Chapter 17
‘Smarter, funnier and far better-looking,’ Tristan announced, having overheard him. Gesturing at his own lean greyhound body in a pinstriped grey and black shirt and tailored black trousers, he added, ‘Also, unlike some people I could mention, I have impeccable dress sense and style. Hello there.’ He zoned in on Lizzie with a wolfish smile. ‘Look at you, bringing some glamour to our humble village. Good to meet you. Tristan Peverell. Room for one more?’ Pulling up another chair next to Lizzie, he clicked his fingers at Jerry, who’d come outside to clear the tables. ‘Yes, please. A bottle of the usual, thanks. Actually, make that two bottles. And some clean glasses.’
The usual, predictably, turned out to be Bollinger; Nella might not have seen him for over a decade, but she could have guessed. The glasses were filled and Tristan, having taken centre stage, raised his.
‘Here’s to meeting new people. God, you’re even more beautiful in real life. I was meant to be in Cannes this weekend but I’m glad I came home now. Has my big brother been trying to chat you up? Did he mention you used to be his celebrity crush?’ Tristan grinned, revealing white teeth and prominent incisors. ‘Take a look at his phone, you might still be his screen saver.’
‘Not true.’ Hugo shook his head.
‘So I used to be your crush?’ Lizzie gave him a playful nudge. ‘But not any more? I’m devastated.’
Nella, the only one not drinking because she was still officially on duty until midnight, sat back and observed the various interactions around the table. No two brothers could be more unalike than Tristan and Hugo, and there had never been much love lost between the pair of them, chiefly because Tristan’s favourite hobby was teasing and belittling his brother. If he resembled a sleek greyhound, Hugo was the eager, clumsy sheepdog of the family. When she’d come to live here as a fourteen-year-old, Tristan might only have been eleven, but he’d been every bit as superior and snide as he was now at twenty-eight. She’d only encountered him occasionally, simply because she was far too many rungs below him on the social ladder to be remotely interesting or worth getting to know.
Luckily this hadn’t mattered a jot to her back then, just as it continued not to bother her now. Hugo was the one who’d befriended and been kind to her, and he was still far nicer and more genuine than his slick, self-centred, sharp-tongued little brother.
Apart from anything else, you could never go wrong by taking against anyone who clicked their fingers at bar staff. It wouldn’t surprise her if Tristan did it to women who were a few seconds too slow to jump into his bed.
The good news was, Lizzie didn’t appear to be falling for his supposed charms. She’d accepted the glass of Bollinger he’d pressed upon her and was listening to him now as he told her about his recent trip to S?o Paolo, but her smile was nothing more than polite. By contrast, when she looked across the table at Nick, her face lit up and he clearly had all her attention.
And here was life in a nutshell; never simple. Glancing at each of them in turn, paying attention to body language as well as facial expressions, Nella could clearly see that Hugo was desperate for Lizzie’s approval, whilst Lizzie was more interested in Nick, and Tristan was keen to impress their celebrity visitor but mainly interested in himself.
And Nick? At that moment he looked up and caught her eye, then half smiled and raised an eyebrow whilst briefly inclining his head in Tristan’s direction. She sensed he was thinking the same as she was, acknowledging the mismatched tangle of connections.
At least Lizzie seemed to be enjoying herself. At that moment Tristan said something genuinely funny and Nella saw her rock back in her chair with laughter, lightly touching Nick’s wrist as she did so.
Always a giveaway.
‘So, Antonella. How are you enjoying being back here?’ It was her turn to be on the receiving end of Tristan’s attention. Pointing a thin index finger at her, he said, ‘Ma told me you were the replacement for the frumpy woman who shagged one of the guests. I couldn’t picture you at first, but then she reminded me.’
Here we go . . .
‘You must remember,’ he said with barely concealed glee. ‘Our housekeeper had been having a clear-out of our wardrobes and she took a whole load of clothes to the charity shop in the next village. Three days later we saw you at the bus stop wearing one of my sweaters and a pair of my old camouflage shorts.’ He slapped the table with his hand. ‘Classic!’
