‘And Christina?’ Ernest added. ‘Don’t forget to come early to help me tonight with the family dinner.’
‘What dinner?’ she asked, turning and raising her eyes quizzically at Hamish.
‘I’ve asked everyone over for this evening.’
‘That’s short notice.’
‘And Flora wants you to help with the flowers first. She’s got her ladies coming for tea this afternoon. She’s expecting you after lunch.’
‘Is she now. Why can’t Amy cut the flowers? Ernest, what’s on the agenda tonight?’
‘Just ... finally getting round to what we didn’t discuss last time, thanks to Hugo’s impromptu impression of a drunk octopus.’
Christina narrowed her eyes. She still hadn’t worked out Ernest’s strategy – Hugo would be equally pickled tonight. ‘What’s this about?’
‘You’ll find out when you come,’ he said, then hung up.
Christina lowered the phone, letting her breath out in a cloud.
‘Sorry – estate stuff,’ she said vaguely.
He offered a thin smile. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Fine. Just accounts. Did you know we’re expected for dinner at the Manor tonight?’
‘Ah . . .’ he said.
She raised an eyebrow. So, not short notice for everyone.
They resumed walking.
Hamish pointed to a notch in the cliff face ahead. ‘There’s a spot up there I’ve been meaning to show you. Elizabethan lookout, supposedly. Great views. Smugglers used it. I thought maybe – when we’ve collected Elspeth—’ he looked across at her and smiled, ‘ah, but sounds like you’ve been summoned for flower arranging duties. Want me to collect Elspeth?’
She filed away the smile, which had been loving, but something in her twisted. She was being pushed away from maternal duties, so she could drive across Devon and retrieve a box of forged silver. She dug her boots into the sand, which gave way underfoot with a soft crunch. ‘That would be helpful.’
‘We still need to talk to Elspeth,’ said Hamish. ‘About what she’s been saying at school.’
Christina stopped, brushing windblown hair from her face. ‘I know. I just ... I don’t think we should turn it into a confrontation. She’s probably just trying to make sense of things.’
‘She told her classmates we’re getting divorced,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘That’s not nothing.’
‘I’m not saying we ignore it.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘But if we come down hard on her, it’ll only scare her. I think we need to be gentle. Let her feel it’s safe to talk. Reassure her that what she thinks is happening ... isn’t.’ She wanted to add that there was another person who desperately needed reassurance about divorce: Christina herself.
Hamish gave a short laugh. Not unkind but edged with disbelief. ‘Gentle. She’s not five. She needs to tell us what’s wrong, why she’s started misbehaving. We need to explain how this could affect her scholarship, not pretend it doesn’t matter!’
Christina looked away, out to sea, at the vast, restless grey dotted with fishing boats. It reminded her of her growing list of problems, unfurling like a fleet of Tudor ships, each one heavy with cannon and consequence, all sailing steadily toward her. ‘I’m not pretending,’ she said. ‘She’s scared.’Just like me.
He kicked at a pile of seaweed. ‘Tell you what. Why don’t I talk to her. Alone. I’ll pick her up from school after rehearsal and take her for a walk or something.’
Christina’s stomach tightened. ‘Okay,’ she said, almost inaudibly. ‘If you think that’s best.’ She didn’t ask what he wouldsay. She didn’t want to hear the answer.
They walked on, the tide pulling gently at the shore, and neither of them speaking.
Hamish glanced sideways. ‘You’re distracted. It’s not just Elspeth, something else is bothering you.’
‘Just ... bills mounting up,’ she said, too quickly.
They stopped. The wind ruffled his hair. She looked across at him, his eyes bright behind the tortoiseshell glasses, and the truth nearly rose.
