“The filling is perfect, I think you’ll agree,” said David, lifting the Telegraph to reveal his bowl.
“They have to cool before we ice them.”
“Then what shall we do in the meantime?”
Phaedra dipped her finger into the butter-and-sugar filling that David had beaten to a rich, creamy texture. “Mmmm, this is good. Do you want some?” She handed him his teaspoon.
He scooped up a dollop of mixture and put it in his mouth. “Really good,” he enthused. “So what would you like to do while the cakes cool?”
“Play cards?”
“All right.”
She began to clear the table. “I warn you, I’m a fierce opponent.”
“I witnessed your ferocity at the bridge table, remember?”
“Oh, I was just warming up.”
“Good, because I’m not a bridge player. I hold the family title for Racing Demon.”
“Only one family title?” she said with a laugh.
“There are many more, but I won’t bore you with my achievements. For now, let’s get the cards out, make another pot of tea . . .”
“A pot of tea: my, you do mean business!”
“I do indeed. Tea to an Englishman is as spinach to Popeye.”
“Then let’s see if you have as much brain as you have brawn! Deal the cards, my friend, I am ready.”
12
Antoinette felt better. Ever since Phaedra had arrived on Friday night, Fairfield had been infused with a buoyancy that hadn’t been there before. Since George’s death a murky miasma had lingered in all the rooms like fog, and Antoinette had constantly felt cold. But now she no longer felt the chill, and the dark mist had been relegated to the corners, banished by Phaedra’s optimistic and enthusiastic nature. She was like a beautiful angel, and Antoinette felt blessed that although George had been taken with one hand, Phaedra had been given with the other.
The girl was a miracle. She had won over Margaret. Joshua, Tom, and David were clearly bedazzled by her. She lifted the vibration whenever she entered the room and their three expectant faces turned towards her like sunflowers facing the sun. No one was immune to her charm, except Roberta, who was being unreasonable; Antoinette only wished George hadn’t kept Phaedra a secret all that time, because they could have enjoyed her together.
Even Dr. Heyworth had found her delightful. He had taken great trouble to make them tea. He had put biscuits and some fruitcake a grateful patient had given him on the table, along with napkins. He might not have been so amused to see Antoinette in his garden again had it not been for Phaedra. Antoinette didn’t imagine there was a man alive who wouldn’t leap for joy at the sight of her. They had remained chatting, and time had seemed unimportant. Dr. Heyworth was certainly in no hurry for them to be gone, persuading them to stay longer with fresh cups of tea and more slices of cake. It was a very good cake, and Antoinette had found it hard to resist. She had never been slim, but not for want of trying. Dr. Heyworth’s enthusiasm had been infectious, and she had foolishly allowed him to cut her a second slice. She’d regret it, even though she no longer had a man to slim down for.
George had always liked her the way she was. She had been “comely” when they met, and he had never asked her to change. That’s not to say he didn’t have an eye for the ladies. He loved beautiful women and flirted with all the attractive females he came into contact with. But Antoinette had been secure in the knowledge that he loved her the most. A little flirting gave him pleasure, and what pleased him pleased her. It pleased him that she gave him three sons, and it pleased him that she dedicated her time to their upbringing. When they grew into men and flew the nest, it pleased him that she dedicated her time to him and their home so that he always had a charming wife on his arm and a warm welcome to come back to.
Antoinette knew he wouldn’t have been happy sitting around at home, he was far too restless and eager for experience, and she had accepted that life without question. She was so used to it, she hadn’t been aware that there were questions to be raised until Phaedra had told her it was time to think of herself. She hadn’t considered herself in so long, she wasn’t sure what she really thought about anything. But the possibility of doing something entirely selfish gave her a little frisson of excitement. A sense of doing something very wicked, like skipping class at school, or stealing a packet of sweets in the sweet shop. Phaedra had inspired her to be positive about the future. More than anything, being positive gave her a welcome sense of control.
* * *
“Tom and I are going to Murenburg next week,” David announced to his family at Sunday lunch. “Just for a few days. I need to see where Dad died, you know, in order to move on.”