I found Marilise on good form, and half an hour later we were eating breakfast at her table by the window and looking through the pictures from the night before.
‘I was right about the dress,’ she said, sounding pleased. ‘You and Nick make such a lovely couple. And don’t worry, I’m not going to interrogate you, but I do know that you weren’t pretending. I’m glad. Now, who is this person sitting next to you? He looks very handsome, but rather slick.’
Grateful for her discretion, I talked her through the best parts of the evening: the concert, the food and the sleigh ride home, reliving it with her until it was time for her morning nap.
After our swim, which cleared the last vestiges of sleep-deprived, champagne-fuelled fuzziness from my head, Marilise and Idecided to wrap some presents to put under the tree. An avid online shopper, parcels had been arriving for her throughout the past few days and, with both the girls out, it was a good opportunity.
‘I’ll go and make us some tea,’ I said. ‘And I’ll find Astrid and tell her not to come in.’
I knew that Marilise had bought her a glamorous pair of tangerine-coloured satin pyjamas with turquoise piping, and it would be such a shame if she saw them and spoilt the surprise. But when I pushed the kitchen door open, all thoughts of Christmas surprises flew from my mind, for Astrid was sitting at the kitchen table, her head on her folded arms, sobbing her heart out. I ran over to her and touched her shoulder gently.
‘Astrid?’
She lifted her head and quickly began rubbing the tears from her eyes, although she could not stop them spilling out. She tried to apologise, but her words were snatched away by tearing sobs and she dropped her head again. I pulled a chair up next to her, grabbed the kitchen roll from the side and pushed a piece into her hand, then I sat quietly, my arm around her, and made soothing noises. Eventually, she started to quieten, the gulps became shallower, and she raised her head again and dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. I stroked her hair away from her hot face.
‘Tea?’ I asked.
‘Yes, yes, please,’ she said, sniffing, and I stood up to put the kettle on. At the same time, I surreptitiously texted Marilise to warn her that I wouldn’t be back for a little while and she should start the wrapping without me. A few minutes later, we were both clasping large mugs of tea and had made inroads into the plate of ginger snaps I thought it was necessary to also put out.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I asked.
She nodded, blotting a few more errant tears.
‘It’s Philip,’ she said, which came as no surprise. ‘He’s – he’s emailed to say…’
She started crying again and grasped for her phone. She tapped it briefly, then handed it to me. I read the email on the screen, which was cold and businesslike, calling off not only the wedding but the entire relationship.With some time to reflect, he had written,I do not believe that it would be beneficial to either of us to continue our association. I wish you all the best for the future.I had never met the man, but I hated him on poor Astrid’s behalf.
‘Wow,’ I said, putting down the phone. ‘Your association. Were you selling him insurance?’
She laughed at this, as I had intended.
‘Not sure he was the good bet I thought he was,’ she said, her voice shaky. ‘How could he? Howcouldhe, Laura? By email. We’ve been together over two years, and I thought we were all right.’
‘Forgive me, Astrid,’ I said, ‘but you deserve a hell of a lot better than all right.’
She shrugged.
‘But it was so wonderful for India.’
‘Well, India didn’t have to be married to him,’ I said stoutly. ‘She’d have gone off to university or something else in a few years’ time and you would have been stuck on a Texan cattle ranch with this cold fish.’
She giggled.
‘He was, rather. At first, I thought he was great fun, a good old-fashioned Dallas cowboy with an oilwell or two, but’ – she lowered her voice as if he could hear her – ‘he was rather boring.’
‘Well, there you go, then,’ I said. ‘You’re bound to feel heartbroken; it’s the shock as much as anything, but it doesn’t sound like there’s much to get over.’
‘It was a shock,’ she said. ‘But I’m crying as much for India as myself. Not just the ranch and the horses,’ she added quickly. ‘But where are we going to go now? I’m sure that Nick’s going to sell Lyonscroft and Marilise will move to London. We could go, too, of course, but what will India do with Firefly?’
The tears began to fall again.
I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Nick the day I arrived at Lyonscroft, when I had thoroughly overstepped, but he had sworn he would never sell the house from under Astrid. Had he ever spoken to her about it? Had he changed his mind? I didn’t want to tell Astrid about it and get her hopes up, in case I was wrong, and I also wanted to get my own feelings in order. She seemed very sure that he was about to sell and disappear off around the world again, and where did that leave him, me and our burgeoning relationship? Maybe Steph had been right.
‘Astrid,’ I said gently, tearing off some more kitchen roll and handing it to her. ‘I think you need to speak to Nick. I know he hates this house, but I can’t imagine him pushing you all out to sell it, especially with Marilise so frail.’
Astrid gazed at me, her huge blue eyes swimming with tears.
‘I shouldn’t say it,’ she whispered. ‘But Marilise, well, she, oh dear, that is to say, she won’t be around forever. I can’t expect him to keep the house for me.’
