by Rosalie Ash
As the crowd began to filter into the dining-room, Victoria was separated from Matt and Jessica. She looked around, and saw Matt in deep conversation with a dark haired woman in a red velvet dress. She had an uncomfortable feeling they might be discussing her, as she saw the woman turn in her direction and flick a cool glance over her. Victoria gazed back levelly, taking in the girl’s pale skin and glossy black bob, the crimson lipstick making a sensational statement against the porcelain face. For the first time she felt glad of the slim black dress and sleek hairstyle Jessica had helped her acquire today. The amount of underhand conniving involved in their acquisition still made her boil deep down inside, however. But staying cool was her aim this evening. Losing her temper, showing Matt her feelings, were both to be avoided if she could possibly manage it.
Victoria turned deliberately away and searched the crowd for Jessica, who appeared to know enough people to be chatting animatedly. Victoria felt very alone in the crowd, and fervently wished she were back at the farm.
When she felt Matt's hand on her arm, she had to hide her small stab of relief.
‘Sorry to neglect you,’ he murmured, ‘Can I get you another drink?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ She glanced at the glass of champagne in her hand, which she’d been sipping cautiously.
‘What do you think of this?’
Matt was running his hand appreciatively over the piece of furniture behind her.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s an eighteenth century commode. Tulip-wood and parquetry. It should fetch around half a million tomorrow.’
She stared at it. 'Imagine paying that much for something eighteenth-century French aristocrats peed in.’
Matt laughed. Her heart did a brief involuntary lurch. It was a long time since she had seen Matt laugh. She glanced away from him, afraid of what he might see.
‘Who was that woman you were talking to just now?’ She couldn't stop herself from asking, even though she wished she could stay cool and disinterested.
‘Emma. My secretary.’ Matt’s eyes still held a gleam of amusement. ‘Would you like me to introduce you?’
Victoria was conscious that Emma was still watching them, and there was something unsettling in the woman’s gaze.
‘No thanks.’ Victoria felt herself beginning to go red, and gritted her teeth, ‘But don’t feel you’ve got to waste your evening with me. She looks as if she’d prefer you to stay with her.’
‘Jealous?’ Matt’s sudden grin was dazzling.
‘Jealousy would imply that I have the faintest of residual feelings for you,’ she said with dignity, ‘So obviously, no I am not jealous.’
‘Of course not.’ But there was still a smug smile on his lips that made her fume inwardly. She was tempted to throw her champagne in his face.
'Well, did you notice it?' he asked, as they sat down for dinner.
'Notice what? What was I supposed to be interested in?'
'The cream ware, like the bird-jug at the farm. There's a complete set displayed on one of the Louis XV tables. It'll probably fetch more than the table.'
'Oh.' She gazed straight in front of her, and sensed Matt's curiosity at her reaction.
'Did you ever find any more pieces at the farmhouse?'
'No.' She stared at her plate, wrestling with her feelings. That chipped cream ware bird-jug, and her subsequent search for more of the set, had mixed connotations for her now, all of them unpleasant. She shook her head, seeking a quick change of subject.
'I thought you said to Jessica that you'd resigned from De Lembers. How come you're here tonight, and in such demand?'
Matt was eyeing her speculatively. She could see he was puzzled by her lack of interest in the cream ware. She made her expression as bland and unforthcoming as she could.
'I'm retained as a consultant,' he explained. 'I've still got a suite of offices, up at the top of the building. How long I'll keep up the connection, I'm not sure. It's hard to cut loose from everything you've worked to build up.'
'So why did you?'
'It's a long story. I'll tell you about it another time.
'Why did you bring me here tonight, Matt?'
'I thought you'd be interested to see a complete set of the cream ware,' he said slowly. 'Obviously I was wrong. But I admit I also wanted to introduce you to, well, to my world, for want of a better description. Or what has been my world up until now.'
Her throat tightened, and she struggled to retain her composure.
'Why on earth should I need to be introduced to 'your world' as you call it?'
'Don't you think you should know a little more about the father of your son?'
She could feel the fire in her cheeks, and the conversations nearest them seemed to die away into the distance. She sensed their intense awareness of each other was attracting curious looks, and she turned her attention back to her meal, hardly tasting what she ate.
'All you've succeeded in doing is providing your colleagues and customers with some amusing gossip,' she said in a low voice.
'Eat your asparagus,' he advised casually. 'It's steamed to perfection. You’ve changed your hair,” he added, ‘You and Jessica could be twins now.’
‘It’s not permanent.’ She smoothed a hand down the unusual feel of it, and shrugged, ‘The first shower of rain will have it curling uncontrollably again.’
There was a small silence.
‘Tell me about Roundwell Farm,' Matt invited, the silver eyes impossible to read. 'What are you doing, exactly?'
