This time she did not dismiss it. When David held her hand across the table and complimented her cooking, she smiled at him, masking the fear that had punctured her heart. Had Blythe’s gesture been an isolated one, she wouldn’t have given it so much weight. But it was one of many small things that, added together, made an uncomfortably heavy package.
Jeremy arrived late at the town hall. The party was well under way by the time he entered in a pair of brown trousers and blue open-necked shirt. He had bathed and shaved, shut the dogs in the kitchen and driven into town with the intention of arriving on time. However, half a mile out of town the car began to wobble, then limp and finally grind to a halt on the side of the road. He swore and hit the steering wheel in fury, but there was nothing he could do. The tire was flat. Instead of dropping to his knees in the mud and changing it, he left it there and proceeded to walk instead. He was damned if he was going to ruin his chances with Henrietta by turning up covered in mud and sweat.
Henrietta arrived, in a pair of wide black trousers and a long ivory jacket with sharp shoulders and nipped-in waist. She had read What Not to Wear and gone shopping in Blandford with Troy. They had chosen the outfit together. “Monochrome is very in, darling,” Troy had said, helping her slip into the jacket. “It’s a size fourteen.” Henrietta was thrilled. She had always believed she was a sixteen. She scanned the room for Troy, longing to show her new look off. But before she had time to step into the room, she was grabbed by Cate, demanding to know why she hadn’t dropped in for her coffee recently. “I’ve been so busy,” she lied.
“Rubbish!” Cate snapped. “You’re never busy in that shop of yours. What have you done? You’ve done something.” She narrowed her eyes and studied her from top to toe. “Have you lost weight?”
Henrietta smiled secretively. “I don’t think so.”
“Yes, you have. It’s a good start,” she said. “Well done.” She made the words sound like a rebuke.
“Have you seen Troy?”
“No.” Cate looked sour. “I don’t see much of him either. It’s a conspiracy.”
“It really isn’t, Cate.”
“If you’re worried about getting fat, you don’t have to gorge yourself on cakes. Why don’t you just come in for a black coffee?”
“I will,” she conceded weakly, wishing Troy were there to support her.
“That’s a new jacket. It’s nice. Better not get it dirty.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Wouldn’t want to eat chocolate cake in that.” Henrietta felt uncomfortable. Cate always made her feel inadequate.
She gazed around the room, longing to be rescued. The vicar was talking to Colonel Pike, her voice rising with indignation. He had clearly said something to offend her. Mary and Jack Tinton were back in contemporary clothes, drinking glasses of warm wine, smiling smugly at the amount of money they had made hassling tourists to take their photographs for a fiver. Mrs. Underwood was in her best floral dress, her lips painted scarlet, her large feet squeezed into a pair of white shoes a size too small for her, talking to Derek Heath and his wife Lesley. Nick and Steve were surrounded by a group of excitable girls, all vying for their attention. Both young men were blond and handsome, prizes yet to be won. Nick raised his eyes at Mrs. Underwood and nudged his brother. With her mouth agape and her formidable eyes fixed on their father, she was an astonishing sight for such a sensible woman. They knew their father was too self-effacing to notice. Mr. Underwood was deep in conversation with their uncle Arthur, sharing his views on edible mushrooms. Even Henrietta’s sister, Clare, was busy talking to William van den Bos. Henrietta felt very conspicuous.
Then a voice came from behind—like a rope to a stricken vessel just as she was about to sink. She turned to see Jeremy’s long, handsome face smiling diffidently at her. His pink cheeks accentuated the blue of his eyes and the indecent length of his feathery blond eyelashes. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed them before.
“Jeremy.” She greeted him as if he were her oldest, dearest friend. “It’s so nice to see you.”
She was more beautiful than he remembered. “You look well,” he said, wincing at the inadequate words.
She blushed. “Thank you.”
“It’s the heat,” cut in Cate. “You look like you need some fresh air.”
“Actually, you’re absolutely right,” Henrietta replied, gaining strength from Jeremy’s presence beside her. “Jeremy, would you come with me? You never know who might be lurking on the green.”