Chapter 29
Beryl unpacked her belongings and had a quick shower before sitting down for a moment to get her breath back.
A fleeting worry crossed her mind about how the news of the engagement would be received when she and Frank arrived back in Willowbrook.
What would Nell and Barney think? Would the other villagers say she was too old to find love again?
Beryl gave herself a shake. She’d never bothered much about other people’s opinions, and she wasn’t going to start now.
Changing into one of her less crumpled summer dresses, Beryl lay down on the bed for what her mother used to call a little toes-up.
Then, completely refreshed and starting to notice pangs of hunger, she brushed her hair, added copious amounts of hairspray, put on a layer of her brightest lipstick and hunted around for her sandals.
Even after her more casual holidays with Anthea and Winnie, it still seemed wonderfully decadent to be going to dinner without any tights on.
This was the life. Mother wouldn’t have approved at all, which made the idea even more appealing.
Downstairs, most of the others were already assembled around the pool, sipping long, cool glasses of some sort of delicately pink drink, each with a strawberry floating in it.
‘Champagne cocktails for your first night here,’ called Simone, holding out a brimming glass to Beryl. ‘I always add a tot of cognac to liven them up.’
‘Liven us up, more like. You’ll have us squiffy, drinking on an empty stomach,’ said Sid, winking at Winnie, who smiled back, raising her glass to Beryl.
‘Where are Anthea and Venetia?’ asked Beryl, doing a quick head count as she sipped her cocktail. It was delicious, and she had to restrain herself from downing it in two gulps.
‘Anthea’s still beautifying,’ said Maurice. ‘I told her it was merely gilding the lily in my opinion, but she just rolled her eyes and called me a flatterer. I meant it though. She’s a lovely woman. I’m a very lucky man.’
Beryl didn’t think this gushing comment worth responding to. She was very fond of Anthea but to be husband number five and stick at it would take more than a bit of luck. ‘And Vee?’ she said. ‘She should be having a drink with us. Has she fallen asleep?’
‘I’m here,’ said a voice behind Beryl, and Vee appeared from round the back of the property. Beryl noticed immediately that Vee was wearing shorts. The very idea! She sniffed.
‘Aren’t you dressing for dinner?’ Beryl asked, pursing her lips. ‘We’ve all made the effort.’
They both looked around at the rest of the party.
Winnie had on one of her trademark long robes in purple and fuchsia with a matching head wrap.
Maurice, Sid and Frank were in their smartest trousers teamed with short-sleeved shirts and Rick was resplendent in black chinos and a striped linen shirt with a black waistcoat over it.
‘Oh, I didn’t realise we were pulling out all the stops tonight, with just having dinner here,’ said Vee, clearly not hearing Simone approaching from the kitchen.
‘So, you do not consider my cooking worthy of dressing up for?’ their hostess asked, her French accent more marked as her eyes flashed fire.
‘I… I… yes, of course,’ stammered Vee. ‘I went out in a hurry to see my aunt and didn’t think I’d be this long. I’ll pop up and change.’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Simone. ‘The paella is almost ready to serve, and I hate keeping my guests waiting for food. Ah, here’s the other lady and doesn’t she look magnifique.’
Anthea had certainly got the memo that Vee had missed, thought Beryl, gazing at her friend admiringly.
The usual artfully draped linen layers had been eschewed tonight in favour of a simple black dress accessorised with an assortment of silver and amber chunky jewellery.
Around Anthea’s shoulders was draped a flimsy chiffon wrap that sparkled with gold lights as she walked.
She was wearing peep-toed kitten heels and, like Beryl, had gone for the bare-legged look, but unlike Beryl, had taken the trouble to used tinted make-up to give the effect of a gentle tan.
She’d also painted her toenails in pearly pink.
‘You look splendid, my darling,’ said Maurice, jumping to his feet.
‘A credit to my little residence,’ agreed Simone, handing a glass to Anthea and then another to Vee, with a less favourable glance.
‘A toast to travelling,’ said Sid, now also standing and raising his glass. ‘A big thank you to Vee and Rick for getting us here, and to our beautiful hostess, Simone. I’m so glad we decided to have an extra couple of days in this lovely place.’
