caddy to Vida.
‘It’s a bit rundown but I love it,’ she said. ‘I’ve been
having a house renovated here and it’ll be ready to move
into within a few months.’
She produced the tea pot and quickly made tea with the
ease of one who’d performed the same task in the same
kitchen many times before. Evie stood to one side with a
strained smile on her face and petted Jessie as she watched
them move around each other as if they were used to
spending time together.
Evie felt like an interloper. The other three, Rosie, her
father and Vida, were all relaxed in each other’s company.
Rosie would fit in anywhere. She had that knack of
appearing totally at home, no matter where she was, while
Evie had never had the gift and now felt as if she stood out
like a sore thumb.
‘Where’s your new house?’ she asked brightly.
Her father and Vida exchanged another meaningful
glance.
‘On Bracken Road. The Grange at the crossroads.’
‘Oh.’ Evie knew the house, a large old manor not unlike
Olivia’s parents’ house. ‘It’s very big for one person,’ she
said absently. ‘Do you have family living with you? Your
husband?’
As soon as she said it, Evie realised how bitchy it
sounded. Have you got a husband or are you looking for one?
Is that why you’re dangling around my father? She hadn’t
meant it to sound like that.
If Vida thought the question was barbed, she seemed
unconcerned. She poured tea into the china mugs Andrew
had laid on the pine kitchen table.
‘No, my last husband is dead. He died a long time ago, in
America.’
Again, there was a pregnant pause.
‘Let’s take the tea into the sitting room,’ said Andrew
briskly.
There they sat around the fire Rosie had managed to
light and talked about the drive from Dublin, the weather
and what time the guests were coming for the drinks party.
“I said half-six for seven, which leaves us an hour to get
ready,’ Andrew said, with a quick glance at his watch.
‘Early drinks parties are better because then everyone
doesn’t sit around until the wee small hours getting
sozzled’
‘Which would be a huge waste of time,’ Vida said to
him, a warm smile lighting up her face.
She was beautiful, Evie realised with a pang, feeling like
a giant blimp in a room full of sleek specimens. She must
have been absolutely stunning when she was younger
because she was pretty stunning now.
‘We met at a cocktail party,’ Vida said in a confiding
voice.
Rosie grinned. “I didn’t know you were into cocktail
parties, Grandpops?’
Her grandfather grinned back. ‘I wasn’t, until I met this
lady. She’s teaching me lots of new things.’ They both laughed.
‘Not only about cocktails,’ murmured Vida, in a voice
she hadn’t planned on anyone else hearing, but which
Evie, who could hear a whispered comment across four
desks in Wentworth Alarms, heard only too clearly.
She couldn’t cope with this bizarre conversation any
longer. Nobody was telling her anything and she just had to
know.
‘So, you two are going out?’ she asked bluntly.
The beatific look on her father’s face told her everything.
‘More
than going out, darling Evie,’ he said slowly,
dragging his eyes away from Vida. ‘I know I should have
told you some of this earlier, but it all happened so suddenly and I wanted to tell you in person: Vida and I are getting married. I wanted to tell the three of you together,
you, Rosie and Cara, but since you’ve asked …’
Evie stared at him, feeling as if the bottom had fallen
out of her world. Married. He was getting married again?
She thought of the photographs on the card table, the
faded one of her parents in their wedding clothes, her
mother in an oyster satin dress with a bright stain of red
lipstick on her mouth. Her wonderful dead mother, whom
she’d never stopped missing; the person Dad had mourned
for so long. Didn’t that mean anything to him at all? How
could he even
‘It’s a bit rundown but I love it,’ she said. ‘I’ve been
having a house renovated here and it’ll be ready to move
into within a few months.’
She produced the tea pot and quickly made tea with the
ease of one who’d performed the same task in the same
kitchen many times before. Evie stood to one side with a
strained smile on her face and petted Jessie as she watched
them move around each other as if they were used to
spending time together.
Evie felt like an interloper. The other three, Rosie, her
father and Vida, were all relaxed in each other’s company.
Rosie would fit in anywhere. She had that knack of
appearing totally at home, no matter where she was, while
Evie had never had the gift and now felt as if she stood out
like a sore thumb.
‘Where’s your new house?’ she asked brightly.
Her father and Vida exchanged another meaningful
glance.
‘On Bracken Road. The Grange at the crossroads.’
‘Oh.’ Evie knew the house, a large old manor not unlike
Olivia’s parents’ house. ‘It’s very big for one person,’ she
said absently. ‘Do you have family living with you? Your
husband?’
As soon as she said it, Evie realised how bitchy it
sounded. Have you got a husband or are you looking for one?
Is that why you’re dangling around my father? She hadn’t
meant it to sound like that.
If Vida thought the question was barbed, she seemed
unconcerned. She poured tea into the china mugs Andrew
had laid on the pine kitchen table.
‘No, my last husband is dead. He died a long time ago, in
America.’
Again, there was a pregnant pause.
‘Let’s take the tea into the sitting room,’ said Andrew
briskly.
There they sat around the fire Rosie had managed to
light and talked about the drive from Dublin, the weather
and what time the guests were coming for the drinks party.
“I said half-six for seven, which leaves us an hour to get
ready,’ Andrew said, with a quick glance at his watch.
‘Early drinks parties are better because then everyone
doesn’t sit around until the wee small hours getting
sozzled’
‘Which would be a huge waste of time,’ Vida said to
him, a warm smile lighting up her face.
She was beautiful, Evie realised with a pang, feeling like
a giant blimp in a room full of sleek specimens. She must
have been absolutely stunning when she was younger
because she was pretty stunning now.
‘We met at a cocktail party,’ Vida said in a confiding
voice.
Rosie grinned. “I didn’t know you were into cocktail
parties, Grandpops?’
Her grandfather grinned back. ‘I wasn’t, until I met this
lady. She’s teaching me lots of new things.’ They both laughed.
‘Not only about cocktails,’ murmured Vida, in a voice
she hadn’t planned on anyone else hearing, but which
Evie, who could hear a whispered comment across four
desks in Wentworth Alarms, heard only too clearly.
She couldn’t cope with this bizarre conversation any
longer. Nobody was telling her anything and she just had to
know.
‘So, you two are going out?’ she asked bluntly.
The beatific look on her father’s face told her everything.
‘More
than going out, darling Evie,’ he said slowly,
dragging his eyes away from Vida. ‘I know I should have
told you some of this earlier, but it all happened so suddenly and I wanted to tell you in person: Vida and I are getting married. I wanted to tell the three of you together,
you, Rosie and Cara, but since you’ve asked …’
Evie stared at him, feeling as if the bottom had fallen
out of her world. Married. He was getting married again?
She thought of the photographs on the card table, the
faded one of her parents in their wedding clothes, her
mother in an oyster satin dress with a bright stain of red
lipstick on her mouth. Her wonderful dead mother, whom
she’d never stopped missing; the person Dad had mourned
for so long. Didn’t that mean anything to him at all? How
could he even
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