Chapter 23
The table could have been a still life. Sunday Lunch at Foxwood.
Ox-blood walls adorned with botanical paintings, the table strewn with crumpled napkins, lipstick-stained glasses, plates with smears of blackberry-and-apple crumble and streaks of cream.
A bottle of port inched its way around, the perfect accompaniment to the eviscerated Stilton.
Daisy had been called in from the kitchen to brainstorm the menu for the Snow Ball. She came in with her folder of recipes and her battered green copy of The Complete Illustrated Cookery Book.
‘I could do Poulet Reine Elizabeth,’ she was saying. ‘It would be a good one for a crowd.’
‘That’s a lovely idea. A late celebration of the Queen’s Coronation.’ Elizabeth nodded her approval. ‘It’s a cold dish, though, isn’t it? Surely we need something hot, on the longest night of winter?’
Daisy frowned. ‘I could try out a hot version. It would be like a very creamy curry, I suppose. And I could do baked potatoes, instead of the rice salad. Fill everyone up.’
She knew this was going to be important. It was fatal, not feeding everyone properly at a big do.
‘In fact, why don’t we recreate the whole Coronation menu?’ suggested Elizabeth. ‘We went to Quaglino’s. Do you remember, Michael?’
‘Of course! It was wonderful.’
‘I’ve got the menu. I cut it out of the paper, with the recipes.’ Daisy had caught Coronation fever, poring over every scrap of detail.
‘What was the pudding?’
‘Strawberries.’ Daisy’s face clouded. ‘That’ll be impossible. They’ll be out of season. Even Joey can’t grow us strawberries in December.’
‘Could we use rhubarb? Though it’s not quite the same.’
‘What about Queen of Puddings? That’s got strawberry jam in it.’
‘You’re a genius.’ Elizabeth clapped her hands in delight.
‘Daisy, do you ever not rise to a challenge?’ Michael smiled benevolently. ‘What would we do without you?’
‘I dunno.’ Daisy grinned, well aware she was worth her weight in gold.
She was like part of the family, thought Clementine.
More than just a cook or a housekeeper. She knew them all, their likes and dislikes and little foibles, and she went the extra mile to keep them happy and comfortable.
And in return, Clementine knew, they paid her well.
They weren’t foolish enough to keep valued staff short.
It was a false economy, being tight with wages.
If you didn’t want to lose good people, you had to make staying worth their while.
Michael had the same philosophy at the factory, which was why there was never any shortage of staff on the shop floor.
A job with Arbutus Paints could be a job for life, if you played your cards right.
‘Obviously Freddie and I will be supplying the drink,’ offered Alfie. ‘Even though I’ll have nearly left Coupe by then. This will be our last hurrah.’
Clementine put her hand on his. She knew he was sad about leaving his old life, especially the thought of being without Freddie, his side kick. It was going to be very different, leaving London for the country, but as Alfie said, Foxwood had always been his destiny.
Clementine had to admit she already felt very at home here.
The house was large, and they were in the east wing, which was almost self-contained, with their big bedroom and a smaller one for a nursery for when (hopefully) another baby came along.
Until then, she was going to spend three days a week in London working with Ben.
And helping with the Snow Ball would keep her occupied until Christmas.
She had pored over the old photographs: decades of decadent, glamorous escapades, everyone dressed up in white fur and feathers and velvet and diamonds.
She pulled her attention back to the discussions.
‘I’m happy to put people up at Birch Farm,’ Diana was saying. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll muck all the bedrooms out.’
This was aimed at Elizabeth, who couldn’t help looking mildly alarmed at the offer. Clementine hadn’t been to Birch Farm yet but by all accounts, Diana kept her stables immaculate and her home a shambles.
‘There’s dog hair and half-chewed bones everywhere, and tack hanging off all the furniture and dirty plates in the sink and empty glasses on every surface. And shoes. Shoes in every corner for some reason,’ Elizabeth had confided in her with a wrinkled nose.
‘How many rooms?’ she asked Diana now, her pencil poised over the notebook she was using to make plans.
‘Two at least.’
Clementine quailed inwardly. Would it be up to her to decide who drew the short straw?
She felt overwhelmed for a moment. Running the gallery was much less complicated than life at Foxwood.
She looked around the table. They had all become so dear to her in such a short space of time, even with their shortcomings.
Michael at the head of the table, following proceedings with an amused detachment.
Elizabeth, subtly trying to arrange everything to her liking but making it seem as if other people were making the decisions.
Darling Alfie, eternally good-natured. Even Diana seemed relaxed today, and when she was happy, Rory was happy.
If it wasn’t for the secrets she was hiding, she would be perfectly content. She couldn’t ignore them, though.
First of all, she had to confront the issue with Elizabeth.
