Page 64 of Love ad Lib
‘How do you come up with the titles?’ Eveline asked.
‘Oh, that’s the fun part,’ Libby replied. ‘In the office we have a series of jars labelled with different categories. We’ve got one for seasons and holidays, one for greetings or physical contact, one for location, one for job, one for animals, one for dwelling, one for flowers, and so on. Whenever we need a new title, we just pick a word from each jar. It’s easy.’
‘What a lovely idea,’ said Eveline.
Gram-Gram tutted. ‘Preposterous.’
‘So,’ said Estelle, ‘it would be something likeSummer Shagging at the Cockroach Café in Skegness?’
Henry sighed. ‘Estelle. Really?’
Libby couldn’t help grinning. ‘That’s the general idea, but cockroaches have never taken off. Figuratively, of course. At the moment bees and beekeeping are very on-trend.’
‘And squirrels?’ Henry asked, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
She held his gaze. ‘Squirrels are always popular.’
‘Not here, they’re not,’ said Arthur. ‘They’re rats with fluffy tails.’
Henry’s smile widened and her heart thumped faster in her chest.
‘When are you going to shoot them?’ Gram-Gram asked Estelle. ‘They’re causing untold damage to the arboretum.’
Estelle took a big glug of wine. ‘I’ve been a bit busy recently,’ she growled, then thumped her glass on the tablecloth.
Henry’s smile faded, and he looked away.
13
Henry lay his cutlery down and ran his finger back and forth along the edge of the china plate. The food at Foxbrooke was always delicious, but sitting next to his fake girlfriend, and surrounded by his all-too-real family, he’d lost his appetite.
It wasn’t just the fear of discovery that knotted his stomach. His sister’s anger felt like a knife stabbing at his twisted gut. The bond he shared with his twin couldn’t be broken, but over the last few years, when more responsibility for the estate had landed on her shoulders, it had become strained. Henry had spent his life distancing himself from Foxbrooke, from his parents and the expectations they had of him to run the estate. He loved his family but the scars from his upbringing ran deep. He wanted a life of order and calm, not chaos.
‘You up for the pub on Tuesday?’ Finn asked him as coffee and chocolates were served. ‘It’s quiz night.’
‘I think we’ll be back in London by then. Do you want us on your team?’
Finn pulled a face. ‘Libby maybe, but not you. I’m in it to win it.’
‘Jasmine and I will be on your team,’ Summer said.
He shook his head, not meeting her eyes. ‘No thanks.’ He glanced across the table at Libby. ‘What’s your specialist subject?’
‘I don’t think I have one.’
‘Books? Jane Austen?’
‘Jane Austen, maybe. Are they likely to have any questions on her work?’
Finn rubbed his beard. ‘Probably not.’
‘We should play sardines,’ said Summer. ‘We’ve got the perfect amount of people.’
‘Yes!’ agreed Jasmine. ‘Henry, you have to play.’
Libby’s hand drifted towards his, as if she wanted to hold it, then stopped.
‘I’m in,’ said Leo. ‘We haven’t played in years. Ella, you up for getting far too close and personal with my family?’