'Totally reorganising it,' she said, welcoming the chance to discuss something she was familiar with. 'I don't know if you remember how it was when Dad was alive. Mainly dairy, with some arable. Well, he sold off the cows before he died. When we took over, the farm was losing money rapidly. We sold off over half the acreage to our neighbour, a sheep farmer, in the end, and the three of us decided to reopen the herb and flower nursery. We’ve got a farm shop, we sell our own herbs and plants, obviously, and we also stock organic meat and vegetables from local suppliers.’
‘So you, Jessica and Megan are running the business together.’
‘Yes. Well, we employ a small team of staff, obviously. We couldn’t do it all completely by ourselves. Its working well so far. Even though the summer season is over, we’re doing well with herbs in the polytunnels, and with Christmas themed stuff. Jessica runs the farm shop and does all the accounts, Megan’s the hands-on gardener, because that’s what she was doing before, she had her own gardening business. And I’m in charge of writing the nursery blog, and I’ve been setting up an on-line herb business. Bill, Dad’s old farm foreman, runs the packaging warehouse in one of the barns. It’s all going to be great, once it really gets going, and…'
'Are you short of money?' Matt interrupted abruptly. She gave him a militant stare.
'That's none of your business!’
She doubted if he’d even been listening to her. As if he would be interested in discussing a small rural business in Warwickshire, when he was surrounded by directors from famous art galleries and professors from the Royal College of Art, and numerous other cognoscenti of the world of antiques and fine art.
‘You’re not eating anything,’ Matt pointed out quietly.
'I’m not very hungry,' she ground back, suddenly longing to escape. She told herself that she hated the atmosphere here. If this was Matt Larson's world, he was welcome to it. What a lot of fuss, after all, over a few pieces of varnished wood.
With a tense movement she drained her wine glass, and set it down on the damask cloth with an abrupt thud.
'Would you like a refill?'
'No, thanks. I've learnt my lesson. I drink only in moderation these days,' she said in a brittle voice. Matt made no comment, but she could feel his eyes on her, thoughtful, speculative, and something seemed to snap inside.
'So you see, I'm a perfectly fit mother. I'm not an alcoholic, I don't take drugs, I'm providing my son with a healthy country upbringing. Are you satisfied?'
'I'm not vetting you, if that's what you're implying,' said Matt with a short laugh. 'Nor was I watching how much you were drinking. You're very touchy, Victoria.'
'Well, I'm sorry!' she burst out. 'It's just that I'm having trouble adjusting to this weird situation, that's all. Two years ago, you wanted nothing to do with me. Now suddenly you reappear, and require my company at some professional dinner at De Lembers. If you didn't have an ulterior motive, I'd be completely bewildered! But of course you have. And frankly, I find all this, this mock show of interest, this pretence of caring about what I'm doing with the farm, utterly unconvincing. You've discovered you've got a son. Very exciting for you! Why don't you just be honest about it? I'll arrange for you to see him occasionally, I'll even send you photographs of his various 'stages of development'—just spare me this insincere attempt to get to know each other better. It's too late, Matt! Two years too late.'
There was a charged silence. Victoria realised she had probably spoken quite loudly in her anger, and there was a touch more colour in Matt's dark cheeks as he leaned back in his chair, staring grimly into the distance.
'Is it time we were going?' said Jessica, leaning over and glancing astutely from one to the other. Matt nodded wordlessly, standing up and ushering both women out of the crowded room. Pausing only to make their apologies to the chairman and his wife, Matt led the way out of the building to the private car park at the back, every angle of his body reflecting his steely displeasure.
They were half-way back to Warwickshire before anything else was said. Jessica had quickly climbed into the back of the car and Victoria realised that she’d have to sit in the front with Matt. Even in her fraught emotional state, she perceived it would look too immature and childish if she climbed in the back with her sister. In any case she had no desire to talk to Jessica now, after today’s events.
'Sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your colleagues,' she said at last, in a low, taut voice. She wasn't particularly sorry. She was still too angry to feel remorse. But she was very aware that she had overstepped the mark. Goodness knew what the society columnists would make of it. There had been two or three there, as Matt and Jessica had pointed out earlier.
'Think nothing of it. I just hope it made you feel better,' came the dry retort. Victoria said nothing. It hadn't made her feel better. She couldn't remember ever feeling so wretched in her life, not even when she was waiting and waiting to hear from Matt, not even when she found she was pregnant, and finally gave up hoping that Matt was ever going to contact her.
She wasn't sure who she was most angry with, Matt, Jessica or herself. She should have controlled all that raw emotion. She should have stayed cool, and avoided that emotional outburst. But she had let her heart rule her head yet again.
Hunched miserably in her seat, hating herself, she stared stiffly out of her window as the Mercedes silently gobbled up the miles back to the farm.
Chapter Thirteen
Victoria had her mobile under her chin and was simultaneously tapping away on her laptop when Jessica pushed open the kitchen door and peered in, her expression wary, 'Can you spare a few minutes?'