She couldn’t carry on living here, pretending she didn’t know the truth, for it was compromising her relationship with her mother-in-law.
And the presence of Stella and Ted nearby was an unexploded bomb.
If she was going to defuse that bomb – or detonate it, by mistake – she needed to know the Arbutus family were watertight.
It would be a delicate operation. She had to act with precision timing and extreme care.
There was a lot at stake, and everything had to be untangled in the right order.
Later, the men all decided to go for a walk down to the Trout for an early evening pint. Diana went back to Birch Farm to feed the horses and Elizabeth announced she was going to sit by the fire.
‘Ostensibly to read, but I’m sure I’ll fall asleep. I always do.’
This, thought Clementine, was her opportunity.
Her stomach flittered with nerves. There’d be no going back, once she’d opened Pandora’s box.
Was she doing the right thing? The alternative was to mind her own business and turn a blind eye to it all – Elizabeth and Jasper, and Stella and Ted – but that seemed cowardly.
She didn’t want to live a lie – or be party to anyone else’s.
‘Would you mind if I joined you?’ she asked.
‘Of course not, darling. That would be lovely.’
Elizabeth smiled at her daughter-in-law. She wasn’t going to be so enamoured of her in a few minutes’ time, thought Clementine.
Elizabeth was flipping through House and Garden in the small sitting room when Clementine came to join her.
The curtains had been drawn against the gloom of the late afternoon, and the fire was leaping about in the grate with the enthusiasm of the newly lit.
She settled herself on the sofa opposite, kicking off her shoes and drawing her feet underneath to mirror her mother-in-law.
Elizabeth looked up, regarding her with an air of concern.
‘I’m so glad it’s just us,’ she said, putting down her magazine. ‘I wanted to ask how you are. Alfie told me Dr Shaw has given you the thumbs-up, but how are you, really?’
‘Oh, I’m feeling a little more like myself. Relieved, of course. I didn’t realise how much it was hanging over me.’
‘Of course it was. It’s a rotten thing to happen, but I’m sure all will be well. You just need to give yourselves time.’
She was being so kind and understanding. Clementine felt her nerve wavering. ‘We’re taking it slowly.’
‘Good. Funnily enough, I remember Michael was more worried than I was. About trying again.’
Clementine laughed. ‘Alfie too.’
‘I suppose that’s a good thing. One wouldn’t want to be married to a brute.’
‘No …’
That was the last thing Alfie was. She felt so safe, lying in his arms at the end of the day, wallowing in that gorgeous feeling that no matter what happened, life would be all right, the two of them together. Was she about to jeopardise that? She couldn’t help sighing, and Elizabeth frowned.
‘Is something the matter?’
‘There is one thing. It’s rather difficult …’
‘You can talk to me about anything, I hope.’
Clementine looked her straight in the eye. ‘I know about you and Jasper.’
Elizabeth held Clementine’s gaze. She was expressionless. No panic, no hardness, no fear. ‘I see.’
‘I heard you talking, in the hallway. The first day I came here. I’m so sorry. I had to say something.’
Elizabeth looked away for a moment while she gathered her thoughts. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the crackling of logs in the grate. Eventually she spoke.
‘You must think very little of me.’
‘It’s not my place to judge. But I couldn’t carry on without telling you. I didn’t want to compromise our relationship. I know how much you’re going to be needed, if and when another baby comes along.’
The mask slipped, and a mixture of emotions danced over Elizabeth’s face.
‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you know.
Funnily enough, it makes it so much easier.
’ She gathered herself up, squaring her shoulders.
‘I’m not going to go into the whys. Even if I could pretend it was defensible, it’s not, not really.
And anyway, it’s over. It’s been over for some time, actually.
’ Her voice wavered. ‘But now that you know, I can stand firm. Not be at the mercy of my own weak will.’ She grimaced at the thought.
‘I don’t like myself very much. You should know that. ’
‘Life’s been cruel to you. And I’m not sure we should always punish ourselves for mistakes we make.’
‘Oh, we have to. Otherwise we’d become monsters.’ Elizabeth gave a shaky laugh. ‘Anyway, I’m answerable to you now.’
‘I don’t know that you are. I’m never going to hold it over you. But I needed it out in the open. I couldn’t live under this roof with a secret like that between us.’
Clementine felt as if a huge burden had been lifted. One at least. For a moment she was tempted to share the other secret, but stopped herself. That revelation was Stella’s prerogative. If her suspicions were true.
‘I appreciate your candour. And your generosity.’ Elizabeth’s eyes glittered in the firelight, and she had a little more colour in her cheeks. ‘Now. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. I’m very worried about Diana. I thought you might be able to help.’
The subject was closed. When the men came back some time later, they found Clementine and Elizabeth curled up on the sofa, deep in conversation, the very picture of afternoon bliss.