There was a chorus of agreement as they all raised their own glasses.
Beryl could see that Vee was uncomfortable.
She kept smoothing down her shorts and tugging her top straight, like a little girl getting ready for a telling off from her teacher.
Beryl’s heart went out to her. It was an easy mistake to make, after all. She went over to stand beside Vee.
‘You look perfectly lovely, dear,’ she whispered. ‘Very summery.’
Vee shot her a surprised look and Beryl realised that she hadn’t shown her much spontaneous kindness so far, apart from providing the odd tray of food or cup of tea.
Perhaps it was time to start appreciating her neighbour.
They were going to have to rub along together in Fiddler’s Row, no matter what history there was between them.
‘Take no notice of that one,’ Beryl murmured. ‘All tits and no taste, if you ask me.’
Vee had been swallowing a mouthful of her cocktail when Beryl spoke and now began to choke, coughing and spluttering until tears ran down her face.
Rick handed her a bottle of water and started to pat her on the back and Winnie passed over a small packet of tissues, while Simone gave Vee a withering look and set off back to the kitchen.
‘You’d better all get yourselves seated at the table,’ she said. ‘I’m ready to serve and I don’t like my food to go cold.’
They did as they were told, shuffling around until everyone had a chair under the big umbrellas at the long poolside table. Vee had recovered now but seemed very glad to hide her shorts-clad legs under the table. Beryl sat down next to her, and they exchanged a grin.
‘I went to see Yolanda and I didn’t realise…’ Vee began.
‘I know, it’s fine. Take no notice of that one,’ Beryl said quietly, patting Vee’s arm. ‘Let’s concentrate on eating her fishy stuff. Personally, I’d rather have a nice piece of cod, but when in Rome, as they say.’
Simone served up her paella with panache, and Beryl had to admit to herself that it did look very impressive.
There were prawns, large and luscious, mussels peeping out of their shells, chunks of something that might be squid, she guessed, and all manner of other kinds of seafood, plus chicken and what looked like slivers of chorizo all nestling on a bed of perfectly cooked yellowy-orange rice. Give the woman her due, she could cook.
Their hostess was generous with the wine too, and carafe after carafe appeared before the last was even empty.
Beryl could see that Winnie’s eyes were beginning to glaze over and she was leaning towards Sid as if she might fall asleep on his shoulder, whereas Sid and Maurice were getting more verbose by the minute.
Vee had hardly touched her wine. She hadn’t eaten much either and although Rick had seemed to thoroughly enjoy his paella, he hadn’t refilled his glass as often as the others.
As for Anthea, she looked as cool and elegant as ever, sipping slowly and eating daintily.
Beryl herself had stopped drinking after three glasses, changing over to water.
She had no desire to make a fool of herself.
They were just stacking their paella plates tidily, ready to ferry the crockery indoors when Simone emerged from the kitchen bearing two more carafes of wine. Seeing her, Sid leapt to his feet so suddenly that his chair toppled over.
‘A toast to our wonderful hostess,’ he cried. ‘Simone, come over here and let us raise our glasses to you. That was a splendid meal!’
Clearly overwhelmed with gratitude, Sid raised his glass so high that he overbalanced and staggered backwards, falling over his chair which still lay on the ground.
For a couple of seconds, he teetered on the edge of the pool and then before anyone could cry out a warning, let alone reach him, he plunged straight into the deep end, hurling his wine glass into the air.
It landed in the pool with a splash, just after Sid hit the water.
‘Oh, dear Lord!’ shouted Winnie, as they all stood up and moved together, a wave of anxious bodies hurrying across the short distance to the water. ‘He can’t swim, the daft bugger.’
By now Sid had come up for air and was opening his mouth to yell. His eyes were panic-stricken. Rick fell to his knees, reaching out to Sid, and their hands were almost touching. ‘Nearly got him,’ said Rick, leaning further. ‘He’s okay. If someone will just hang on to my belt, I can…’
‘I never allow real glass at the poolside,’ said Simone, glaring at Sid. ‘My guests should have the common sense to use plastic tumblers if they’re going to fall in. Can somebody please fish the man out? And his glass,’ she added.
