Summer at the Lake (13 page)

Floriana laughed and helped herself to a vol-au-vent after Esme had taken one. ‘In Summertown maybe.’

‘Do you think your sister is jealous of you?’ Esme suggested. ‘From where she’s standing your life must seem wonderfully unencumbered and spontaneous compared to hers.’

Floriana let out another laugh. ‘Jealous of me? Ann would no more want my life than she would want typhoid fever. No, the long and the short of it is she loves to disapprove of me; it comes with being the older sister, I guess.’

‘What a shame, but since it’s the job of the young to exaggerate, I’m inclined to take some of what you say with a pinch of salt, because I refuse to believe your family isn’t proud of you.’

‘Oh, Mum and Dad are OK with what I do,’ Floriana said, ‘but I’m sure they, in common with Ann, thought I’d come to something more. It’s the Oxford thing; it raises expectations to absurd heights. In Ann’s eyes I should, at the very least, have what she has: a husband, two children, a large four-bedroom detached house with two cars on the drive, blah, blah.’

‘And do you see that as something you’d like one day?’

‘Come on, Esme, look at me. Do I look like I aspire to that kind of lifestyle? I’m happy with my life as it is, thank you very much. OK, a bit more cash in my pocket would be good, but I can’t complain, not when I have a job I love and my very own home. For which I have to thank my grandmother; the money she left me when she died went towards the deposit, no way could I have bought it without that gift from her. Ann got exactly the same amount and has it invested to pay her children’s school and university fees. See, different priorities again,’ she added with a shrug.

Esme was about to ask something else when she heard the sound of ringing coming from Adam.

‘Sorry,’ he said, a hand darting to his trouser pocket. Esme had never used a mobile herself, but she was sufficiently acquainted with them to know that when one rang or buzzed, it demanded immediate attention, no matter the situation.

‘Please answer it,’ she said, noticing that Adam’s expression had dramatically altered on looking at the screen of the mobile.

‘I’ll take it out in the hall if I may,’ he said as the ringing continued.

When he’d closed the door after him, Floriana leant across the table. ‘I bet that’s Jesse,’ she whispered.

‘Was he expecting her to get in touch?’ Esme’s voice was equally hushed.

‘He’s been expecting her to call ever since he sent her a Christmas card. He’s bought her a present as well.’

Knowing how taciturn Adam tended to be, Esme said, ‘How do you know that?’

‘He told me. He wanted my opinion on whether he’d done the right thing or not.’

‘I do hope she’s not stringing him along, I’d hate to see him go through any unnecessary pain.’

‘Me too. But as my mother, that ardent fan of a happy ending, would be the first to say, time apart worked for Prince William and Kate. Which,’ she said with a smile, ‘backs up my theory that procrastination isn’t always a bad thing.’

Wiping the flakes of vol-au-vent pastry from her fingers and then dabbing her mouth with the napkin, Esme said, ‘Does that mean you still haven’t replied to Seb’s card?’

‘Let’s just say it’s a work in progress. So what are
you
doing for Christmas? Will you spend it with anyone?’

‘I shall have a very quiet day here on my own with Euridice, as I always do,’ Esme said, noting how deftly Floriana had diverted her from the matter of Seb and his card. ‘Goodness,’ she then exclaimed, ‘I’ve just realised that wily cat must have followed Adam out of the room, she seems to have become utterly devoted to him.’

At which point the door opened and Adam, with Euridice hot on his heels, reappeared. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, his face bright with what Esme took to be good news.

‘Was that Jesse?’ Floriana asked, when he resumed his seat at the table.

‘Yes,’ he said with a look of surprise. ‘How did you know?’

‘Ooh, just a guess. What does she want?’

‘She wants to meet to exchange Christmas presents tomorrow evening. I don’t know what’s surprised me more – the fact she’s bought me something or that she’s prepared to meet.’

Esme wanted to urge him not to read too much into it, largely because people often behaved hypocritically at Christmas and did what they thought was expected of them, rather than what they really wanted to do. Keeping her thoughts to herself, she said, ‘I’ll make us some tea now, shall I?’

