Page 77 of I Knew You Were Trouble

‘Saff-yyy,’ coos Shaz, making kissing noises at her. Saffron, who has never once come when I’ve called her, trots over and jumps onto the sofa, then climbs into Shaz’s lap.

Everyone, including my husband, thinks this is just as hilarious as the soppy message from Dunn.

‘Yeah, yeah, you lot will keep…’ I say, smothering my own laughter.

Ravi comes over to refresh our drinks, and I get up and go into the kitchen. ‘Hello, you,’ I say, snaking my arms around Tristan’s waist. I tip my face for a kiss and he presses his lips to mine. He tastes like the Pinot we’ve been sipping on. ‘Smells good in here.’

‘Thank you. I’m letting the meat rest for a bit, then I’ll serve up. And I was thinking,’ he says, leaning closer, ‘what do you say to shooing everyone out the moment we finish pudding? Get on with our baby making.’

‘Oh, I am completely on board with that,’ I reply.

What goes unsaid is that we’ve been trying for months now. We both understand it will take as long as it takes – or we may eventually need help – but we’re so excited about becoming parents that we’re hoping for sooner rather than later.

* * *

‘Bonjour, Marie,’ I say when she answers her phone.

The only indication that she heard me is a soft grunt.

‘There’s been a development in the Kate Whitaker case and we need your help.’

‘D’accord.’

I explain how Kate and Willem went to Verona to inform Lucia Rossi about Dunn, but she wasn’t there. And that we’re now concerned Dunn might be planning to propose to Lucia this coming weekend.

‘Is there any way you can find out?’ I ask.

‘Pffft.’

In this context, that’s Marie for ‘duh, of course’. It can also mean ‘I don’t care’, ‘I have no idea’, ‘maybe’, and ‘I’m surrounded by morons’. After years of working with Marie, I’ve learned to tell the difference.

‘Good, now how long do you need?’

‘An hour or two.’

‘Excellent!’ I enthuse, but she ends the call before I finish the word. ‘And you have a lovely day too, Marie,’ I say to myself.

‘Was that Kate Whitaker?’ I look up and Ursula is standing beside my desk, her eyes boring into mine. ‘How did it go in Verona?’

‘It wasn’t and it didn’t.’

‘Is this one of your Australianisms? I swear, half the time I have no idea what you’re saying.’

I doubt Ursulameansto be insulting so I let that slide. ‘I meant that it wasn’t Kate – it was Marie – and nothing happened in Verona because fiancée-to-be number three wasn’t there. She’s in Greece until Thursday.’

Ursula’s expression sours, evidenced by the slight pursing of her lips, invisible to the naked eye unless you know what you’re looking for.

‘And Marie?’ she asks.

‘Marie is looking into Dunn’s movements over the coming weekend.’

‘Ahh, yes, he might be planning to propose.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Juicy case you have here, Poppy.’

Is that a hint of jealousy I detect in her voice? Although, I’m not sure what she has to be jealous about. She’s been co-piloting this case since the beginning.

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