Page 85 of Trouble

‘Let’s have another drink,’ said Meera, and Emily found herself released from the housekeeper’s iron grip and free to run for the door.

She sat down in a chair instead, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. At Meera’s prompting, she downed her first glass of wine in one gulp, and almost managed to smile when Akia refilled it.

‘I gave a man a fake name once,’ Akia said, with a wistful smile.

‘Oh, here we go,’ said Oliver.

‘Fine, then, I shan’t tell it.’

‘No,’ said Emily, desperate for some levity. ‘Please do.’

‘It was at my last house, and there was a gentleman who was the son of some wealthy old merchant who often used to visit .?.?. he hated socialising and would hide during the dinner parties until his father came to drag him out. I would often spot him curled up behind a curtain or sitting behind a side table and leave him a drink. One night he heard me placing a glass on the other side of the curtain and he asked me to stay and talk, so I did, and then it became a habit of ours, conversing through the fabric whenever I could find the time .?.?. we became rather good friends. I thought he might end our acquaintance if I told him who I truly was, so I told him I was called Lady Hestia for some reason, and he said his name was Bill. Of course, it turned out that he knew who I was all along, because the week I handed in my notice he stopped me in the hallway and gave me a letter addressed to Lady Hestia, and said he would miss our little chats, and that I had given him the courage to try life on the other side of the curtain. I do wonder how he is, sometimes. I still call him Bill in my head, although I always knew his name was actually Theophilus Elderspot.’

‘But .?.?. that wasn’t funny at all,’ Emily said, her throat feeling dangerously tight again.

‘No,’ said Meera. ‘That was actually very lovely.’

‘There is no need to seem so surprised,’ said Akia. ‘Iam very lovely.’

‘This is why you should almostalwayslie,’ said Oliver. ‘If it’s not funny, at least it’s interesting. Except when you do it, obviously, Emily.’

This exchange had given Emily enough time to drink another half a glass of wine and compose herself.

‘I didn’t mean to put you in a difficult position,’ she said, mostly to Meera. ‘By lying, I mean.’

‘What was the captain’s verdict?’ said Meera.

‘He wants me to stay,’ said Emily.

‘What’s yours?’ Joe said from behind her.

Emily had forgotten he was in the room, and did her best impression of a cat startled by a cucumber.

‘Um .?.?.’ she said, when her heart had ceased racing. ‘Staying. For now.’

Joe nodded. ‘That’s decided, then. Two chickens tonight, Meera.’

‘Two chickens,’ Meera repeated, patting Emily on the hand and giving her an encouraging smile.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

‘Mrs Spencer speaks French,’ Grace said, as she sat sandwiched between Aster and Emily, all three of them painting. Well .?.?. the children were painting. Emily was occasionally letting her brush wander across the page by accident, and had produced something that looked like the visual representation of a headache. ‘And Spanish. She told me so.’

‘Delightful,’ said Aster, head down over an arresting painting that was vaguely nautical. ‘She can condescend to us in three languages, then.’

‘Aster, I have made up my mind to be very grown-up about this,’ Grace said reprovingly. ‘I would appreciate it if you did the same.’

‘Oui,madame,’ said Aster. ‘You’re missing out the most important detail, though.’

‘What’s that?’

‘She has a dog.’

‘She has awhat?’ Grace shrieked, almost upsetting her water glass. ‘What sort of dog is it? How tall? What colour? Is it a puppy? How many legs?’

‘Just the one,’ said Aster. ‘A miracle and a tragedy.’

‘Don’t be such a broken brick, Aster! Did you see the dog? Was it here?’