The Party Crasher(58)

  “It does make you look at marriage differently,” says Bean after a pause. “And relationships. And all of it.” It’s so rare for her to be anything but relentlessly positive that I glance at her, almost with a new respect.

      “Agreed.” Gus nods. “I sometimes think, jeez, if Dad and Mimi can’t make it work, what hope do I ever have of making it work?”

  “Exactly!” I say, seizing on the fact that finally my siblings are agreeing with me. “They were the perfect happy couple and then, boom, out of the blue, they split up.”

  “They weren’t the perfect happy couple,” retorts Bean, almost sharply. “And it wasn’t out of the blue. Ephelant, you have to stop seeing everything in such a rose-tinted way. Dad and Mimi were a complicated, mixed-up couple, like any other. They just didn’t show it much. But I saw the reality when I was living here. Remember a few years ago, while my house was being done? I was here for six months, alone with them, and it wasn’t all sunshine. It was difficult.”

  “What was difficult?” I stare at Bean, because she’s never said this before.

  “It was just…” She looks uncomfortable. “The atmosphere.”

  “Bean…” I swallow hard, because I’m venturing onto new, toxic ground here. “D’you think Dad was having an affair? Is that why they broke up?”

  The official timeline of the split is that first of all, Dad and Mimi agreed to separate. And then after that—very much after that—Dad met Krista in a bar. But I’ve always suspected that this timeline may not be quite accurate. And in my darkest moments, I sometimes wonder: Was Dad two-timing Mimi all along? Not just with Krista, but with others?

      “No,” says Bean after a pause. “At least, not that I was aware of. But I think they put on a show whenever we came home, and the problems were there for longer than we realized.”

  “I’ll tell you something,” says Gus, looking up. “And I only heard this tonight: Krista targeted Dad.”

  “What?” I stare at him. “What do you mean, ‘targeted’?”

  “That sounds sinister!” says Bean, with a nervous laugh.

  “I mean, she asked questions about him,” says Gus. “And she lied about how they met. The story is that they caught eyes across the bar in the Holyhead Arms and Dad bought her a drink and she had no idea who he was, right? Well, bollocks. He’d been drinking in there a couple of times, and she’d spotted him, but she laid low. She asked the landlord all about him. Then she made her move.”

  “Who told you that?” demands Bean.

  “Mike Woodson.”

  “He would know,” I say. Mike Woodson lives in Nutworth, next to the church. He’s been “early retired” for as long as I can remember, and his main hobby is patronizing all the pubs and hotel bars in the neighborhood.

  “He collared me at the cocktail reception and warned me about her. He reckons Dad’s made a killing this year and he thinks Krista’s got her eye on it. To quote Mike exactly: ‘Make sure the new girlfriend doesn’t nab all the cash and do a runner.’?”

  “Really?” Bean stares at Gus.

  “I knew it.” I look around, suddenly alert, feeling like a detective. “I knew it. And did you know Krista wants to open a restaurant in Portugal? What if she’s planning to fleece him? She’s already got a socking great diamond out of him. What’s that worth? Has anyone even checked if she’s got a criminal record?”

      “Effie!” exclaims Bean, half-laughing. “A criminal record?”

  “Think about it! No wonder she’s been trying to stop us from talking to him! It’s all part of the plan! I think one of us needs to speak to Dad about it. Obviously not me,” I add.

  “And say what?” Bean looks appalled. “We’ll cause huge damage if we start hurling unfounded accusations around. This family is in enough trouble already. We need to be healing, not finding new wounds!”

  I roll my eyes, because I might have known Bean would react like that.

  “Gus?” I turn to him.

  “I’m not saying anything,” Gus says firmly. “Bean’s right, this is all hearsay. Opening a restaurant in Portugal isn’t actually against the law, you know.”

  “Also, Krista wants a commitment ceremony,” points out Bean. “So why would she do a runner?”

  Yet again I feel a surge of frustration at my siblings, who may be older but are not necessarily wiser.

  “What if Krista spends all Dad’s money and makes him wear a poncho and be a waiter in her restaurant?” I throw at them.

  “A poncho?” Gus stares at me.

  “And then she dumps him and he ends up destitute and miserable in Portugal? What will you say then?”

  “I’ll say, Effie, you were right,” says Bean patiently.

  “I’ll say, Did not see that poncho coming,” chimes in Gus.

      “Ha ha,” I say. “Hilarious.”