Page 14 of An Unholy Affair
They went around the side and through the back door into the kitchen. Everything from the flagstone floor to the peeling lime-wash walls was tired and ancient. In front of the window sat a giant Butler sink that had been used to clean dishes, dogs and children before a modern bathroom was installed decades ago.
Eveline filled the kettle from the noisy copper tap and switched it on.
‘So,’ she began, trying to keep her tone neutral. ‘What was Jack like growing up?’
Estelle was on tiptoe, pulling a battered green biscuit tin down from a high shelf. ‘If you don’t want to eat them, why buy them in the first place?’ she grumbled.
‘I buy them for other people. They’re up there to dissuade me from eating them.’
Estelle lifted the lid. ‘Ooh! Custard creams. Yum.’
‘Don’t eat them all. They’re Simon’s favourite and he gets a little, er, snippy, if I don’t have any.’
Her friend crammed two in her mouth and crunched.
Eveline raised her eyebrows and pulled out two mugs.
‘Ee’s a uck uh ob oo,’ Estelle said, her hand in front of her mouth to catch biscuit crumbs as they sprayed out.
‘In English?’
Estelle swallowed. ‘Isaid, “he’s a stuck-up nob too”. The only reason he’s supporting you in “pew-gate” is because he wants to get in your knickers.’
‘Shhh!’ she hissed, glancing around. ‘Simon is a friend and valued member of our congregation and community.’
Her friend shrugged. ‘He still fancies you.’
Eveline shook her head and poured boiling water into the mugs. ‘He’s sixty-six and still mourning the death of his wife. I don’t think he “fancies” anyone, least of all me.’
Estelle reached for another biscuit, but Eveline whipped the tin away.
‘Tell me about Jack.’
‘What’s it worth?’
She looked down. ‘There’s only one custard cream left.’
Estelle leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and raised an eyebrow.
‘You can have it after you’ve told me about Jack,’ Eveline said firmly.
‘Can I have a Bourbon to keep me going?’
She handed one over.
‘Thank you, lovely friend. You’re definitely going to heaven.’
Eveline rolled her eyes, took a pint of milk from the fridge and put it on the table. ‘Come on, then.’
‘Okay, Jack Newton, the abridged version. I’ve known him since I was four. Back then, he was shy, sweet, kind, and just lovely. He struggled academically but really loved art.’ Estelle stared at her mug and frowned. ‘I don’t think he’ll mind me telling you any of this, but it’s not very nice.’
Her heart rate spiked. ‘You don’t have to tell me. And I don’t want you breaking his confidence.’
Estelle’s face had lost its usual sparkle as she held Eveline’s gaze. ‘You know how Henry, Connor and I had a shit time of it growing up because of our crazy-ass parents?’
She nodded. The Duke of Somerset was a committed naturist, hosted sex parties, and had two wives as well as six children.
‘Well, Jack did too. His parents should have lived a hundred years ago. We used to call them “Victorian Mum” and “Victorian Dad” behind their backs. We didn’t know at the time just how bad it was, but Nigel used to hit Jack. Patricia would make him wear trousers instead of shorts, and long shirts in the summer to hide the bruises.’
