Page 104 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
But I can’t have done that good a job of it, because she said in my ear, ‘What’s the matter? I just saw you come out of the back room looking as if you’d seen a ghost.’
‘I did,’ I said with a shaky and unconvincing laugh. ‘The ghost of parties past: Carey and Daisy were in there, having a smooch.’
She stared at me. ‘It can’t be what it looked like,’ she said flatly after a minute.
‘It looked to me like he still can’t resist her and perhaps they’ll get back together.’
‘There has to be an explanation,’ she insisted. ‘I mean, adifferentexplanation.’
‘It doesn’t matter. But you see, I was right about me and Carey. We’re just best friends and that’s how it will always be, nothing more.’
Molly looked troubled, but didn’t say anything else, and when Careyreappeared there was no sign of Daisy – other than a raspberry-red streak of lipstick on his face.
When I came back in after waving off the last of the revellers, Molly and Grant had already packed away the small amount of leftover food, while the crew had helpfully drained the last of the punch and the dregs of the open bottles.
Jorge and Sukes were tossing the debris into a big black plastic bag and I hoped someone other than me was going to sort that into the recycling bins tomorrow …
‘You’ve gone very quiet,’ Carey said to me, putting his arm round my shoulders and giving me a searching look, which I avoided. The lipstick had quickly vanished – someone must have told him about it – but I still felt Daisy had put her mark on him.
‘Oh, I think I’ve just had too much to drink – but it was a great party.’
‘Why don’t you go up to the house and make some coffee and we’ll follow you up in a minute? We can clear everything else away in the morning,’ he suggested.
‘Good idea,’ I said, and on the way scooped up Fang, who was fast asleep under one of the tables, his small tummy round with leftovers.
The cold night air cleared my head a bit, though even the icy wind couldn’t scour away my emotions.
Molly and Grant went home after the coffee, saying they felt tired, and once the warmth of the kitchen had hit me I’d suddenly felt as limp as a bit of chewed string, too. But the crew seemed to get a second wind and decided to go back into the old wing and ghost hunt in Lady Anne’s bedchamber.
‘Sooner you than me,’ I said. ‘It’s cold as ice in there, even with the electric storage heater going.’
‘You coming, Carey?’ asked Nick, as they headed out.
‘I’ll catch you up. I’ll just take Fang into the courtyard first,’ Carey told him and then, when they’d gone, looked down at me and said, with that irresistible smile, ‘Why not come out and see the stars, Angel?’
I hardened my heart and told him it was too cold and I was so tired I only wanted to go to bed.
‘OK – and happy Valentine’s Day,’ he said softly and I managed a smile.
‘I’ve had a wonderful day, from the stained-glass angel onwards,’ I told him, though I didn’t add that it had all shattered in one awful, illuminating moment and I needed time to reassemble my love for him to the old pattern.
My husband and Mr Browne were away when Father visited, but when they returned I thought they had been quarrelling again.
I believe Mr Browne now wishes to permanently leave Mossby and move to the Lakes, where he is sure of getting more commissions.
I hope he does so and there is a final break between them: I believe it would be for the best.
Somewhat irked by Father’s opinion of my mental faculties, after he had returned to London I began a systematic search of the old wing for anything that might appear among the motifs in the window. I was by now rather too large and cumbersome to do anything more useful! I wrote jokingly to Lily that since this was clearly a honeymoon baby, I should call it Paris …
36
Down Time
I woke as early as usual next morning and opened my window on to still, crisp, cold, starless darkness. Shivering, I closed it again and quickly dressed in jeans, black sweatshirt and my boots.
I felt like me again: no nonsense.
Downstairs I drank some coffee and then, standing by the open fridge door, grazed on a cold vegetarian sausage roll and two cheese and tomato sandwiches, as you do when there are leftovers. It’s as if there’s some guilt involved and you need to be ready to slam the door and hope no one notices the crumbs round your mouth.
