by Janey Lewis
This had caused a bit of an upset, and strikes were threatened, until Jonathan stepped in and told the estate workers their jobs were safe. It was merely that Edmund had seen a waste of expenditure that could be used in other areas.
Edmund shared his frustration about Jonathan’s interference with Liberty. But she assured him it was just because his father was still living there.
‘You will naturally defer to him. Wait until he goes off to France. Now, try these arancini.’ And she popped the piping hot morsel into his open mouth.
Deirdre, who was sitting nearby on a bar stool, smiled as she watched Edmund swallow the tiny, deep-fried risotto ball with a filling of buffalo mozzarella. They would be excellent on a chicory salad with some parmesan shavings and maybe some fried sage, she advised, and she told Edmund she would have a word with Jonathan regarding his departure for the south of France.
‘I don’t know why he is prevaricating; he and Paloma hit it off so well.’
‘I think he is scared of leaving Denhelm after all these years,’ said Edmund, and pronounced the mouthful yummy. Liberty had popped out of the room, and Deirdre smiled at him and said, ‘You don’t have to say everything is perfect, you know. She likes you anyway.’
Edmund flushed and told her it might be better at Denhelm when the café opened, as Mrs Goodman was fed up with him leaving most of his supper after filling up at Duck End!
‘What news of Gray and Savannah?’ asked Liberty, rushing back in with Teal close behind.
‘Gray couldn’t say much, as he was phoning from their home. In fact, he seemed very upbeat, as though Khalid was in the room, although he insisted he was phoning from his bedroom, which by all accounts is a house in the grounds! He said they all seemed blissfully happy and we shouldn’t worry. He said that he was all right and everything was going to be OK. Either he was on something or his mind was on Bangladesh, where by all accounts the floods are getting worse. His flight has been cancelled twice.’
‘So what will he do until then?’
‘Wait at Savvie’s until he gets the go-ahead. All flights have been cancelled until the monsoon clears.’
‘But you and your Pa must be pleased that Savvie is happy?’ said Liberty. ‘I don’t understand it. I’ve emailed Gray to give me the full picture, but have yet to hear back and Savvie has not returned my emails either. Do you believe Gray?’ Liberty thought back to the conversation she had with Gray just before he left. Had he been right? Was it all true love and just a huge misunderstanding? Why hadn’t she heard from either of them?
‘Oh, don’t be so impatient,’ snapped Edmund a little too sharply, still worried about his beloved sister despite Gray’s protestations that everything was coming up roses. Nothing was that perfect, was it? He allowed his gaze to rest on Liberty’s fair face for a moment too long before continuing more gently, ‘He’s only been there for a few days, so maybe he’s waiting to see more of them together so he can judge the situation better. It does seem he has been forgetting his own worries and playing with the children.’
‘That must be lovely for him,’ said Liberty wistfully. ‘I wondered how Khalid would react to him staying there after Savannah said he was horrified that Gray was gay.’
‘Mmm, Gray did mention he was slightly concerned before he arrived, but Khalid was all welcoming and the good host, proudly showing off his stud farm and taking him off into the desert to hunt with his falcons. I can’t work out whether Gray has been wowed by Khalid, and is therefore not checking on Savannah, or maybe everything is just wonderful after all? We need to hear from the horse’s mouth, and Savannah is keeping shtum for whatever reason. But I do feel a little better after Gray’s reassurance. I had better go – I promised to take Mrs G to the farm shop. She can’t walk there with these drifts. We would never find the little lady if she fell into one, and the estate would surely revolt on me if anything happened to her! She will be garbed up by now in her galoshes. Thanks for lunch.’ And he grinned at Liberty and kissed Deirdre.
‘He’s got a wee crush on you, young lady,’ said Deirdre after he left.
‘Don’t be silly,’ sighed Liberty. ‘He’s just grown a bit softer, and likes to escape from the angry workers!’
