“He’s a long way off leaving, Mrs. Marley. Your Susie’s only little.”
“My Susie.” She smiled tenderly at the thought of her. “She’s a little ’un. At least I’ve got little Susie.”
“Time flies, though, doesn’t it?” Ava hesitated a moment. “I want to freeze them so they never grow up. I’d like to freeze myself. I don’t want to grow up either.”
Mrs. Marley laughed and handed her a pair of oven gloves. “Trouble is, Mrs. L., you never feel grown-up inside. It’s a shock to look at myself in the mirror every morning, it really is. I used to have jet-black hair. It was my crowning glory. Now I’m as gray as a pigeon!”
As Ava was leaving the kitchen, a dish of crisp roast potatoes in her hands, she was met by Jean-Paul. “Can I help?” he asked.
“Thank you,” she replied. “But it’s in hand. You go and entertain those girls.” She grinned at him mischievously.
“You don’t think I’m interested, do you?”
“Why ever not? They’re pretty enough.”
“They are too young and inexperienced for my taste. I like a woman who has lived. Those girls are nice, but they are as unripe as a pair of green apples on a tree.”
“Really, Jean-Paul,” she protested, feeling her cheeks turn hot.
“I prefer the apple to have fallen off the tree.”
“Those bruised and browning fruit ravaged by bees?” She walked past him down the corridor towards the dining room. But the way he had looked at her remained in the crimson hue of her cheeks.
“Yes. Those are the best. They taste sweeter. The green ones are a little sour.”
Ava walked into the dining room with a bounce in her step and a wide smile on her face. She had felt old and dowdy next to Lizzie and Samantha, but now she felt attractive, something she hadn’t considered in a long time. Her looks had never been high on her list of priorities. Of course, Jean-Paul was teasing. She was married and there was no chemistry between them anyway. But a little flattery never did any harm.
Jean-Paul was placed between Lizzie and Samantha. Toddy kept an eye from the other end of the table where she sat between Phillip and Donald. The three young people were laughing and joking together. Toddy was pleased. She was fond of her cousins and particularly fond of Ava. She relished the idea of returning a few favors by taking Jean-Paul off her hands. If Lizzie and Samantha introduced him to their crowd, Ava would be grateful. After all, what was she going to do with him when they weren’t gardening? The poor man had to have young people his own age to socialize with. She knew how Ava hated to feel caged in by anyone but Phillip.
Ava looked at her children. Having larked about during the main course, they were silent as they tucked into Mrs. Marley’s blackberry and apple crumble with custard. Poppy was struggling to serve herself another dollop of custard. Ava sensed she was being watched and turned to find Jean-Paul gazing at her wistfully. She frowned. He snapped out of his trance and nodded towards Poppy. Ava pulled a face to indicate that there was nothing to do but leave her to it. She felt a moment’s confusion. His gaze had been full of tenderness.
Jean-Paul went to Poppy’s aid before the jug tipped its contents over the table. Ava turned to talk to her father, making a conscious effort not to look at Jean-Paul. His flirting was charming, but she wasn’t going to swoon like those gushing girls, both silent now that he had left them. Besides, flirtation wasn’t appropriate at the lunch table in front of her husband, nor was it appropriate given that Jean-Paul was her employee.
After lunch Verity announced that it was time to leave. “The A303 will be a nightmare on a Sunday afternoon if we don’t hit it early.” Donald was just settling into the sofa beside Samantha, where he had longed to be since she had arrived, when Verity sent him to find Heinz. “The last I heard he was playing pirates at the hollow tree,” she told him.
“No, darling, I gave him his lunch in the back of the car, then let him have a wander. Why don’t you go and call him? He answers to you.”
“If he’s at the other end of the garden he won’t hear me.” She shook her head at his futile attempts to chat up a girl young enough to be his daughter. “Really, old men are so sad!” she hissed to Ava as she strode into the hall. “Have you seen Heinz?”
“I’ll help you look,” Ava volunteered. Jean-Paul remained in the drawing room talking to Lizzie on the club fender. Samantha tried to concentrate on Donald’s questions, but her eyes kept drifting over to her sister.
“Poor Daddy,” said Ava. “Samantha’s longing to talk to Jean-Paul, but she’s stuck.”