“I knew you thought that.” I spoke with indignation. “I could see the bloody question coming. Look, love.” Bitterness now. “If that’s the best your vaunted woman’s intuition can do, I’d trade it in for guesswork.”
“Did you?” She slowed, to inspect my eyes.
“No,” I said levelly, with my innocent stare. I never try for piety because it never works.
“And if you count the tableware, you’ll find it complete. Anything else?”
“I was only—”
“Because I’m a bit scruffy and don’t share your blue blood, I’m the perennial villain. Is that it?” I was looking out at the moors, quite a tragic figure really, I thought.
“I’m sorry, Lovejoy. But you must realize—”
“You and the laird, okay. I did realize, eventually. But your main problem with Elaine is Trembler—forgive me, Cheviot Yale, Esquire—not me.”
She pulled at my hand. “Don’t be angry, darling. It’s only natural anxiety. I didn’t mean to offend—”
We were three hours reaching Inverness. I forget what took us so long. Anyhow, before saying good-bye, Michelle promised in spite of all my protests to accompany Dutchie on the runs to East Anglia with the reproduction antiques. She looked shy, new, voluptuous.
“You don’t want me, love,” I said, thinking of Francie, Joan, Ellen, and Jo, who would be desperate to hear how I’d got on. “I’m even bad at hindsight.”
“Next month to the day, darling,” she said. “I’ll stay with you a whole week. I’m dying to see your cottage, and nobody need know. Here. For you.” She gave me a parcel, quite heavy. I know you’re not supposed to, but I can’t help palpating presents to guess what’s inside. She saw me and laughed. My chest was bonging a definite chime.
The Mawdslay had gone before I remembered. I’d promised Ellen I’d stay on her houseboat down the Blackwater for a few days about then. And Sidoli’s fairground was due through on its run south in that week. And Jo had hinted she’d have three half-term days to spare. And I’d Margaret to thank. And Helen. Oh, God. Why is it that trouble always follows me, and never anybody else?
On the train I unwrapped Michelle’s parcel. The lovely pair of snuff mulls shone as the fading light patched and unpatched the carriage windows. The milky silver gleamed in time with the train wheels, and then blurred. Bloody women. No matter how you try, they always get you at a disadvantage, don’t they.
One day I’ll give everything up, I honestly will. As soon as I find out how.
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