Beryl was about to remonstrate that she didn’t suppose Sid had meant to keel over into the pool when the ample figure of Winnie hurtled past them all.
She kicked off her gold sandals and flung herself into the water.
‘I’ve got you, Sid, you silly sod. You’re safe,’ she spluttered, treading water and grabbing him by the collar of his now sodden shirt.
Sid gasped and coughed as Winnie towed him to the side, and Rick and Frank hauled him out, taking an armpit each and very nearly joining him in the water in the process.
Soon Sid was lying on the tiles looking extremely sheepish, with water flowing from his clothes.
His hair was plastered to his head, revealing a large bald patch, and his trousers had ridden up at the ankles, showing a pair of very flashy red socks.
‘I’m so sorry, Simone,’ he managed to wheeze. ‘I got a bit…’
‘Drunk?’ suggested Beryl under her breath but Vee nudged her, and she closed her mouth with a snap. What a start to their visit here. She was just glad Yolanda hadn’t witnessed the embarrassing spectacle.
By now, Rick had found a large net that Simone kept by the pool, possibly for such disasters, and was fishing out Sid’s floating wine glass.
‘No harm done, fortunately,’ said Simone, graciously.
‘I must admit to always getting a little overexcited when I visit a new place, myself. Take yourself into the poolside changing room over there for a shower.’ She gestured expansively.
‘And perhaps one of your kind friends will fetch a towel and some spare clothes.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Rick, setting off at a trot into the house. ‘Beryl, could you find something for Winnie to change into?’
‘You should both go and get in that hot shower, before you catch your death,’ said Beryl, doing as Rick suggested and heading for Winnie’s room.
‘They’re hardly likely to do that on a warm night like this,’ said Frank. ‘But the ladies are right. Off you go, chaps. No harm done.’
Sid and Winnie sloshed their way around the pool and disappeared into a room under the eaves on the far side. The remaining members of the party looked at each other, at a loss for what to do next. There was a long pause as they waited for Rick and Beryl to return.
‘Dessert,’ called Simone, now back in the kitchen. ‘Who’s for a slice of my pudding?’
‘Now that’s a leading question,’ Beryl said to Rick as they emerged from the house.
Rick shushed her with a finger to his lips. ‘Behave, Beryl,’ he said quietly. He raised his voice. ‘What’s your pudding, Simone?’ he called.
‘Paris Brest,’ she replied.
That did it. Beryl started to chuckle, and seeing her becoming almost helpless with mirth, the others joined in, one by one.
‘Why are you all laughing?’ Simone said, coming outside with a magnificent choux pastry dessert on a plate.
‘This is my signature dish. It’s famous throughout France.
Delicious rings of light pastry filled with cream and praline.
Oh, I see.’ Light dawned as she glanced down at her own mountainous cleavage, only just covered by the plunging neckline of her dress.
‘It’s not that kind of breast. You British are so literal. ’
Winnie was waiting outside the shower room and gratefully took the bundle of clothes that Beryl handed over.
‘I fetched you a clean robe and so on and I went in to help Rick get something for Sid because I could hear him opening and shutting drawers as if he couldn’t find anything.
Typical man,’ Beryl said. ‘I just brought Sid’s towelling dressing gown and slippers in the end.
We won’t mind if he doesn’t get properly dressed, will we? ’
The others all shook their heads and Beryl continued. ‘You wouldn’t believe the state of his underwear. You single men are awful… he needs someone to revamp his style.’
Wordlessly, the others watched as Winnie headed into the shower room. They heard her call, ‘Only me, no need to cover up.’ The shower stopped running and silence fell.
Beryl was the first to rally. ‘Well, this Brest thing looks scrumptious,’ she said. ‘After all that excitement, I’m quite peckish again. Let’s get stuck in.’
Simone served generous portions to them all, being careful to leave enough for Winnie and Sid.
‘They’re being a very long time in there, aren’t they?
’ she said, casting a suspicious glance over towards the changing room.
Just as she spoke, the two in question emerged.
Beryl grinned to herself as she saw that Sid was being very careful to walk on the side away from the water.
She also noticed something else. Winnie and Sid were holding hands.