Reluctant Wife(15)

‘Come right this way,’ Roz invited. But as they sat down to an informal lunch with Milly and Jeanette, both great fans of Nicky, Roz wondered if there was something more than the weight of family interest bothering her pretty, vibrant sister-in-law. And she found herself remembering again what Margaret had said, and discovered that there was something else niggling at the back of her mind to do with Nicky, only she couldn’t dig it out.



Then she thought, we’ve got two weeks together, she might tell me of her own accord. If there is anything else to tell.





‘By the way,’ said Nicky that evening when they were watching a video in the den and laughing immoderately at the antics of Dudley Moore while they ate their supper off plates balanced on their knees, ‘where is Adam? I thought it was Saturday today.’



‘It is.’ Roz licked her fingers.



‘No races?’



‘Oh yes, but he’s working.’



Nicky raised her eyebrows. ‘Working? Darling Roz, don’t tell me we’re going poor again!’



‘Why do you say that?’



‘Because—well, I didn’t know he worked on Saturdays,’ Nicky explained, looking nonplussed. ‘You usually go the races, don’t you? To tell the truth, I didn’t expect to find you home when I arrived. I thought I might be able to sneak in.’



Roz started to speak, then paused as she was suddenly consumed by the enormity of having to explain that although Adam had never worked on a Saturday before during their entire marriage, that was what he was doing today, or had said that was what …



But then she heard his tread outside the den and she looked around at the door and closed her eyes in silent … relief? yes, when he walked in on them.



Nicky sprang up. ‘Adam! You must be a mind-reader! We were just talking about you.’



‘No wonder my ears were tingling!’ Adam said with a grin, but his eyes sought Roz’s over Nicky’s shoulder as he hugged her.



And she found herself smiling with … yes, relief again. Only a moment later Nicky unwittingly demolished it. ‘Roz said you were working,’ she confided artlessly, ‘but I couldn’t believe that, because according to Mum you don’t need to work ever again. That’s what she says anyway.’ She struck a pose. ‘My son Adam …’



‘I was, Nicky,’ Adam interrupted, ‘and of course I need to. Things don’t run themselves, nor have I tapped the rainbow. But to what,’ he enquired, ‘do we owe the honour of your presence two days early? I thought your weekend was accounted for—oh, don’t tell me! You’re broke.’



Fortunately his perspicacity caused Nicky to blush brightly, then dissolve into rueful laughter—and to forget about the oddity of her beloved, kindest, most understanding brother working on a Saturday.



But Roz couldn’t forget it, she found.



‘How are you?’ queried Adam, pouring himself a drink. Nicky had left them alone.



‘Fine! Would you like some dinner? I’m sure there’s some left, or I could make you something.’



‘No, thanks, I’ve eaten.’ He pulled his tie off and opened the white collar of his pink shirt, then took his drink over to the window while Roz rewound the video and turned the television off. In the ensuing silence she glanced across the room at him, standing tall and still with his back to her, apparently absorbed in the view although it was dark outside. She found herself marvelling because the last twenty-four hours—well, a bit longer, but not much—had again seen a radical change in her life, but like an iceberg, the largest part of it was below the surface. But then a lot of their life together had been like that, hadn’t it‘? And like an iceberg, that was the tricky, dangerous bit. Why dangerous? she mused. Am I being imaginative‘?



Then she said quickly, ‘I slept,’ as he turned and caught her watching him. ‘For hours.’ But immediately she wondered if it was a diplomatic thing to have said. Wasn’t it admitting that he was right?



But he only said, ‘Good,’ and came over to sit down in one of the comfortable leather armchairs, and when she sat down opposite him, he added, ‘Would you like a drink, by the way? Now you’re twenty-one.’



‘No, thanks,’ Roz said wryly. ‘You were right about that gin last night. I didn’t like it. So I think I’ll stick to wine with meals and the odd aperitif.’ She smoothed the skirt of her long aquamarine skirt which she wore with a navy blue peasant-style blouse with puffed sleeves, and aqua ribbon tying back her hair and navy blue flat velvet shoes.