‘Oh, you’re wearing that, are you?’ her mother-in-law had said as they walked to the chapel. ‘How interesting.’
There were few more damning words in Lady Katherine’s vocabulary. Topless models were ‘interesting’. Newbuild housing estates were ‘interesting’. Tattoos and piercings were ‘interesting’. She had once described Osama bin Laden as ‘a very interesting man’ before going on to say that she had sat next to his cousin at a dinner in Paris in 1985 and found him ‘extremely interesting’ too.
Serena reminded herself to breathe. Lady Katherine was grieving, after all. Ben, too, had been distracted and distant for days. She hadn’t seen him cry since Fliss’s death, which worried her. It was so terribly sad. It wasn’t that she and Fliss had ever been particularly close, but still Serena had to swallow back tears whenever she remembered they’d never see each other again. She reminded herself that they had tried their best to help her. They’d sent Fliss to rehab several times over the years and on every occasion, she had insisted she was cured and embarked on a round of apologising to anyone she thought her addiction had hurt. Serena had received three painstaking letters written in Fliss’s loopy handwriting, each one saying sorry for slights or meanness that Serena had either not noticed or forgotten.
Fliss’s final period of sobriety had lasted several months and they’d all been lulled into a false sense of security. Serena had genuinely thought this one would stick, but no. It was such a waste.
Really, the highlight of the entire day had been seeing Martin Gilmour after all these years. Serena was very pleased she had thought to invite him. He had vastly improved in both looks and stature – no longer the creep she remembered who used to follow Ben around like a needy pet, but a man in possession of himself. He had lost the chip on his shoulder and replaced it with a waspish superiority she found entertaining.
And Jarvis. Of course Jarvis was there without Bitsy, whose mother was ill. Bitsy had always been so dull that even her excuses were boring. She was precisely the kind of person who would have an ill mother.
After the service, Jarvis had sought Serena out in the rose garden. She was sitting on a bench with Bear, who had agreed to snuggle with her in return for being able to play on her phone. She rested her cheek on her youngest child’s head, inhaling the smell of small boy grassiness mixed with Head & Shoulders.
‘What a gorgeous sight,’ Jarvis said and when she looked up, Serena saw that he meant it. And that he meant it about her.
‘Go on then, my little cub,’ she said, shooing Bear off the bench. ‘Why don’t you see if you can find the others?’
Bear, confused by his mother’s briskness, silently handed back her phone.
‘Love you!’ she called after his receding form. The nanny would look after him.
‘Serena,’ Jarvis said in his gravelly voice. He really did have a sexy voice, even if the rest of him wasn’t quite her normal type. He looked older than Ben and had never given up the teenage habit of smoking, or drinking to excess. And yet the unapologetic nature of his demeanour was compelling.
‘Jarvis,’ Serena replied, allowing him to graze her cheek with a kiss that left a wet mark on her face.
He looked at her.
‘It’s wonderful to see you, albeit in such sad circumstances. How are you bearing up?’
‘I’m doing OK, all things considered,’ she said. It was the phrase she’d decided to use when people asked, and she’d repeated it so many times it had begun to lose its meaning. ‘You know what Fliss was like …’
Jarvis gave a rueful little grin.
‘Causing a glorious kind of chaos everywhere she went, even in death,’ Serena continued. ‘We used to call her “the bolter” – do you remember?’
‘I do, very well.’
‘She’d just run away when things got too messy. I suppose it was kind of inevitable she would run out of places to run to.’
‘Very true,’ Jarvis said. They lapsed into silence. Then he asked: ‘How’s the Tipworth refurb going?’
Serena was relieved to have the subject so deftly changed.
‘All done, thanks to you,’ she said. ‘The Espalier wallpaper in the master is completely stunning. You’ll have to come and see it one day.’
‘Now that’s an offer I can’t refuse.’
Serena blushed.
‘You don’t have a glass of champagne,’ he said and beckoned over a waiter. He took two glasses from the tray and gave one to her.
‘How’s work?’ she asked.
‘Same as ever.’
He slipped out some Marlboro Lights and offered the packet to her. She checked that none of her children was in view and took one. He lit the cigarette for her. She inhaled, feeling the wallop of tobacco at the back of her throat. Ah, nicotine, her loyal friend!
‘You’re looking very lovely,’ Jarvis said.
