Lying in Wait(85)

‘Will you show me the garden?’ I asked, peering through a window, trying to see beyond my own reflection.

‘Another time, maybe. It’s too cold and dark now.’

Lydia called up to us from the hall to say that dinner was ready. Laurence grabbed me and kissed me on the lips before we ran downstairs.

The table layout in the dining room freaked me out. All the settings were at one end of a long table, so that Lydia would sit at the head of the table between Laurence and me. I had done etiquette lessons for Yvonne, but there were too many forks and knives and I couldn’t remember which side plate was mine. Laurence saw my confusion and mouthed, ‘Watch me.’

Lydia and I sat down as she asked Laurence to carve the shoulder of lamb.

‘It’s totally out of season of course, so it’s out of the supermarket freezer, I’m afraid. I hope you like lamb, Karen?’

‘Oh yes, I’m sure it will be delicious.’

As dinner progressed, I could see Laurence becoming more relaxed. I didn’t sense any snobbery from Lydia at all, and saw no sign of her infamous neurosis. She was sweet and charming and chatty throughout. Maybe I had got her on a good day, or maybe Laurence’s recent spat with her had made him more wary. Maybe he had totally exaggerated her condition and her attitudes, because she was very nice to me.

‘And I believe you met because your dad signed on in Laurence’s office? Well, at least that’s interesting. From what I can see on the television, everybody meets nowadays in tawdry nightclubs.’

‘Karen doesn’t like nightclubs very much,’ said Laurence.

‘Very sensible,’ she said, smiling.

‘My dad isn’t signing on any more. He got a job a few months ago.’

‘Isn’t that just wonderful? Where is the new job?’

‘He’s a hospital porter.’

I could see Laurence stiffen.

‘Is he? He must be a very kind, caring man to do that kind of work. I think it’s admirable, don’t you, Laurence?’

‘He’s a very nice man, Mum. You’ll meet him sometime.’ Laurence smiled at his mother and she put her hand on his, I think to reassure him.

While she filled our wine glasses and cleared the plates away into the kitchen, refusing any help, I said to Laurence, ‘I don’t know what you were worried about, she’s lovely.’

‘I know, I can’t believe it. She’s certainly on her best behaviour.’

Lydia re-entered the room. ‘I am so silly. I forgot to get another bottle of wine. It was on my shopping list and I’ve just realized that I never crossed it off. I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t worry, Mum. We’ve had enough.’

‘Oh, but I wanted us to relax in the drawing room and hear all about Karen’s travels. I wanted to buy Italian wine to remind you both of Rome.’

Laurence and I exchanged a quick glance.

‘I’m not stupid, darling. Anyway, Karen might just inspire me to jet off somewhere.’

I offered to pop out to the nearest off-licence, but Lydia wouldn’t hear of it. I suggested that Laurence should go, but he was reluctant. ‘Please, Laurence, I’d love to tell your mum about Paris and Milan. I think she’d love Paris in particular.’

He looked uncertain, but agreed. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’

His mum looked at him, smiling broadly. ‘Darling, you needn’t worry, I adore her! And try to get a Chianti?’

After Laurence had left, she allowed me to help her a little in the kitchen. We chatted as I dried some serving dishes.

‘Look out there, can you see? There used to be an ornamental pond there when I was a girl.’

I put my face up against the glass and could just see a raised stone platform on the grass with a small stone structure on top. ‘What’s that?’ I asked.

‘It’s the old bird bath that used to be in the pond. About five or six years ago, Laurence took a notion that he was going to build up a platform and cement over it. I don’t know what got into him. He never showed any interest in the garden before that, but nothing could stop him that time – and it was winter too, around this time of year, I think. Doesn’t it look odd?’

I laughed, agreeing it did look odd. ‘And do you know that from the day it was finished, he hardly ever set foot in the back garden?’

We went into the drawing room and sat in the glow of the fireplace in upholstered armchairs, slightly frayed at the corners, though you could tell the fabric had been expensive.

‘Would you like to see photos of Laurence as a child?’

I readily agreed, and she came and sat on the arm of my chair with leather-bound photo albums. She turned the pages and pointed out what an adorable baby he was, and indeed he was extremely cute, waving his spoon at the camera, crawling out from under a table. There was a photograph of him at about five years old, wearing a hat that was way too big for him.

‘That was his grandfather’s trilby. You know, Laurence wore it all the time, even when he grew up. He was very attached to it. I must ask him what happened to it. I haven’t seen it in about six years now. But I suppose it is very unfashionable these days.’

Lydia turned more pages and I gasped at a photo of Laurence, quite obese, standing with Lydia beside a navy vintage Jaguar. I knew every make and model of Jaguar from that era. I kept my voice steady. ‘Where was that taken? Who owns the car?’