It was dark and snowing heavily when they left Trinity House and set off for Church Close. Passing cars had churned up the snow that lay on the road, but no one had so far walked along the pavement and the pristine covering of snow sparkled in the glowing light cast from the street lamps.

‘Here,’ Adam said, giving Floriana his arm to hold on to when she’d come close to falling over for the second time. ‘Let’s not risk you hitting your head again just as you’ve healed so well.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, gratefully hooking her arm through his and giggling.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘You living up to your name, Mr Strong.’

‘I could easily become Mr Mean and push you over and stuff handfuls of snow down your neck.’

‘Ah, but you wouldn’t, you’re much too nice.’

‘Don’t bet on it. Remember, I’m a property developer, which means I’m ruthless to the core and act only out of self-interest.’

‘No you’re not, you’re one of the most considerate people I know.’

He groaned. ‘Party food and a couple of glasses of mulled wine and you go all cheesy on me.’

‘Am I embarrassing you?’

‘Excruciatingly so.’

‘Thank goodness for that, I thought I was losing my touch.’ It always amused Floriana that Adam was such an easy target to tease or wrong-foot. He was too serious for his own good; he needed to lighten up.

They walked on in silence, the dry powdery snow crunching underfoot. A car passed by at a snail’s pace and when it had gone, its red tail lights disappearing into the distance, Floriana said, ‘If I wasn’t going to my sister’s for Christmas, I’d invite Esme to come to me. It seems all wrong that she should be alone.’

‘How do you know she’s going to be alone?’

‘I asked her when you were on the phone. She said it would be just her and Euridice.’

‘Hmm . . . I agree with you, that doesn’t seem right.’

‘It’s obvious she doesn’t have the busiest of social lives, but I’d imagined there would be at least one relative or old friend with whom she’d spend the day.’ Floriana paused. ‘When are you back from Thame?’

‘Probably Boxing Day evening. Why?’

An idea had occurred to her. ‘Why don’t we arrange something for Esme when we’re both back in Oxford? We could invite her to lunch, or perhaps dinner? I’m not the best of cooks, but I’ll give it a go. I could even have a crack at doing a turkey. I’ve never cooked one before, but how difficult can it be? It’s just a chicken on a bigger scale, isn’t it?’ Gripped with sudden enthusiasm for the idea, she said, ‘I wasn’t going to bother, but this would give me a reason to buy a Christmas tree and put up a few decorations. What do you think?’

‘I think your mind’s now made up and I’m happy to go along with you. I’d also hazard a guess that you’re after the next instalment of the story – What Esme Did Next.’

Floriana laughed. ‘And if your mobile hadn’t gone off when it did, I would have kept Esme on track and we’d know exactly what she did next.’

They turned into Church Close and with it being a cul-de-sac and not having attracted any through traffic, not even a resident’s car had been in or out, they were presented with a scene of magical winter wonderland. Whether Adam was right and she was mellow with mulled wine and party food, but the sight filled Floriana with a comforting surge of childlike awe and joy.

‘You’re welcome to come in for a warm and a drink before going,’ she said, when they got to work clearing the snow from Adam’s car.

‘Thanks, but at the rate this snow is falling if I come in for any length of time, the car will be covered again.’

He was right; the snow was coming down so fast they themselves were beginning to resemble a pair of snowmen. But observing Adam across the bonnet of his car, she was struck how incredibly earnest he looked as he worked methodically at clearing the windscreen. A mischievous thought came to her.

Don’t do it
, the sensible adult in her warned.

But the naughty child in her wasn’t listening – the naughty child was too busy scooping up a handful of snow and taking aim.

He ducked but not quickly enough and the snowball caught him on the shoulder. ‘What was that for?’ he asked.

‘No real reason, other than it felt like fun. You do know what fun is, don’t you, Adam?’

He stared at her, and for an awful moment she thought she had gone too far. But then he began to scoop up a pile of snow from the roof of the car and patted it into shape. ‘You wouldn’t be accusing me of being boring, would you?’

‘I certainly am!’ She dropped to her knees behind the car as the missile flew overhead, causing just a small shower of snow to fall on her. ‘And you’re a useless shot into the bargain!’ she laughed back at him.

‘Oh yeah? We’ll see about that!’