Waving her in, Victoria quickly ended the call, 'Look, don’t worry, I’ll chase up the suppliers and call you back, OK?' She dropped her mobile onto the table, ‘More crises in our packaging barn! Bill’s panicking because the latest mailing boxes haven’t been delivered and he can’t pack up all the internet orders.’
She pushed away her laptop, and the pile of paperwork she’d been working through and attempted a smile. She was horribly conscious of strain persisting between them.
‘Are you on your own?’ Jessica said, ‘Where’s my gorgeous baby nephew?’
‘Elspeth has taken him with her and gone into town to the supermarket. They’ll be back any minute.’ Elspeth was one of Andrew’s relatives, who lived in and helped with Archie.
It was a week since the fiasco of meeting Matt in London and since then she and Jessica had only spoken on business matters, briefly and stiffly.
'Well, I’m here to make peace, hopefully. But I wasn't quite sure of my welcome. Am I forgiven for last weekend?'
'I'm not sure,' Victoria said, eyeing her older sister with mixed emotions. As usual, Jessica looked as if she’d just stepped out of a glossy magazine; perfectly groomed in ankle boots, tailored black trousers and a cream cashmere sweater, her face subtly made-up and glowing, her hair smooth and shiny. Admittedly, Jessica’s main role was in face to face customer liaison, she managed the farm shop and the cafe, so she had a reason to look well-groomed. But Victoria became conscious for the first time that day of her own neglected appearance. Her hair was a mess, back to being wildly long and curly, she was devoid of makeup with shadows under her eyes, and her jeans and Arran sweater were old and baggy. A week of relatively sleepless nights had taken their toll in more ways than one.
'I still haven't the faintest idea why you did it,’ she said, ‘I've been thinking it over all week, and for the life of me I can't work out why my own sister should deliberately drop me in it like that!'
'I'd love a cup of tea, if you've got time,' said Jessica levelly, walking in and flopping into a chair in the kitchen where an enormous dark oak refectory table dominated the centre of the room.
‘Jessica, I really am very busy with orders…’
'Vic, darling, can we talk, please? You’re working too hard anyway, you look terrible!'
‘Thanks a lot!’
Spinning abruptly on her heel, Victoria plugged the kettle in with unnecessary force, then subsided into a chair on the opposite side of the table. Rough, still going strong despite his age, climbed out of his basket and came to lie hopefully on his back with his legs in the air, a beseeching look on his mournful black and white face. She bent to stroke him, glad of the excuse to hide her stormy feelings.
‘Okay, let’s talk.’ She sat back, glaring at Jessica, ‘Tell me why you threw me into that situation with Matt! Without any warning?’
'Victoria, if you must know, I did it because I know how much you love baby Archie!'
Victoria stared at her, raking a weary hand through her hair.
'I think you'd better explain that statement.'
'I know you want the best for Archie. You want him to be happy. And therefore you wouldn't want to deprive him of the chance to know his father.'
'But why all the subterfuge? You made me look a complete fool.'
'Could that be because you’re behaving like a complete fool?’
‘Thanks a lot for your vote of confidence!’
‘Anyway, you can talk about subterfuge!’ Jessica forged on, ignoring her, ‘What on earth were you thinking, pretending to me that you’d spoken to Matt about the baby, when you hadn’t?
‘I was trying to get you off my back!’ Victoria said, ‘You kept on and on at me to tell him, but it was the very last thing I wanted to do! You wouldn’t listen to me. Jessica, you’re my sister, I would have thought your loyalties would have been with me! You could at least have given me some warning of what you were setting up last weekend!’
‘If I'd asked you to meet Matt, would you have agreed?' Jessica countered forcefully. 'Of course not! You’ve spent the last couple of years resenting the fact that Matt never contacted you after that first weekend with him. Maybe he felt he had no reason to. I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem to have occurred to you that you had every reason to contact him! You knew you were having his baby, and you didn’t tell him! My God, Vic, when I talked about this with Megan, even she was incensed!’ Victoria presumed this was a nod to Megan’s more laid back, liberal values, but raised her eyebrows nevertheless, ‘She agrees with me that you need to stop playing the abandoned martyr and bloody well grow up!'
‘I am grown up! I may only be 20 but I’m a single mother, helping to run our own business, coping as best I can with my life!’ Victoria burst out passionately. ‘And thanks for gossiping with Megan behind my back! It’s alright for you two! There’
s Megan with her own gardening business and her gardening therapy stuff to make herself feel good, and there’s you in your perfect world with your perfect dress sense, and your perfect doting husband and your two perfect little children and your perfect high-flying proper accountancy career waiting for you whenever you choose to go back to it!’
In the total silence which followed the kettle suddenly boiled and turned itself off with a loud click.
Jessica abruptly got up to make the tea, laying the tray with much muted clicking of crockery. When she put it on the table between them, Victoria watched as Jessica poured her a cup of tea with a commendably steady hand.
‘Okay,’ Jessica said slowly, ‘Wow, if the gloves are off, you’d better let me have the rest of it! I had no idea you resented Megan and me in that way!’