develop ulcers by/ as Nicholas remarked aside, to Chantelle.
Peter fought a valiant rearguard action to delay the passage of time,
but finally resigned himself when Nicholas told him, I'll come and see
you up to bed. He waited while Peter cleaned his teeth with an
impressive vigour that might have continued beyond midnight if Nicholas
had not protested mildly. When at last he was installed between the
sheets, Nicholas stooped over him and the boy wrapped both arms around
his neck with a quiet desperation.
I'm so happy/he whispered against Nicholas neck and when they kissed he
crushed Nicholas lips painfully with his mouth , Wouldn't it be fabulous
if we could be like this always? he asked.
'If you didn't have to go away again, Dad? Chantelle had changed the
wild music to the muted haunting melodies of Liszt, and as he came back
into the room she was pouring cognac into a thin crystal balloon.
Did he settle down? she asked, and then answered herself immediately.
He's exhausted, although he doesn't know it.
She brought him the cognac and then turned away and went out through the
doors on to the terrace. He followed her out, and they stood at the
stone balustrade side by side.
The air was clear but chill.
It's beautiful/ she said. The moon paved a wide silver path across the
surface of the sea. I always thought that the highway to my dreams.,
Duncan, he said. Let's talk about Duncan Alexander/ and she shivered
slightly, folding her arms across her breasts and grasping her own naked
shoulders, What do you want to know? in what terms did you give him
control of your shares? As an agent, my personal agent.
With full discretion? She nodded, and he asked next, Did you have an
escape clause? In what circumstances can you reclaim control?
The dissolution of marriage,, she said, and then shook her head.
'But I think I knew that no court would uphold the agreement if I wanted
to change it. It's too Victorian.
Anytime I want to I could simply apply to have the appointment of Duncan
as my agent set aside. Yes, I think you're right/Nicholas agreed. But
