Second Thyme Around (25 page)

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Authors: Katie Fforde

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women

BOOK: Second Thyme Around
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‘You can care about food without having tantrums,’ said Perdita, who was sorting out more corn salad, originally earmarked for Ronnie. ‘I mean, I care about my salads all dying under the lights, but I don’t stamp my foot and shout about it.’
‘He’s an artist. More to the point, he’s eye candy. The women will love this programme. It’s the ultimate safe sex.’
‘Huh! What about the men?’
‘Oh, they’ve got you.’
Perdita muttered a rude word.
It was when ‘Eye Candy’ reduced one of his women to tears that Perdita lost her temper completely.
‘For crying out loud, Lucas! You are such a bastard! She’s trying her best, doing her job, chopping and slicing her socks off, but it’s never good enough, is it? Oh no, His
Highness wanted the cucumbers in one and a half centimetre chunks, and got them in two centimetre chunks, so he has a tantrum about that! And now you’re shouting at her for something which isn’t her fault at all! If you’re not used to cooking with sorrel, you don’t know it loses its acidity if it hangs around too long. You can’t blame her for not knowing! You were always fucking arrogant, but now you’re so up yourself, it’s not true!’
Everyone was silent. Perdita was suddenly aware she hadn’t used language like that, or spoken to Lucas in that way, in front of the entire crew before. They may have been snippy with each other, but she hadn’t really let rip until now.
Lucas didn’t seem to notice the effect Perdita’s outburst had had, he just went right on and had his own.
‘Will you butt out? This is none of your business. She doesn’t need Saint Perdita to rush to her rescue, saving every woman within fifty miles from Wicked Lucas, just because he once broke your heart! She happens to be a professional, not like you, playing about with your mustard and cress farm!’
‘Playing about, am I? Well, where would you be without my mustard and cress farm? You can’t get what I produce from the supermarket, you know. But from now on, you’ll have to. After this programme, I’m not supplying you with anything else! You can whistle for your hairy melons from now on!’
‘Children, children, what is going on?’
George rose from behind the table like a jack-in-the-box. He was staring in amazement. ‘I mean, I know you two know each other, but this is looking very like a domestic!’ He’d worked on several episodes of
The Bill,
and knew the jargon.
‘Well, that’s hardly surprising,’ said Lucas. ‘Considering—’
Their eyes locked. At the same moment they realised
that Lucas had nearly announced to the world via television that which they most wanted to keep secret. Laughter sparkled in his eyes and his mouth twitched convulsively.
‘Considering what, Lucas?’ asked Perdita, her expression solemn with the effort of trying not to laugh.
‘Considering what a very – very – exasperating woman you can be!’
 