Liberty had a fair amount of free time on her hands now that LIBERTEAS was all set for its Easter opening. So she decided on a trip to London to catch up with J-T and find out how things were progressing between him and Bob. And she knew she should meet Percy, tell him of her plans and say a real goodbye.
As she sped along, Teal illegally but comfortingly on her lap, she mused how much things had changed in the past eight months. Although she was delighted with her new life, she did miss the excitement of London, and she had so much enjoyed her time living with the CRs. She hoped Cecil was not too unwell; she must visit them.
To lighten the mood, she turned up the volume on her stereo. Lady Gaga almost woke the snoring pug, but then Neil Diamond calmed both driver and passenger.
Bob and J-T lived in Covent Garden, in a charming town house. It was a jewel among converted warehouses and shops. It felt like stumbling on Diagon Alley with Harry Potter. If you were window shopping or looking for one of the many cafés on the narrow street, you could walk past their smart black front door and miss the house completely; but when you knew it was there it appeared so Ideal Homes you couldn’t resist ringing the bell and standing back to look up at it.
This is exactly what Liberty did, having managed to find a parking spot a few streets away. Teal was doing very well. It was the first time she had displayed her smart harness from Mungo & Maude – cream with black stitching and a matching lead. She trotted happily at Liberty’s heel as though, to her, London was no different to the tranquil village of Littlehurst. She loved all the attention from passers-by, as pugs always do. She only disgraced herself once by weeing on a chap’s shoe as he smoked a cigarette outside his office. Liberty got away with it as after his initial expletive and move to give the small dog a large kick up the backside the man looked up and saw the beauty on the end of the lead and decided Teal was really a charming little creature. Of course it could wee on his tasselled loafers, beastly uncomfortable things.
Liberty peered at the narrow windows. The house was built of black bricks with white painted sash windows. She hoped everything was all right. At last, a cacophony of yapping indicated that at least the dogs had heard the bell, and would alert J-T. The door was flung open, and she was enveloped in a hug.
‘You look well!’ they cried simultaneously.
‘I expected to find you a shadow of your former self,’ explained Liberty as she followed J-T upstairs to the apartment; the ground floor and basement were used for their offices and studio.
‘I’ve been a very good boy: no drinking, cooking for Bob – well, buying in and reheating – and being a very good house husband.’
‘Back in the bedroom yet?’ she enquired.
‘Not permanently, no, but I have been allowed to visit. Bob has been wonderful – he’s trying to cut back on work and I’m trying to ignore temptation by not getting tempted in the first place. And how is Gray? I still feel awful for him. He sent a lovely letter, but seeing as Bob and I have managed to hold it together, if only just, he definitely had the short straw.’
‘He seemed all right, better than all right, before he left for Bangladesh. I think it was a weight off his shoulders when he finally had to tell his father. Anyway, we can fill each other in over lunch. But I need to leave Teal here with your two, and she probably needs to use your garden first.’
J-T took all the dogs out while Liberty freshened up in the bathroom, all gold leaf and black marble.
‘You have redecorated again,’ she marvelled as she met J-T downstairs.
‘Only because we ordered that suite for one of our clients from an Italian store and they went off it at the last minute. They had paid and it would have been churlish to throw away a hand-made marble washbasin and loo.’
‘People really have
marble loos?’ asked Liberty, laughing. ‘I thought it was just meant to look like marble.’
‘That is the precise problem with it – nobody thinks it can be real, which instantly makes it appear cheap, despite costing God knows what. We even had to strengthen the floor to put it in!’
‘It looks unbelievable,’ said Liberty politely, privately thinking that the two tasteful designers had scored a definite miss.
‘Where am I to take you, little Country Bumpkin?’ asked J-T. ‘I thought you may like something a little more lively than you are used to?’
‘What I would love is to go to Rules. I have no need for fashionable and busy, I want to catch up with you, and Rules is perfect for warming winter food and good service, and it always feels like home. And we are unlikely to come across anyone we know.’
