“Oh, it already has. Elizabeth is eighteen and has a boyfriend at Stellenbosch University. Sophie is sixteen, and who knows what mischief she’s already got up to. Lucy’s a knockout, and I can see a knowing shadow in her eyes. She’s tasted the fruit of good and evil, I’d bet my life on it. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Children come through us, but they don’t belong to us.”
“That is a hard lesson for me to learn.”
“For all of us. Mine are still little, but Olivier will find it hard, especially with our daughter.”
“You never forget what they were like as little girls. In spite of their makeup and grown-up clothes, they’re still the same underneath. And they don’t know how naïve they are. They think they know everything. I want to stand at the helm of their lives and steer them through the mines.” Angelica felt a wave of tenderness. She, too, wanted to steer Isabel and Joe through the mines. “When you find the secret of happiness, let me know.”
“You, Jack, shall be the very first person I tell.”
After dinner Olivier remained at the table with Caterina and a few others while the rest of the guests adjourned to the sitting room, where a fire burned in the grate.
“Isn’t it a little early for fires?” asked Hester, flopping onto the sofa.
“It’s been the most miserable summer on record,” Scarlet replied, lighting a cigarette. “I’ve spent the last month in Italy, and I’m really feeling the cold. You horsey people never feel the cold.”
“It’s all that rolling around in the hay,” said Hester, laughing huskily.
“Do you really get up to all that?”
“As much as one can without frightening the horses,” Hester replied, glancing at her husband, who was standing by the window talking to Stash.
“I’d expect you to be burning up in those leather trousers,” said Angelica, joining Hester on the sofa.
Scarlet gave her a hand. “See, I’m as cold as a fish! I have terrible circulation.”
“You could eat more. You’re so skinny, you have no insulation,” said Angelica.
“Thank you for the compliment!” Scarlet puffed out a ring of smoke.
“I’d happily give you some of mine!”
“At our age, women have to choose between their faces and their figures,” said Hester, who had clearly chosen her face.
“So they say, but if my arse expands, my misery pulls my face down, so I choose my figure, every time. A little nip here or tuck there will take care of the face. As it is, I’m so riddled with Botox I can only just pull a smile.”
“I’ve sacrificed my figure by default, and it’s done nothing for my face,” said Angelica, noticing Jack talking to William in the library.
“Oh, I’d love your face, Angelica,” said Scarlet, warming her bottom at the fire. “We’d all love to look as wholesome as you. Trouble is, no amount of makeup can disguise my unscrupulous past.”
“Oh, I don’t think I look wholesome!”
“You do, like a field of golden wheat. You look like a fresh bun just out of the oven. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t been discovered to star in a Hovis advert.”
They all laughed, and Angelica caught Jack’s eye as he turned to see what was amusing them. His attention was like sunshine, and she basked in the delicious warmth of it.
Coffee and tea were brought in on a tray, and William and Jack joined the group in front of the fire. Angelica tried to behave naturally, but her whole body tingled with a pleasure as unfamiliar as the taste of a long-forgotten fruit. Jack’s smile was contagious. His hair, the color of wet hay, fell over his forehead until he pushed it back into shaggy waves like a lion’s mane. She admired the generous width of his face, his dark eyebrows that knitted together when he frowned, and his almond-shaped eyes that seemed to see the humor in everything. He dominated the party, his comments wittier than everyone else’s, his charisma brighter, and everyone laughed at everything he said.
“Jack, why don’t you play something?” Scarlet asked, lighting another cigarette. Scarlet was classically trained and never missed an opportunity to show off her talent. “Because if you don’t, I will.”
Jack needed no encouragement. “Bring me a glass of red wine, and I’ll play anything you want.” He went into the library and sat on the piano stool. The baby grand, a wedding present to Scarlet from William, was covered in silver photo frames and a large vase of tuberose. If Jack had impressed Angelica during dinner, it was as nothing compared to the sight of him at the piano. He began with jazz, his fingers dancing deftly over the keys, his powerful body moving in time with such grace and confidence it was as if the piano were an extension of him. Then he played their requests, and they all sang the songs of the Beatles, Abba, and Billy Joel. Angelica joined in, blushing each time he caught her eye, hoping he couldn’t hear her pitiful effort. Whether he did or not, he seemed to smile for her alone.