Gilly set a small table and chairs in the sitting room. Leo wasn’t the sort of man who’d want to eat in the kitchen and the dining room was far too large for dinnerà deux. But a little table in the window embrasure and the fire lit to add warmth and sparkle to the evening would be perfect. If she had only two guests who wanted dinner she put them there and everyone enjoyed it.
She polished the glasses and opened the wine. Leo had offered to bring wine but she had protested and bought some herself. She felt confident in her choice because she’d met William in Waitrose and he had helped her find one that had been praised in theSunday Times.
She was very happy with her meal by the time it was ready. A small clafoutis of vegetables in individual ramekins to start – the belly of pork was a substantial dish. Then the pork with amazing crackling, mashed potato that had been through the ricer and was as smooth as silk, softened with an indecent amount of butter, and some green beans. Then for pudding she just had a simple orange salad with chips of caramel. It was all about the pork, the rest were just grace notes to the main event.
In spite of her determination to put everything Helena had told her out of her head there was a touch of anxiety in the excitement she felt at the prospect of seeing Leo.
One of the many things she liked about him was that he always arrived when he said he would, and he did tonight with a bottle of wine under his arm.
‘Hello, you,’ he said, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘Hello, Leo,’ she said. ‘Come on in. It’s so lovely to see you.’ Being with him was very reassuring. He was a solid presence and it was easier to forget all she’d heard about him when he so obviouslywasn’t a jailbird. Whether or not he drove too fast was less clear.
‘I brought you this – I know I said I wouldn’t but I couldn’t resist …’
Gilly looked at the bottle and laughed. ‘It was on offer at Waitrose! I got a bottle too. Now that’s a good omen.’
‘Why would we need a good omen?’ he asked.
‘Oh, you know! It’s just something you say.’ Gilly took the bottle. ‘Come and sit by the fire. It’s a chilly evening. You know what they say: “As the days get longer the days get colder,” or some such. What would you like to drink?’
‘A glass of that sherry I brought you would be nice.’ He paused. ‘Have one too. It will help you relax. You seem a bit on edge this evening.’
‘Do I? Just worrying about the meal, I suppose. I’ll go and get the sherry.’
Gilly wasn’t remotely worried about the meal – she knew it was going to be perfect – but she was agitated. In spite of telling Helena she didn’t care about anything she’d told her – except perhaps the part about Leo being the man in the car on the wrong side of the road – it wasn’t true. And she’d thought about little else.
Sherry consumed, some fairly normal conversation enjoyed, Gilly went to get the starter. She released the little ramekins on to warm plates and was pleased to see the batter was perfectly set. She’deaten the dish in France once and had been pleased to find a recipe.
Leo had filled both their glasses with wine and for once ignored the jug of water that was also on the table. How was he getting home? Gilly wondered. She had no guests in that night and had deliberately kept this evening free, so she could easily put Leo up if he wanted to stay. But would he want his own bedroom or would he want to share hers? In spite of him being so ardent in many ways, he hadn’t actually kissed her properly yet. She didn’t know if he was biding his time (she really hoped that was it) or didn’t fancy her. She herself had decided their trip to Vienna was the time to pursue their relationship further.
‘This is very delicious,’ said Leo after a couple of mouthfuls.
‘I’m so glad you like it. We’re having belly of pork next so I wanted to do something light.’
‘My favourite!’ He paused. ‘Not the sort of thing your daughter-in-law Cressida would ever cook.’
A slight concern that she kept forgetting about came into Gilly’s head. ‘I’m sure you’ve told me …’ She wasn’t sure but she said it anyway. ‘Did you meet Cressida and Martin at mine that time we all had Sunday lunch? Or did you know them before?’
He hesitated just a fraction too long for her peace of mind. ‘I met them here, of course.’
It didn’t ring true but Gilly was determined not to spoil her evening.
‘So what news of Vienna?’ she said later, when they were halfway through their pork and the best way to achieve the perfect crackling (which this definitely was) had been discussed at length.
‘Oh! All booked!’ said Leo. ‘I’ll give you the details after supper. I can guarantee you’re going to absolutely love what I’ve planned. More wine?’
He topped up her glass and then his own.
For whatever reason, Gilly was not enjoying Leo’s company as much as usual. Previously she had revelled in the sound of his voice – it was beautifully modulated – and he was extremely well read and full of information about (it seemed) everything from gardening to ancient Greek literature and everything else in between. She knew she didn’t always listen to what he was saying and just let his voice wash over her. But now she was paying attention, waiting for a suitable gap for her to say something.
‘Would you like some more?’ she asked eventually, after a brief lecture on the life and works of Gustav Klimt which they would see when they went to Vienna.
He patted his stomach, currently covered in very fine wool tailoring. He cared a lot about his clothes and while Gilly liked clothes too, she did wonder at his choice of tie sometimes. Now was one of thosetimes; the pattern was a bit too busy for her. ‘Just a soupçon more would be lovely. I should probably decline as I’m sure you’ve got a wonderfully rich chocolate pudding for afterwards but my greed has got the better of me.’
While Gilly was in the kitchen refilling his plate she wondered if it was greed that had got him into trouble before. She also worried that he’d be disappointed by the pudding even though she’d taken such care to remove the pith from the oranges and had been liberal with the Grand Marnier. The caramel was perfect too. So often people didn’t cook the sugar for long enough, in Gilly’s opinion, so you didn’t get the proper caramel taste. Aware she was spending longer in the kitchen than was strictly necessary, she took Leo’s plate back through to the sitting room, the heated-up jus in a separate jug.
‘You are the most amazing cook,’ said Leo, gazing fondly at her. ‘And yet somehow you’ve managed to maintain your good figure. You’re not super-slim, of course, but still perfectly presentable. Figure-wise,’ he added quickly, possibly feeling Gilly stiffen at this faint praise.