‘Why is that important?’ asked J-T, tucking his hand under her arm and steering her along the pavement.
‘Not sure, but I am getting twitchy about phoning Percy. I should see him and talk about what we do next.’
They were walking through Covent Garden. J-T stopped and faced her.
‘You haven’t called him to let him know you are coming?’
‘No. I thought I would go round after work.’
‘So you haven’t heard the gossip, then,’ said J-T, pulling Liberty close beside him again, so they could keep warm.
‘What gossip? What do you mean?’
‘I think we need a drink first.’
They stepped off the busy street into the calm oasis of Rules. It was like going into a bygone era. Smart polished brass, old prints, starched linen on small tables mostly occupied by dark-suited men who looked as though they were used to enjoying the finer things in life. Unusually for the modern day, especially at lunch, most tables bore bottles of wine. The only thing missing was the fug of cigar smoke, otherwise it could have been a gentlemen’s club. Specialising in game and fine wines, Rules was reportedly the oldest existing restaurant in London.
Waiters in long white drill aprons took orders and managed to complete a merry dance between the tightly packed tables, serving efficiently and subtly. It was the kind of restaurant where most people had a regular lunch table, but tourists who had heard of its reputation were also eagerly welcomed, despite an eyebrow being raised towards jeans and trainers. They were simply placed away from established clientele and once seated the tablecloths rendered their indiscretions barely visible.
J-T and Liberty were given a table for two in the window. Once each held a glass of Montrachet and had ordered – oysters Rockefeller for J-T followed by rib-eye and chips, venison carpaccio for Liberty followed, disloyally, by teal in a crayfish sauce – Liberty repeated, ‘Come on, now. What gossip?’
‘It came from Bob, and as you know, he doesn’t ever pass on gossip unless it’s true.’
J-T was reddening under Liberty’s gaze.
‘Go on,’ she insisted. ‘I’m waiting.’
‘Um, well, he heard that the wife of a crony of Percy’s was expecting a baby.’
‘So?’
‘Well, um, her husband is well past sixty, and it has been sort of known for some time that Percy has been seen with this lady in, um, well, hotels, sort of thing.’
Liberty’s eyes grew ever wider.
‘It’s his baby?’
J-T was quiet for a few moments. ‘It’s just gossip, that’s all. I don’t know any more than that.’
‘But who is she?’
‘You will have to ask Percy. I just didn’t want you popping over to your old place in case she was there or Percy was decorating the nursery.’ J-T had meant this as a joke – he couldn’t imagine anyone less able to pick up a paintbrush than Percy – but one look at his friend’s face told him he had put his perfectly shod foot straight in his mouth. Liberty took a large gulp of wine and waited to feel shock, anger, jealousy or any other emotion.
‘Don’t tell me your sense of taste has gone again,’ jested J-T, still trying to lighten the mood. ‘Bad timing would be just the start of it.’
‘No,’ replied Liberty, ‘I just feel sad.’
She found, when her venison arrived, that she had lost her appetite.
Liberty excused herself and almost ran to the ladies’, knocking chairs and waiters out of her way in her haste to get there before she broke down. Slamming the door of the cubicle in an unusual display of anger, she sat on the loo seat and burst into great anguished, wretched tears. She felt sick. Her heart was pounding and it took her a while, between sobs, to realize there was also a pounding on the door. Her friend was worried for her.
‘Darling girl,’ called J-T’s voice, ‘I’m guessing that’s you in there as the news I just gave you couldn’t have turned you into the pinch-faced witch crossing her legs out here.’ Liberty gasped with shock at her friend’s outrageous comment as she heard the outer door slam, but she stopped crying, came out, and allowed J-T to take her in his arms and comfort her.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ said J-T, all contrite. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘It was a shock, that’s all,’ said Liberty, trying desperately to pull herself together. Her mother had only just told her that if her night terrors had continued she would not have let her leave The Nuttery. Looks as though they would be returning!
‘I don’t think I will see Percy after all,’ she announced in a small voice, as she let J-T wipe her face and blow her nose like a small child.
