‘Do call me Patsy! The other is such a mouthful – I’ve practically gone to sleep before anyone’s got my name out! And I want to take you away from this hovel, which needs so much work doing before it’s suitable for our young couple, and take you up to the house. I’m hoping we’ll find some lunch.’ Patsy took hold of Mrs Spencer’s arm and led her out of the house. Lizzie followed.
‘Darling?’ Patsy turned to Lizzie. ‘Why don’t you wait here for Hugo? He wants to see the house properly too, and you can explore it together. Now come with me, Mrs Spencer—’
‘Angela, please.’
‘You must be gasping for a glass of sherry, if not a perfectly enormous gin and tonic …’
Lizzie watched with awe and gratitude as her mother fell under Patsy’s spell. She felt exhausted.First, she had had to get the vicar’s wife on side, and do quite a lot of flower arranging, and then deal with her mother, full of criticism and disapproval. While she longed to see Hugo – so much had happened since breakfast – she didn’t really feel up to going round the house measuring for curtains or whatever was deemed necessary.
She went out into the garden and found the bench she had seen from the upstairs window. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sun.
‘Hello,’ said a quiet, deep voice and she opened her eyes and saw Hugo.
‘Hello,’ she said back.
‘Are you hungry? I’ve brought a picnic. Patsy insisted. She felt you needed a break from bossy women, and she included herself in that.’
‘Actually I am hungry. What’s the time?’
‘Two o’clock. I gather you’ve had a busy day.’
‘I have.’ She thought back over what she’d done. ‘I think it will be all right to get married in the church though. That’s one less thing to worry about.’
‘That’s good. Your mother – who has completely changed her opinion of me, although I gather your father still thinks I’m a bounder – and Patsy are making multiple lists for everything that needs doing.’
‘I think Daddy might be a bit overawed by your background,’ said Lizzie, having thought about this.‘And now he’s embarrassed he’s been so rude to you.’
‘I don’t blame him. Anyone would think badly of the man who’s carrying off his only daughter.’
He paused. ‘Is that bench comfy? Shall we have lunch out here?’
‘Yes, let’s,’ said Lizzie, thinking the bench was quite small and they would be sitting close to each other, which was a nice idea.
‘I’ll go and get it.’
He came back with two brown paper bags. ‘I hope you weren’t expecting a Fortnum’s hamper sort of picnic. Tim did it while I was talking to your mother.’ He paused. ‘She has very firm ideas about your wedding, hasn’t she?’
Lizzie nodded. ‘I’m sure I’ve told you, but she’s known what she wants for me ever since I was tiny. But of course, you mustn’t agree to anything you don’t like.’
‘What about you? Will you agree to things you don’t like because your mother wants them?’
‘Yes. As long as I’m allowed to make my own wedding dress, I don’t really care. Now what’s in that paper bag?’
He handed her a bag. ‘Two doorstep sandwiches – cheese, I think. An apple and some fruit cake.’ He paused. ‘And a bottle of wine and a bottle of lemonade, made by our hostess’s own fair hands,apparently.’ He drew two plastic beakers out of his pockets. ‘Wine or lemonade?’
‘A bit of wine,’ she said. ‘Then lemonade.’
A couple of sips of wine felt like enough, she realised. Then she bit into the thick, white sandwich. ‘This is delicious,’ she said, hoping she didn’t sound surprised, although she was.
‘Yup. Sometimes when I’m at a point-to-point or something, having a picnic out of the back of someone’s car, and they serve crab tart and little vol-au-vents, I long for a proper sandwich. Or “sangwich” as my father always calls them.’
‘They’re never going to accept me, are they?’ said Lizzie, suddenly less hungry than she had been.
‘They will,’ said Hugo. ‘Give them time. They’ll discover what a lovely woman you are and how you’ll make me far happier than Electra ever could.’
‘Do you really think that?’ Then she realised she wasn’t sure if she was referring to his parents’ feelings about her or his conviction that she would make him happy. She wondered if he knew which question he was answering.
‘Absolutely!’ he said, sounding surprised that she should be in doubt. ‘Good Lord! If it hadn’t been almost an arranged marriage, encouraged since we were babies, Electra and I wouldn’t have gone further than a few dinner dates. But then it became a habit. Her father’s influence could have helpedmy career, and she was very keen on being married to a barrister.’