As raucous snowball fights went, it was up there with the best. Floriana scored the first direct to the face, followed almost immediately by Adam doing the same to her. Their cries and laughter rang out in the quiet still air and when a nearby dog joined in and began barking, they decided they’d disturbed the peace of the neighbourhood enough and called a truce.

Shaking the snow from her hair and leaning against the car and panting with exhileration, her face and hands stinging with cold, Adam stood next to her brushing the worst of the snow from his coat and trousers. ‘Thank you,’ he said, his breath ragged and his eyes shining in the street lamp.

‘What for?’

‘For making me behave like a kid. It’s a while since I’ve done anything so stupidly good fun.’

She smiled. ‘It’s a while since I’ve had anyone to enjoy a snowball fight with. I’m definitely out of practice.’ In her mind’s eye she could see the many fight-to-the-death battles she and Seb used to have.

‘Bloody hell,’ Adam muttered, ‘I’d hate to see you when you’re match fit in that case. Go on,’ he added, ‘you’d better go inside and get dry, I’ll be off now.’

She pushed herself away from the car. ‘Drive carefully, won’t you?’ she said, when he had the door open.

‘Will do.’

‘Hey,’ she said, suddenly thinking of his call from Jesse. ‘Good luck for tomorrow evening. I hope it goes well. But don’t expect too much. Just go with the flow.’

He nodded. ‘Message received loud and clear. No putting any pressure on her.’

‘Or yourself.’

He closed the door and she watched him set the windscreen wipers going, along with the heater. He then lowered the window. ‘I’ll give you a ring about your idea for Esme,’ he said, ‘and we can decide which day to do it. OK?’

‘Excellent.’

She watched him drive slowly down the street and after she’d let herself in and shrugged off her wet things in the hall, she went through to the sitting room in her stockinged feet. At the sight of her lovely new carpet and the transformation it had made to the room, she wished she’d remembered to thank Adam again for his help.

No doubt about it, he was one of the good guys. Whatever Jesse’s problem with him was, she had better get her act together because men like Adam didn’t grow on trees.

The country was in the grip of an Arctic Big Freeze, which was newspaper hyperbole for twenty-four hours of snow.

Adam’s concern about the weather was that it might prevent Jesse from meeting him as arranged. Putting aside his selfish need to see her, he’d texted her earlier to give her the option to postpone meeting until the weather had improved, but she’d replied that this evening was the only free slot she had, as her diary was full right up until Christmas Eve when she finished work.

While he waited for her to arrive, Adam didn’t know whether to feel encouraged that she was so determined to see him tonight and was prepared to brave the roads, or disheartened that she had referred to this evening as her only free slot, as though he was just another appointment fitted into her hectic schedule.

He was reading too much into the evening, of course, but it was hard not to. He felt that everything was riding on how well it went; more precisely, how well he performed. It was like he was a prisoner up for probation!

Floriana had texted him in the afternoon to wish him luck again and to thank him for the carpet which, she’d joked, she had yet to roll around on.

He’d half expected her to be the kind of girl who would pepper her messages with
lol
and
lmao
and the ubiquitous smiley or unhappy face, but he was pleased to be proved wrong. He was firmly of the opinion that that sort of thing was strictly for teenagers, that anyone older than twenty had no right to use urban slang or send messages containing text abbreviations – his dyslexia meant he found the latter particularly tiresome. It was a pet hate of his, but there was nothing worse than someone his age trying to behave like a school kid.

At the back of his mind there was a small but growing worry that he was in the early stages of turning into a grumpy old man. What was it Floriana had said yesterday? ‘You do know what fun is, don’t you, Adam?’ And then had come his admission that he’d forgotten how much fun a snowball fight was. He and his brother used to have some marathon fights in the snow. Being as competitive as they were with each other, they’d keep going until they’d either used up all the available snow or one of them was hurt.

He wondered when Giles has last thrown a snowball. He suddenly felt compelled to call his brother and ask him. But that would be stupid. Besides, there was no time. Jesse would be here any second. She was ten minutes late, but that was understandable, the roads were lethal after yesterday’s snow and the fresh fall today, but the real danger was that the temperature hadn’t risen so what lay on the ground was now icy and treacherous. It had dropped to minus ten in the night; the coldest it had been so far this winter.