 
Perdita got herself out of the way as quickly as possible. She didn’t want to confront Lucas until the memory of that shared moment had been forgotten. For that instant, they had been united – them against the world. For a mad, idiotic moment, she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if their union was for real, and not just a split second of airtime.
Beverley wasn’t in the kitchen and was unaware of Perdita’s arrival, and for the first time ever, Perdita didn’t immediately go in to see Kitty. She slipped upstairs to one of the attics, from which she knew the view was both magnificent and calming. She needed to see the sun gild the trees and hills turning the fields to a green velvet bedspread, and get a sense of perspective.
She was more shocked than annoyed to find Roger. He had a notebook and pen and was sorting through a cupboard of china.
‘Hello,’ she asked, somewhat breathlessly. ‘What are you doing?’
He turned. ‘Oh, Perdita. Back already? I was going to make you a nice cup of tea.’
‘That’s a kind thought, but what are you doing up here? Has Kitty persuaded you to look for something?’
He hesitated for the merest second. ‘Er, yes – I mean, in a way. She did mention some photographs the other day, and I thought I’d see if I could find them for her.’ He sensed her unease. ‘There’ll be a lot of sorting to be done when the time comes.’
‘What do you mean? What time?’
‘When Kitty dies. This’ll all have to be itemised and a proper inventory made.’
‘I expect you’re right, but she hasn’t died yet.’
‘But, Perdy,’ Perdita hated this contraction of her name, ‘it won’t be long now, will it? She’s very frail.’ He put a hand on her arm. She moved to the window, partly to remove it.
‘She’s not particularly frail. She’s made a brilliant recovery from her stroke. She may last for years.’
He exhaled sharply. ‘Oh, come on! I don’t want to seem harsh, but she’s going to die soon! You have to face it!’
‘I know, but I don’t have to face it until it happens.’
‘You need to make some preparation,’ he persisted gently. ‘Because I don’t think things’ll be quite as you expect them when she does die.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I think I should warn you – so it doesn’t come as a shock – that Aunt Kitty has made it clear to me I’m going to feature in her will. With a substantial legacy.’
‘But why should I need to prepare myself just because Kitty wants to leave you something?’
‘You still don’t get it, do you? I’m not talking a nominal hundred pounds, or whatever old ladies think is generous these days, I’m talking about most, if not all, the estate going to me.’
Perdita’s mouth had gone dry. She was appalled, not because he might be Kitty’s sole heir, but because he was thinking about it now, before she was even in her grave, let alone cold in it. ‘What?’ Her voice came out as a croak, as if the dust in the attic had got into her throat.
‘I am her only living relation, you know,’ Roger said gently. ‘She’ll have to leave everything to me now she knows about me. It’s only right, only what she’ll feel is right.’ Perdita got her arm out of reach quickly, before he could pat it. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll let you have the land
you use for agricultural rates, although – ’ he gave a rueful shake of the head as if things were out of his hands – ‘I’m sure I could get planning permission for it.’
Perdita moistened her lips and perched on a tea chest. Her mouth had gone stiff with shock and her heart had begun to pound in her chest. She knew her knees would have failed her if she’d tried to stand. ‘Roger—’
‘I know she’s led you to believe you’re entitled to everything, but I’m her own flesh and blood, you’re not even her goddaughter.’ He let this sink in. ‘And she already feels bad about the way my grandmother’s family treated my mother.’
Perdita still felt weak. How could anyone be so mercenary? ‘Oh, I know,’ she said, trying to sound normal. ‘She told me.’
‘What did she tell you?’
‘That she felt bad about the way your family had been treated, and that she meant to put things right.’
He nodded. ‘She does have a strong sense of justice. But will it convert to reality?’
‘How do you mean, exactly?’
He made a small, impatient gesture. ‘I mean, will she get round to changing her will? She could have had no idea of my existence when she made it.’
‘If she wants to change it, she will. She’s not gaga, you know.’ Perdita tried to conceal her shock and confusion which was heavily overlaid with outrage.
‘I know this is a bolt from the blue for you, but I will see you’re all right. I know it’s disappointing for you, when you must have felt for years that she didn’t have anyone else to leave her money to …’ This time he got hold of her wrist and held it between caressing fingers. ‘Do you know where she keeps it, by the way? Her will?’
Perdita pulled her hand away and shook her head. She had a fair idea, but she wasn’t sure, and she certainly didn’t want him getting his hands on it. How dare he
assume that she’d spent her life with Kitty looking forward to her money? ‘I’m afraid I haven’t a clue. It’s probably in the bank, or something. But what makes you think she didn’t know about you before? If my mother knew about you, why shouldn’t Kitty?’
‘It’s possible, but I’m afraid I can’t take the risk.’ He brushed the dust off his hands. ‘We don’t want Aunt Kitty’s wishes ignored because we couldn’t find the will.’
Perdita clenched her teeth to stop herself shouting that if Roger referred to Kitty as Aunt once more, she wouldn’t be answerable for the consequences.
‘I know you’ll want to do what’s right, and if you help me, I’ll let you have anything that’s of sentimental value. I’m not greedy, I just want what’s mine by right.’ He reached out and squeezed her upper arm.
‘Let’s go downstairs,’ said Perdita hoarsely. ‘I need a drink.’
 
Somehow she got through the evening with an appearance of normality. She almost found herself telling Beverley and Kitty how Lucas had nearly announced to the world that they had been married. But all the time her brain was chewing over Roger’s revelations about himself and his motives. Should she tell Kitty what had happened? If Kitty had been fit and able, she would have like a shot. But she wasn’t fit and able, and if she wanted to leave everything to Roger, that was her right. After all, Roger was a blood relation, and Perdita certainly didn’t feel she was entitled to anything just because she and Kitty loved each other.
Eventually she decided she’d have to think long and hard to decide what to do, and made an excuse to go to bed early. It was a huge relief to discover a note from Roger on the kitchen table saying he’d been called away. Perdita mean-spiritedly checked that he hadn’t taken the silver with him. It was only later that she realised he
might have gone off to arrange a new will for Kitty, or something equally underhand, but even if he had, there was nothing she could do about it.
 
