‘There is no “me and him”,’ Bex said. It was important to her that Mrs Farrier knew. ‘I swear to you. There is nothing going on between me and your husband and there never has been.’
Mrs Farrier looked at her over the rim of the glass. ‘He tried something, though. Didn’t he?’
‘I don’t think this is going to help anybody,’ Bex said. ‘Can we get back to my innocence, please?’ She tried some more of the wine. It really was very good. And clearly alcoholic. She took a bigger drink.
‘How do you know I don’t have those cufflinks?’ Mr Farrier said suddenly, pointing at Iris. ‘What makes you so sure I threw them away?’
‘Because my mother spat them out shortly before she died.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t point at me, please. It’s very rude,’ Iris said. ‘Things that were thrown away, they came to my mother. It was her gift. Mine is to give people what they need. It’s easier in some ways.’ Iris looked at her wine glass as if surprised to find it empty. ‘Damn stuff is too tasty,’ she said. ‘Gave me quite a shock, I can tell you. I recognised them. I was still,’ she hesitated, ‘holding a candle for him.’
‘I thought you broke off the engagement,’ Bex said.
‘Didn’t say what kind of candle,’ Iris said. ‘You can know something is wrong and still mourn its passing.’
Bex felt light-headed. She wondered if she’d been holding on to the past too tightly.
‘Are we all just going to sit here and listen to this nonsense? “Gifts”? How gullible do you think I am?’ Mr Farrier, to give him his due, wasn’t going down without a fight.
Mrs Farrier gave him a piercing look and he closed his mouth. She leaned forward, towards Iris. ‘What happened next? After your mum got the cufflinks?’
Iris shrugged. ‘She put them in one of the dishes on her dressing table. Well, she wasn’t very well, so I put them there for her. She was taking pills from the doctor by then. She thought they dulled the gift, made it less likely to happen.’
‘Did they work?’ Mrs Farrier asked, looking a little sad.
‘No. But they helped her forget what was happening. Took the edges off the world.’
Mrs Farrier nodded and lifted her glass. When she found it was empty, she held it out to Bex.
‘All gone,’ Bex said. ‘Sorry.’
‘Right.’ Iris seemed to rouse herself. ‘It’s time.’ She pointed to Mr Farrier. ‘You’ve just taken a truth potion. You are now bound to tell the truth and you are going to write Rebecca a reference. The one she deserves.’
‘Oh, make it a good one,’ Mrs Farrier said, putting her hand on her husband’s arm. ‘She’s been ever so good. The children adore her.’
‘Not Tarquin,’ Bex said, sadly. ‘I just annoy him, I think.’ Bex told herself to shut up and stop ruining her chances of a decent reference. Then her mind caught on to what Iris had just said: Truth potion. What the Hell?
‘Oh, no. Tarquin loves you,’ Mrs Farrier said. Tears appeared in her eyes. ‘I don’t think he likes me very much.’
‘That’s just his age,’ Iris said briskly. ‘Pull yourselves together.’
‘I need to spend more time with him.’ Mrs Farrier looked beseechingly at Bex. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘Maybe,’ Bex said. ‘Although he really likes being left alone. He likes to stay in his room.’
Mrs Farrier slumped back. ‘Oh, yes. I forgot.’
‘He really loves Pink, though,’ Bex said. ‘And she’s touring. You could take him. And a friend.’
‘You think he’d go with me?’
I think he’d suffer your presence if it meant going to see Pink, Bex thought. The urge to say the words out loud was suddenly very strong and she clamped her mouth shut.
Mrs Farrier was biting her lip, clearly thinking hard. ‘I could do that,’ she began.
‘Why did you call him Tarquin?’ Bex said and then put her hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry. That just slipped out.’
‘He prefers Tarc,’ Mrs Farrier said, staring mournfully at her empty glass.
‘I’m not surprised,’ Bex said from behind her fingers.
At that moment, they were distracted by Mr Farrier’s raised voice. He had got up and moved to Iris’s chair and was weaving slightly, his eyes slightly unfocused. ‘So,’ Mr Farrier said, as if about to prove a point. ‘If I threw the cufflinks away and they magically appeared’ – he made sarcastic bunny ears around the word ‘magically’ – ‘where are they now?’
‘Here.’ Iris delved into her bag and produced a pair of cufflinks. They were gold and lumpy-looking. On closer inspection, Bex realised they were moulded into the shape of a lion’s head.
‘Oh, Alistair,’ Mrs Farrier said. ‘Those are so ugly. You never mentioned they were ugly.’
‘I thought they were cool when I was young,’ he said. And then put a hand to his mouth as if he hadn’t intended to say any such thing. The words kept coming, though. ‘He was such a straight-laced person. These seemed really exotic.’
‘Such bad taste,’ Mrs Farrier said. ‘I’m glad you threw them away.’
‘This doesn’t change anything.’ Mr Farrier didn’t seem able to look away from the cufflinks ‘We only have your weird story. Bex could’ve given you these and asked you to concoct this bit of theatre, just for –’
‘Why would I do that?’ Bex said.
‘And why would I?’ Iris shook her head. ‘No, you’re going to have to do better than that.’ She stood up, suddenly not looking frail or old. She pointed at Mr Farrier. ‘The elderflower wine was laced with lemon verbena and now you are all bound to tell the truth. You falsely accused Bex of stealing cufflinks which you knew you had thrown away years before.’
‘Yes.’
Mrs Farrier patted his arm. ‘Never mind, dear,’ she said. ‘It’s all over now. Bex will come back to work and we can put this behind us.’ She smiled. ‘Now I know there’s nothing going on between you two. No hard feelings.’
‘No,’ Bex said. ‘I just want my reference and then I’ll leave.’
‘Are you sure?’ Iris said.
‘Yes.’
‘Right then.’ Iris produced a
