Alison’s husband, and one of Alison and Peter on their wedding day, knee deep in little bridesmaids in Laura Ashley dresses, but not even a passport snap of Xander, who was a hundred times more handsome than the whole lot put together. I was tempted to take the picture of him out of my wallet and stick it on top of Peter’s smug, smiling, square-jawed face, but it wouldn’t have done Xander any good.
I felt better after I’d had a bath, washed my hair and rubbed quantities of Joan’s bottle of Joy over my body. I hoped she wouldn’t recognize the smell on me. Anyway, she deserved to be Joyless, the old bag.
Combing my wet hair, I looked out of the window. Two girls — the kind who open their legs like airport doors whenever a man approaches — wearing white bikinis, stiletto heels and about a hundredweight each of make-up, were teetering across the lawn. They must have been brought down by Andreas. He always carried a spare. Suddenly Jeremy came out of the door leading to the swimming pool and walked past the tarts without even noticing them. They, on the other hand, swivelled round, gazing at him in wonder, watching him avidly as he loped with lazy animal grace towards the house. I can’t say I blamed them.
Bring me my beau of burning gold, I muttered, as, wrapped only in a huge fluffy blue towel, I curled up on the floor to dry my hair. I didn’t wait long. There was a quick step outside, and a knock on the door.
‘Come in,’ I said huskily.
He closed the door behind him. I let the towel slip slightly.
‘Why are you here?’ I said. ‘I’m amazed you could tear yourself away from those first editions.’
‘You’re why I’m here,’ he said. ‘Who was that repulsive man you were talking to?’
My heart sang. It had worked.
‘Andreas Katz. I’ve known him for years.’
‘How well?’
I went on drying my hair.
‘How well?’ persisted Jeremy. ‘Oh for God’s sake, turn that bloody thing off.’
‘Not as well as he would like,’ I said, but I turned off the dryer.
He put his hands down, pulled me to my feet and kissed me passionately, his hands moving down to my breasts and over my hips. Just for once, I thought, the millpond smoothness of Joan’s flowered counterpane is going to be ruffled. Then suddenly Jeremy pushed me away and went over to the window.
It took him a few seconds to get himself under control. I picked up the dryer.
‘No,’ he said. ‘For Christ’s sake don’t turn it on yet. Look, you must understand how crazy I am about you.’
‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it.’
He knelt down beside me, took my face in his hands, began stroking it very gently, as though he wanted to memorize all the contours.
‘Gus doesn’t deserve to be hurt, you know that as well as I do. Not now anyway, when Gareth’s around to fuck everything up as well. If you and I have got something going for us, and I believe we have, let’s wait until we get back to London.’
For a minute I looked mutinous. But I knew it wouldn’t further my cause to tell him that part of the charm of hooking him would be to upset Gussie and Gareth.
‘It’s only tonight and Monday to get through,’ he went on. ‘On Tuesday we go back to London and we can meet on Wednesday and decide what the hell to do about it. You’re so important to me, I reckon it’s worth waiting for.’
I nodded, picking up his hand and planting a kiss in the palm. ‘All right, I’ll try,’ I said.
With the tips of his fingers he traced a vein on the inside of my arm, down to the scar that ran across my wrist.
‘How did you get that?’
‘With a razor. The day Xander married Pamela. I felt the only person in the world who really loved me was being taken away from me.’
He bent his head and kissed the scar.
‘You do need looking after, don’t you? Be brave and trust me, little one. It isn’t long to wait.’
After he was gone I finished drying my hair, and went downstairs, experiencing a great and joyous calm. The road was clear now, there was nothing Gareth could do.
Down at the pool the two tarts were swimming, holding their made-up faces high out of the water, encouraged by Gareth, who was sitting on the edge talking to Ricky and Andreas, and drinking a Bloody Mary. He’d been swimming again and his black hair fell in wet tendrils on his forehead.
‘I certainly don’t want yes-men around me anymore,’ said Ricky.
‘I certainly want “yes” women around me,’ said Gareth. ‘I suppose we’d better go in a minute. Oh, there you are Octavia, cleansed in mind and body I hope.’
The three men looked at me. Together they made a nerve-racking trio.
‘Octavia has so far refused to cook a single meal on board,’ said Gareth. ‘So no doubt I’ll be slaving over a hot tin opener again tonight. I really don’t approve of role-reversal.’
‘The only time any role-reversal takes place in our house’, said Ricky, laughing heartily, ‘is when Joan reverses the Rolls into the gateposts.’
‘Who’s taking my name in vain?’ said Joan, coming through the gate, followed by Gussie and Jeremy, absolutely weighed down with loot from the vegetable garden.
‘Look,’ screamed Gussie. ‘Isn’t Joan angelic? We can have asparagus for supper tonight, and strawberries.’
‘At least we won’t get scurvy,’ said Gareth, smiling at Joan. ‘Thank you very much.’ He got up. ‘We must go.’
‘You’d better go and change darling,’ said Ricky. ‘I’ll walk down to the boathouse with them. It’ll give the dogs a run. I won’t be long.’
He bustled into the house.
‘Such a pity we’re going out to supper,’ Joan said, kissing Gussie. ‘Do send me a postcard when you know what your telephone number’s going to be. And I’ll get Alison and Peter to give you a ring. I know you’ll get on.’
‘Goodbye, Octavia.’ She gave me the usual chilly peck.
‘You must bring Mrs Smith down one evening,’ she said to Gareth. ‘I hear she’s the most gorgeous gel.’
She’d only started saying ‘gel’ since Pamela came out.
Ricky returned with the visitor’s book. ‘You must all sign before you go.’
He always does this so he can remember who to claim on expenses. I didn’t dare look at Jeremy when Gussie signed them both under their new address.
‘We won’t be actually living there for a month or two,’ she said, beaming round.
Andreas abandoned us at the edge of the hayfields. He was not cut out for country walks.
‘Goodbye Octavia,’ he said. ‘Think about what I’ve said. We can’t go on not meeting like this.’
‘That man’s a shit,’ said Gareth, as soon as we were out of earshot.
‘I know,’ said Ricky, ‘but an extremely clever one.’
Chapter Ten
After the thrill of my recent encounter with Jeremy I behaved atrociously for the rest of the day. As we were sailing towards evening through low fields of buttercups and overhanging trees, I made Jeremy teach me how to steer the boat. I insisted on driving it towards the bank all the time, so he had to keep putting his hands over mine in order to straighten up. Gussie seemed to see nothing wrong. She beamed at us both. Gareth was making Pimms.
After dinner Gussie dragged a very reluctant Jeremy across the fields to look at a Norman church, and Gareth