The filming, scheduled for three days, went on for five. Perdita began to find it difficult to keep her business going. Ronnie and Lucas had both agreed to have whatever she wanted to give them, so she was able to cut swathes through anything which threatened to bolt, and dispatch William with a vanload. But when, on the third day of filming, she went to one of her seed tins, and discovered that the little bag of silica gel had gone pink, indicating dampness, she began to worry. She saved a lot of seed from year to year, but if she was to keep producing new salads to tempt the jaded palates of chef and bon viveur, she had to buy in expensive seed from other sources.
Most of the seeds seemed to be still in good condition, but the bag turning pink was an indication of her losing her grip as well as of dampness. Her anxiety about Roger didn’t help. She got up the moment it was light, did as much as she could in the poly-tunnels, and then came home to check that the Kitty-sitters were arranged for the afternoon. Then it was back to her cottage, to have her make-up put on and taken off again. After the day’s filming, she rushed back to Kitty, to regale her and Beverley with amusing tales about Lucas’s tantrums, and the enormity of the producer’s demands. On the final day she asked Sukie if she could paint on a smile for her, to save her face muscles.
Sukie laughed. ‘You are looking tired, I must say. Fortunately we have the technology to deal with those little rucksacks forming under your eyes.’
‘Good. Apart from anything else, I don’t want Kitty thinking I’m tired.’
‘It will be better when we’ve all gone.’
‘Yes, but I have enjoyed it. Really. It was a completely different experience. And Kitty and Beverley have loved hearing about it all. In fact, Kitty wants to invite everyone back for a drink before you all go home. I told her I thought you’d probably all want to push off, but that I’d see.’ Perdita was dubious about mixing Kitty with the world of television, but at least Roger was still away, although a postcard had arrived for Kitty saying he would be back soon. Perhaps by that time Perdita would have thought of how to handle him.
‘If we finish early – and God knows, we’ve overrun by two days, so we might – I’m sure the crew would be delighted. They’ve all heard so much about Kitty, from you and Lucas, it would be lovely to actually meet her.’
So, after a successful day of Lucas and Perdita fencing with words and (almost) cooking utensils, with just enough warning for Beverley to find Kitty’s hoarded bottles of champagne and put them in the freezer, the entire crew, except Lucas, who had to go back to Grantly House, trooped into Kitty’s sitting room.
She enchanted them. She found something pertinent to say to each one, she made everyone feel flattered and talented, and by the time they all left to go home, the producer was begging Kitty to let him make a documentary about her.
Perdita, who was delighted to see Kitty so happy, was also anxious about her. Her colour was heightened, which could just have meant she was having a lovely time, and had had a glass of champagne too many. Or it could mean she was running a fever, and knowing Kitty’s capacity for alcohol, Perdita feared the latter. Oh please, God, she prayed silently, don’t let Kitty die until I’ve found how she wants things left!
Perdita didn’t press her hand against Kitty’s head, for fear of having it bitten in annoyance, but she did kiss her cheek, placing her own against Kitty’s. As she had done
this every day since her stroke, she knew that Kitty felt the same as she had that morning. But something was wrong.
‘Are you feeling all right? Not overtired by those media types?’
‘No, they were all delightful. I thoroughly enjoyed myself.’ Kitty sounded a little cross. ‘What a pity Lucas couldn’t come. I haven’t seen him for ages.’
‘He’s been dreadfully busy – filming all day and then rushing back to cook at night. He says you can lose your star if you appear on too many television programmes and seem to have dropped the ball.’
‘He hasn’t got his star yet, has he?’ Kitty frowned. ‘He didn’t tell me if he has.’
‘No – the book doesn’t come out until January. But if he does get it, and the telly thing’s a success, and they want to make a series with him, he wants to be able to do both.’
‘Would you do a series, if they asked you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Perdita didn’t want to commit herself. She was worried about Kitty but couldn’t say why. ‘It was huge fun, but terribly time-consuming. They probably won’t ask me to do another one.’
‘You and Lucas are good friends now, anyway.’
‘Are we? First I heard about it. I threw a bowl of sprouted lentils at him yesterday.’
‘My dear child! I don’t know how he puts up with you. Still, when you’re in love, you’re in love.’
Perdita felt the blood rush to her face; suddenly she felt she must be the one running a temperature. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Oh dear, have I said something I shouldn’t? I thought you must know. It’s so obvious to everyone else.’
Perdita wiped her forehead on her sleeve. ‘Kitty darling, I hate to be rude to an old lady, but you’re talking complete rubbish. Lucas and I barely manage to be civil to each other. But he is extremely fond of you,
which is why he’s kind to me sometimes.’ Although that morning he had made some very unflattering remarks about her delivery of the lines, ‘This really is delicious, Chef’ in a very public way.
‘I’ve spoken out of turn, and I shouldn’t have. It’s not as if Lucas has actually said anything to me, after all. It’s just the way he talks about you.’
‘Oh, Kitty, I’m sure you’ve got your wires crossed.’
‘I’m sure I haven’t. It will give me great satisfaction to see you remarried from whatever cloud they allocate me.’
‘You’re very sure of yourself! How do you know it won’t be a red-hot tufa rock?’
‘Don’t change the subject. I know it’s too much to hope to see you married while I’m still alive, but I’ll be there in spirit.’
‘Oh, Kitty!’

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