Oh, the ripostes, the retorts, the insulting comments flying around inside her brain . . . Really, she was spoiled for choice. But she was also here in a professional capacity, and it wouldn’t do to sink to his level, not with Lizzie Rafferty next to her and plenty of other people seated at tables all around them.
But back then, how she had burned with humiliation, because of course Tristan had made sure everyone knew whose cast-offs she was wearing. Shaming her publicly had caused him no end of delight.
Anyway. What was it Michelle Obama had once remarked about her detractors? When they go low, we go high .
She smiled pleasantly across the table at Tristan. ‘I loved that sweater.’
‘Wow.’ Lizzie, with her glass halfway to her mouth, shook her head at him. ‘What’s it like to be such a dick?’
When Nella walked her back to Pine Lodge later, Lizzie said, ‘Did I make things awkward for you when I called that guy a dick? Sorry if I did. But not sorry for saying it to him.’
‘You were great. If anyone else had done that, it wouldn’t have meant anything to him. But it was you, so it did. I just wish someone could have filmed it.’ Hastily Nella added, ‘Not to put it online, I don’t mean that. Just, you know, for private consumption. His face was a picture.’
‘He won’t be mentioning it to his fancy-pants friends, that’s for sure. And he’s definitely a dick.’ Lizzie paused to admire the wisteria just coming into bloom on the front of one of the cottages, the lilac flowers overhanging the windows like a teenager’s uncut fringe. ‘What does he do, anyway?’
‘Spends more money than he earns, from what I hear. He’s the spoilt younger brother who asks his mum for handouts and usually gets them.’ He’d been like it as a teenager and, according to Esme, who’d brought her up to speed on the goings-on in Starbourne, hadn’t changed a bit. ‘Apparently works in advertising, up in London. No idea what he actually does, though. Apart from boasting about going on endless holidays.’
‘But his brother seems sweet. Bless him,’ Lizzie added fondly.
Sweet. Bless him. Oh dear. There it was, the kiss of death for anyone fantasising about a possible future romance. No one had ever lusted after a person they’d described as sweet.
‘Hugo’s lovely.’
‘He’s a cutie. Well, you know what I mean. Now Nick, he’s something else.’ Lizzie’s eyes grew bright at the mere thought of him. ‘Do you think he’s interested in me? I was trying to figure it out but couldn’t tell.’
‘I don’t know.’ Diplomatically, Nella added, ‘Maybe he makes it a personal rule not to get involved with clients. It would make sense, especially after what happened to the last concierge.’
‘Oh, right, fair point. Except we could be discreet. I mean, he’s single and I’m single. And God knows, I could do with a bit of fun. He is gorgeous, though, isn’t he? And so laid-back about it, not going around like the big I-am, showing off about how irresistible he is, like some people I could mention.’
‘Here we are,’ Nella announced cheerfully as they reached the entrance to Pine Lodge and the outside security lights came on. ‘Back home, safe and sound!’
Lizzie gave her a hug. ‘Thanks for everything. I’m so glad I plucked up the courage to ask you if we could go out tonight. And it was great, getting to chat to everyone in the pub.’
‘My pleasure. I’m glad you asked. It was fun.’ Nella meant it.
‘You didn’t need to walk me home either. It’s not exactly the Bronx.’
‘What can I say? I like looking after people,’ Nella reminded her. ‘It’s my job.’
‘You’ve cheered me up. And made me realise something.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘This evening I forced myself to do a brave thing, and it couldn’t have worked out better.’ Taking out her key and unlocking the main door, Lizzie said happily, ‘It’s just a question of having the guts to go for it. So I’m going to find out when Nick is free and invite him to have dinner with me at that fancy restaurant you told me about. The Pigeon?’
Oh . ‘The Dove,’ Nella supplied.
‘And I’m not going to fanny around waiting for him to make the first move either.’ Lizzie spoke with pride. ‘Hey, why should I? This is the twenty-first century, after all. Once dinner’s over, if I want to, maybe I’ll seduce him!’
Nella blinked. ‘Wow.’
‘Do you think I should? I think I should!’ Evidently delighted with her decision to be proactive, Lizzie did a little shimmy then adopted a warrior pose. ‘Sounds like a plan to me!’