A Bitter Feast(9)

Smiling, Addie said, “The last flush. It’s a bit of a hobby.”

Melody rolled her eyes. “A bit, yeah. You wouldn’t think Mum is happiest with a trowel in her hand, would you? Come on, I’ll show you round.”

The house was smaller than Gemma had expected, and much more homey. From the deep Mediterranean blue of the sitting room that overlooked the gardens, to the pale blush pink of the kitchen/dining area that opened out from the kitchen side of the central fireplace, the place looked well lived in. Sir Ivan’s deep red study faced the drive, as did a formal dining room. There were just enough touches of chintz to add country charm, enough leather to add masculinity, and the oil paintings of Cotswold landscapes glowed like jewels on the walls. The reds, pinks, and blues flowed from room to room in harmony, and Gemma couldn’t help but notice that all the colors set off Addie Talbot’s flawlessly pale complexion. She also realized that the casualness of the house was quite deliberately—and very expensively—achieved, with the sort of expertise that came only with generations of money and taste.

She felt suddenly much less at ease.

There were four bedrooms on the first floor, and four smaller bedrooms in what had once been the nursery and servants’ quarters on the second floor. She and Duncan had been given a room on the first floor, adjoining a dressing room fitted with a small bed for Charlotte. The windows overlooked the gardens and the hills that were now only deep shadows in the dusk.

“This is perfect,” she said to Melody. A shelf of worn books ran the length of the wall above the bed. The wallpaper was rose-sprigged, the bed linens white and puffy, but one corner of the room held a small desk and a slightly tattered slipper chair with an ottoman and reading lamp. “Was this room yours?” she asked, as it struck her.

Melody nodded. “And it usually still is, when I come to stay, but it’s the only room other than Mum and Dad’s with an en suite bath and a bed for Charlotte. I’m happy to take one of the guest rooms,” she added before Gemma could protest. “And I certainly wasn’t giving this one to Doug.”

From the dressing room, Charlotte said, “Mummy, is this for me?”

Turning, Gemma saw that she meant not the little bed, but a picture book that had been placed on the pillow. When Gemma joined her, she saw that a note had been clipped to the front. “Charlotte, welcome to Beck House,” she read. The heavy paper was signed with a large stylized A. “Yes, darling, it is,” Gemma told her. “A present from Lady Addie. You’ll have to thank her.”

“It’s an Alfie! A new one!” Charlotte clutched the book to her chest. The books by Shirley Hughes about a little boy named Alfie were Charlotte’s favorites, as they had been Toby’s.

“How thoughtful of your mother,” Gemma told Melody.

“One of her many talents. She wanted everyone to feel welcome.”

But Addie wouldn’t have known that the books were Charlotte’s favorites unless Melody had told her. Like mother, like daughter, Gemma thought, remembering all the seemingly casual little things that Melody did for her and for others on the team, things that meant she’d been paying attention to what pleased them.

“Your mum seems awfully calm for having such a big event tomorrow.”

Melody laughed. “I wouldn’t count on that. I would guarantee you that she’s making last-minute calls right now, just making sure she has all her ducks in a row.”

“What’s the luncheon in aid of, exactly? You never said.” Gemma had been in court that week, so she and Melody had spent most of the drive catching up on work news.

“The two local churches. Upper and Lower Slaughter are in different parishes, so supporting one without the other would be a political minefield.” Melody frowned. “But I think the real reason is that Mum wants our local chef—remember the pub I pointed out?—to up her game. She’s invited food critics and bloggers and the event will get lots of media attention. I hope Viv is up for it.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Rumor is that Viv was a rising star on the London food scene ten or twelve years ago. Then she just disappeared. Turned up here a couple of years ago and bought into the Lamb. Wanted a quiet life, apparently. I’d say she got that.”

“Mummy.” Book in one hand, Charlotte tugged at Gemma’s jumper with the other. “Read it to me.”

“Let’s take it downstairs, shall we?” Melody told her. “Dad will have poured drinks and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”



“I can’t think what’s keeping him,” said Gemma a few hours later. She felt it was rude to sit clutching her mobile in the Talbots’ sitting room, but she’d tried Kincaid half a dozen times without a response. It was nearing nine o’clock and he should have arrived shortly after them. She’d even contemplated ringing Kit or Doug, to see if they’d heard from him, but didn’t want to worry them unnecessarily.

“Do you want us to mount a search party?” asked Addie. Gemma thought she was joking until Addie continued, “Ivan can take the Land Rover while Melody and I take our cars. You need to stay with your daughter, of course.”

“Oh, no, I’m sure he’ll turn up,” protested Gemma, shaking her head. Kincaid would be mortified if she called out the cavalry.