‘Good idea,’ he said as he led her back into the dining room, grinning like the Cheshire cat at the pinch-faced witch, who had either wet herself or used the gents’.
‘I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose,’ said Liberty back at the table before downing a fresh glass of wine. ‘It’s really no business of mine.’ And she drained J-T’s glass. ‘Let’s change the subject. You asked how Gray was.’ And she started to ramble on, filling him in with news of his trip to Abu Dhabi and his impending work in Bangladesh.
J-T watched his friend’s beautiful face. The sadness once so prevalent in her eyes had returned, and he felt a pig to have put it there. He was aware she longed for her own baby, but he couldn’t let her go to her former home and have the shock of her life. Now he felt horrible and wanted to make it up to her.
‘Look, you are not eating, and much more of that wine on an empty stomach will make you go all silly. I would have to join in, and then we would end up in a bar until two in the morning and I will get into trouble and no one wants that to happen . . . again. So I’m going to get the bill and then take you on a gastro tour of the patisseries around here, maybe give you some ideas for your place and tempt your appetite back.’
Liberty looked relieved, and gratefully took J-T’s proffered hand. He paid the bill quickly, and scribbled a note down on one of his business cards, throwing it down on pinch-faced witch’s table as they left.
‘What did you say?’ asked Liberty.
‘Sorry,’ was all J-T answered as he dragged her off, his infectious giggling cheering her up.
Three hours later, and with a notebook covered with scribbling about the benefits of over-cooking pastry so it stayed crisp, and lining pastry cases so they stayed crisp, the need for soya milk and fructose for coffee and tea service and the idea of soft amaretti freshly made each day with sour cherries or candied peel instead of a chocolate to go with an after lunch espresso, Liberty felt both better and hungry again.
They bought strawberry tarts and coffee eclairs from the patisserie close to J-T’s house. Noting Liberty’s interest, the owner, who had inherited the place from his parents and loved his work, advised, ‘A touch of gelatin in the crème pâtissière makes it hold better in the millefeuilles.’
So the day had not been wasted.
‘Thank you, my good friend,’ said Liberty, feeling satisfied and happy. ‘I shall go home, call on Mummy and phone Percy from there with her to support me. By the way, what did you really put in that note?’
J-T got the giggles again. ‘I wrote, if she
ever needed to sit on the loo crying her eyes out, I hoped the girl outside wouldn’t be sighing and checking her manicure and might actually care about another human being.’ Liberty smiled sadly at him and told him he had spent too much time in the country.
‘I remember crying my eyes out in lots of loos all over the city after doing pregnancy tests. I was never asked if I was OK. Not once.’
They hugged for a long time, then kissed as they realised they would miss each other. J-T surprised her by asking after Edmund.
‘Oh, well, I think. Sweet man,’ was Liberty’s reply, and with that she scooped up Teal and left her friend standing on the street with his two dogs yapping a goodbye, pleased to be rid of the young pretender. J-T’s mouth was wide open.
‘By God, boys,’ he said to the loud-mouthed canines. ‘She’s going to be all right after all. The girl is in love!’ With that he punched the air, looked around, checking no one had witnessed the very un-gay behaviour, and went inside to find Bob.
39
Liberty drove home carefully, mindful of the wine at lunch and her complete confusion over Percy. He hadn’t not wanted children; he just hadn’t wanted children with me! had been Liberty’s first reaction. But now, after time to think, she realised she was jumping to conclusions. Was this woman pregnant at all? Or was it just gossip? She was aware that Percy had been attracting a fair amount of attention since his promotion; he seemed to be spending more time out of the office than in it, and the financial papers had been giving him a roasting because of it. Maybe the rumour of a baby was just to discredit him? It was all so difficult. If only Liberty had some facts, she could confront him, but all she had was a bit of gossip and an idea of who the other woman could be. She needed to chat with her mother. She tried to call, but there was no answer.