bring on the moated castle.
Turning to Cameron, Rupert thought how different she was to Sarah, as lean and hungry as Sarah was replete and voluptuous.
‘I’m dying to have a pee,’ he murmured, ‘just for an excuse to prowl round and see what a ghastly cock-up our hostess has made of a once-ravishing house. I used to come to children’s parties here.’
‘I can’t imagine you as a kid.’
‘I always cheated at doctors and nurses.’
Across the table, he noticed Sarah deliberately flirting with James, to make him jealous perhaps or to put Paul off the scent.
To Valerie’s disapproval Cameron got out a cigarette. Picking up a pink candle, Rupert lit it for her.
‘You hunt with the same pack as Tony?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes,’ said Rupert softly. ‘Sometimes after the same quarry.’
Looking round at his suddenly predatory, unsmiling face, she felt a quivering between her legs. Christ, she wanted him.
‘D’you want a lift home?’ he said.
‘No.’ She could have wept. ‘I brought my own car.’
‘The Lotus?’ said Rupert.
She nodded.
‘Nice Corinium perk,’ said Rupert, instantly returning to his former flippant mood. ‘I see James has finally got himself a Porsche. I’ll have to get rid of mine.’
‘I don’t know much about horses,’ murmured Cameron, frantic to hold his attention, ‘except my boss’s wife looks like one.’
‘You won’t oust her by bitching,’ said Rupert. Then, aware that Tony had suddenly stopped talking to Sarah and they were both listening, he said, ‘There are three things you need in a horse: balance, quality and courage. Same as a woman, really.’
‘I’d add intelligence,’ said Cameron.
‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Don’t you like achieving women?’
‘I don’t like ballbreakers.’
There was a chorus of oohs and aahs as Taggie came in with the moated ice cream castle. It was the last lap. Once she’d served this, and cleared away, she could relax.
‘What d’you do at Corinium?’ Rupert asked Cameron, as he idly watched Taggie moving round the table. She was bright pink in the face, her tongue clenched between her teeth in her efforts to hold the pudding steady. Any make-up had sweated off. Her dark hair was fighting the pins that held it up. But nothing could disguise the length of leg, or the long dark eyelashes, or the voluptuous swell of her breasts. She was going anti-clockwise again, but most people were too plastered to notice.
‘I produce Declan,’ said Cameron. ‘Why don’t you come on the programme?’
‘What?’ said Rupert, dragging his thoughts back from Taggie.
‘Come on the programme. I’m sure you and Declan would strike sparks off each other.’
‘I don’t want to,’ said Rupert flatly. ‘I don’t need that kind of wank, and you’d never hear any chat above the rattle of skeletons tumbling out of cupboards.’
Having just served Valerie, Taggie was moving slowly round towards him.
‘How d’you get on with Declan?’ he asked Cameron wickedly.
‘Utterly obnoxious,’ said Cameron. ‘He really pisses me off.’
Rupert watched Taggie to see if she’d rise.
‘Very pretty,’ he said, examining the pudding. ‘Feel I ought to get planning permission before I dig into this. Thanks, angel,’ he added, helping himself to a piece of battlement and a dollop of cream.
Ignoring him, Taggie moved round to his other side to serve Cameron.
‘How on earth does Declan’s wife put up with him?’ asked Cameron.
‘You’d better ask Taggie,’ said Rupert. ‘Maud’s her mother.’
Cameron paled visibly. Noticing Taggie for the first time, she tried to remember what ghastly things she’d said about Declan.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.’
In embarrassment she helped herself to too much pudding. The whole thing swayed. Rupert could smell Taggie’s body, could feel how hot, and nervous and trembling she was. Her skirt was so short. Almost without thinking, he put a leisurely hand between her thighs.
The next moment Taggie gave a shriek and dropped the very considerable remains of the pudding all over Cameron’s seven-hundred-pound smoking jacket and black satin trousers.
‘You stupid bitch,’ screamed Cameron, forgetting herself. ‘What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?’
In tears Taggie fled to the kitchen.
Remembering one must behave with dignity at all times, Valerie swept an almost hysterical Cameron upstairs.
Lizzie turned on Rupert: ‘You bastard,’ she yelled. ‘Don’t you realize this was her first job? She’s been trying to break into catering for months. She cooked like an angel and you had to fuck it up.’
‘With looks like that,’ said Rupert, retrieving pieces of broken plate from the floor, ‘I wouldn’t have thought a career was that important.’
‘Don’t be so fucking insensitive. Didn’t you know poor darling Taggie’s dyslexic? Can’t you imagine how ghastly it is being the only unbright one in such a brilliant family?’
‘Oh Christ,’ said Rupert, truly appalled. ‘I simply didn’t know. It was entirely my fault, Freddie. I couldn’t resist goosing your cook, but really you shouldn’t have dressed her in such sexy clothes. I’d better go and apologize.’
‘Leave her bloody alone,’ said Lizzie, rushing out to the kitchen to comfort a sobbing Taggie, who was being ineffectually patted by a swaying Reg.
‘Go and get a cloth and a dustpan and brush, and clear up the mess,’ Lizzie told him, ‘and give everyone another drink.’
‘There there, duck.’ She hugged Taggie.
‘I’m so sorry. I wanted everything to be perfect for Mrs Jones,’ sobbed Taggie.
‘You mustn’t worry. It was the most marvellous food anyone’s had in years.’ Lizzie pulled off a piece of kitchen roll to dry Taggie’s eyes. ‘Rupert’s a bastard. He just can’t resist a beautiful girl.’
‘Cameron is changing into one of my ge-owns,’ said Valerie, sweeping in.
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Jones,’ said Taggie in a choked voice.
‘I was just telling her how brilliantly she cooked,’ said Lizzie.
Valerie was livid. She’d been shown up as not doing the cooking at all.
‘Pull yourself together, Agatha,’ she said sharply. ‘Go and collect the rest of the plates, and see if Lord Baddingham and Miss Cook would like some fresh fruit, as they didn’t get any dessert.’
‘Cameron got her just dessert,’ giggled Lizzie.
‘I can’t go back in there,’ said Taggie aghast.
‘You will,’ said Valerie, ‘if you want to work for me again.’
In the dining-room James was furious with Lizzie for making such a fuss over Declan’s idiot daughter, and Sarah was furious with Rupert for so openly groping Taggie. She’d tried to be laid back about her affair with him, but now all she could feel was a red-hot lava of jealousy pouring over her.
Tony, on the other hand, was delighted by the turn of events. ‘Child’s clearly over-emotional and unbalanced like her father,’ he kept saying.
‘Bloody good cook,’ said Freddie.
And when Taggie, very tear-stained and head hanging, brought in a bowl of peaches and grapes, Monica leaned out and squeezed her hand.
‘Delicious dinner, my dear. I’ve got a girl’s lunch next week. Perhaps you’d like to help me out with that? Nothing elaborate, very cosy. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
Gulping gratefully, Taggie said she’d love to.
