A Bitter Feast(105)

He and Gemma walked back up Becky Hill Road together. “All right?” she’d asked when they’d met again at the little roundabout across the river from the mill, and he’d nodded.

“Yes. I’m only sorry we can’t stay for Nell’s service.”

“We can send flowers,” Gemma suggested, and with that he had to be content.

As they climbed, he thought that even with yesterday’s exertions, his ribs were finally improving. When they reached the last tunnel of overarching green before Beck House, he stopped Gemma, turned her towards him, and kissed her very gently.

“What was that for?” she asked, when he’d reluctantly pulled away.

“For the weekend that might have been.” Then, as he put his good arm round her and they walked on, he added, “And to remind me not to take anything for granted.”

When they reached the house, there was an unfamiliar car in the drive. “Guests?” Kincaid wondered aloud.

But Ivan and Kit came bursting out the front door as if they’d been lying in wait.

“What do you think, Dad?” asked Kit, nearly hopping with excitement. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

“She?”

“The car, Dad. It’s a Land Rover. A Discovery.”

“I can see that.” Indeed, he was nearly blinded by the sun winking from gleaming paint the color of a new penny—and of Gemma’s hair. “But—”

“It takes seven people. That’s five of us and the dogs and luggage—and even the cats in their carriers. Or camping gear.”

“Camping gear?” said Gemma with a horrified squeak.

“Kit, it’s very nice, but I don’t see—” Kincaid had begun, when Ivan, who had been standing aside with a Father Christmas smirk, broke in.

“This is the car I wanted you to see. It belongs to friends who are moving to France and don’t want to take a right-hand-drive car. It’s a year old but the mileage is low, as they’ve been in France a good bit of the time. I thought it would be just the thing for you and the family.”

“Ivan, you’re too kind, but you know there won’t be much insurance settlement on the Astra and I’m not sure we could—”

“They’re asking a very reasonable price, as they’ve left selling the car to the last minute.” Ivan quoted him a number that made Kincaid gulp. But he’d been doing some research, and he knew that it was indeed a fair price for the sort of car they needed as a family. When he didn’t immediately object, Ivan moved in for the kill. “Go home, talk to your insurance people and to your bank. You can do the paperwork long distance. Then I’ll drive the car up to town for you.”

Kincaid looked at Gemma, who had edged closer to the car and was peering in the windows. “I admit it sounds a good deal, but any decision on a family car would have to rest with Gemma.”

Gemma, who had been begging him to get rid of the Astra for ages. Gemma, who’d been putting money aside every month for a sizable deposit on a new car.

Running a hand over the shiny copper bonnet, Gemma shot him a grin. “How could I not like it? Can we take it for a test drive?”

Kit’s whoop of delight split the air.



Melody woke late—again—and unaccountably exhausted. As she lay there, watching the sunlight play on the guest room ceiling, she thought how little she was looking forward to driving back to London on her own. Gemma and Charlotte would be going on the train with the rest of the family—as would Doug.

She was not, in fact, looking forward to going back to London at all. It felt as if all the progress she’d made the past few months had been for nothing, and she didn’t know how to start again. A tear leaked and ran down her cheekbone to dampen the pillow.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she said in disgust, sniffing and pushing herself out of bed with a groan.

Once downstairs, she found the house again felt strangely deserted. She made a coffee and then wandered through the rooms, looking for signs of human habitation. Doug’s laptop lay closed on the coffee table in the sitting room, beside a pile of newspapers, and the children had left an unfinished puzzle on the window table. She had an odd sense of life suspended.

At last, she found her mother, sitting at the desk in her study.

“Where is everyone?” Melody asked, hating the little prickle of anxiety she felt at being left behind.

“Let’s see.” Addie pushed back her chair and stretched. “Gemma and Duncan have walked down to the village. Your father and Kit are off on some car scheme. And Doug and the children are playing a last game of croquet.” Her expression softening, she added, “I’m going to miss the children, you know. Although I will admit that Toby can be a bit challenging. And that I am looking forward to getting in an hour or two in the garden on my own this afternoon, before we go back to town on Wednesday.”

Melody almost hated to ask. “Mum, what about Joe?” She’d thought about confronting Joe over the things he hadn’t mentioned about Roz, but decided it would only make things more awkward between them.

“Ah.” Addie looked out at the garden. “He’s been a bit of an idiot, but I think we’ll manage to get through it. His intentions were in the right place, after all—although I don’t understand why he just didn’t tell us he needed help.”