‘I rather fancy one of those ginger gems before they all go,’ he said.
‘Is a ginger gem like gingerbread?’
‘They’re a little crustier on the outside than gingerbread, but they melt in your mouth on the inside.’
‘Sounds rather delicious.’
‘Are you tempted my dear because if you do, then I can. Raewyn Morris, she’s my secretary has been keeping an eye on the afternoon tea proceedings, and she’ll slap my hand if she sees me going back for thirds. I’m supposed to be trying to lose a few pounds.’
‘I am partial to all things ginger.’
‘Oh go on Isabel,’ he urged conspiratorially.
There was nothing else for it.Who was she to deprive Father Joyce of a ginger gem? Isabel returned after nearly sending the contents of her plate flying thanks to the stray foot she tripped over on her journey back from the trestle table. Thankfully she was righted by the owner of the stray foot’s helpful hand and returned with the two ginger treats intact.
‘You almost lost those,’ Father Joyce said in a tone that implied that would have been sacrilege indeed as he helped himself to one of the gems.
‘I’m a proper klutz—always have been,’ Isabel said as he looked furtively over at an angular woman standing near the cheese roll-ups. Her hawkish gaze was elsewhere.
In two bites his little cake was gone. Father Joyce wiped the crumbs from his robe and Isabel listened to him describe the woman whose gaze she had held until she passed, while she ate hers at a much slower pace than the priest.
Chapter 2
‘I rather think Ginny looked upon me as a stand-in for Teddy given we’re of a similar age. He’s a mover and shaker in the world of finance; does something or other in banking and lives in Hong Kong. I must say he strikes me as one of those men for whom retirement is a foreign word.’
It was a bit pot calling the kettle black, Isabel thought given the priest must be somewhere in his early seventies himself.
‘His wife Olga is Russian, and they have a daughter, Tatiana who’s about to turn fourteen. I had the most hear-warming chat with her before the service; she’s a charming young lady you know. A credit to her parents.’ Father Joyce looked around making sure none of his parishioners were within earshot, but the hall as the afternoon wore on was slowly thinning. Nevertheless, he leaned in closer to Isabel in a conspiratorial manner and said, ‘Between you and I it was a cause of consternation for Ginny when her son married Olga. That he should marry a woman he not only met on the Internet but who was half his age and so late in life too. Well,’ he tapped the side of his nose, ‘let’s just say Ginny had rather a lot to say on the subject. I told her she should be happy he’d found love. Not everybody gets a second shot at it.’
‘Had he been married before then?’
‘Yes, his first wife passed away from a prolonged illness ten years after they were married and there were no children. He, as I understand it, threw himself wholeheartedly into his finance career and did not come to terms with his grief for a long time. On the occasions I’ve met with him over the years when he’s been home visiting his mother, it was clear to me he was devoted to Olga and Tatiana. They both gave him a new lease of life.’
‘She’s very beautiful.’ Isabel said spotting Olga, a willowy brunette across the room in conversation with a woman who looked very staid by comparison in her tunic top and leggings.
‘Yes, she’s a beauty all right. That didn’t impress Ginny though. She felt that at his age he should be retiring and spending his time on a golf course, a golf course preferably somewhere in the South Island of New Zealand near his mother. She didn’t approve of him embarking on fatherhood along with the trials and tribulations of keeping a younger woman happy when he was of pensionable age. She was heard to mutter more than once, “Who did he think he was—Donald Trump?”’
Isabel suppressed a smile. Melania and Donald had sprung to mind when she initially saw them together.
Father Joyce finished his remaining savoury before continuing. ‘Do you know Ginny remarked to me the last time Teddy, Olga, and Tatiana had been to visit that she didn’t fancy Tatiana’s chances of becoming the prima ballerina her mother seemed to have her heart set on. In her words, the poor sod who had to perform the pas de deux with her granddaughter would surely be left bowlegged were he to attempt a lift! A little unkind but humourous nonetheless, and I knew that at the crux of the comment was a wish for what was best for Tatiana.’
Isabel looked around until she spied Teddy. By his side was a solidly built young girl standing with the awkwardness of an adolescent who doesn’t know where she fits in the world yet. Isabel knew that feeling well, except she no longer had the umbrella of her teenage years to hide under. The young teen standing next to her father looked like she’d be much more at home in a pair of jeans than the frilly ensemble she was currently decked out in. Isabel watched her as she tugged at her skirt with obvious irritation. It was hard to imagine the poor girl in a tutu.
‘Ginny felt her daughter-in-law was trying to relive her childhood dreams through her daughter and that it was ludicrous to push a style of dance on poor Tatiana that required one to be a silhouette. She wondered whether perhaps with her granddaughter's sturdy frame, she might be better suited to women’s rugby. “The New Zealand Black Ferns were doing ever
