Thankfully, the conversation travelled forwards, to plans for the following day. Madeleine was having a couple of hours’ worth of lessons, Rose said she wanted to ski with Tania, and they successfully persuaded Clara to join them. With a plan in place, Tania began to relax. She took a spoonful from her pot of chocolate mousse, savouring the rich flavour. It was good, the texture light enough to balance the strong taste, so that it didn’t cloy the inside of her mouth.
‘Yum,’ Madeleine said. ‘Tom, this is delicious. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. Leave room for some cheese, won’t you?’
The corners of Clara’s mouth turned upwards at the mention, her eyes darting across to where Tom was arranging crackers in a bowl. Tania wondered why, then decided it didn’t matter. Clara hadn’t refilled her wine glass for at least half an hour, and that was already a massive improvement on the previous evening.
‘Do they serve chocolate mousse at the Cocoon?’ Madeleine asked.
‘Probably. Why?’ Tania said.
‘I’m already planning tomorrow’s lunch,’ Madeleine said, with a grin.
‘I’m meeting Maddy there after her lesson,’ Rose said. ‘So, it makes sense if we all go there for lunch, don’t you think?’
‘Great idea,’ Clara said. ‘I love that place.’
Tania frowned. The Cocoon was the last place she wanted to be tomorrow, at lunchtime. He’d think she was there because of his invitation. He’d think she was interested in him. Well, she decided, that would be his problem. She was free to go wherever she chose, and if he misinterpreted the situation that would be his fault. Because she couldn’t be less interested in him if she tried. Of that she was sure.
Distraction from her thoughts came in the form of a platter of cheese and biscuits which Tom brought across to the table. Tania didn’t have a massive appetite at the best of times and had already eaten far too much. Which was annoying because the cheese looked unfamiliar and interesting. Pale and semi-soft, with a grey line running through its centre. She was determined to try it, even though her stomach was telling her that its cup was already dangerously near to runneth-ing over.
Tom stayed at the side of the table, standing close to Clara as he began to explain the history of the locally produced cheese. Madeleine piped up with a question.
‘What’s the grey stuff in the middle?’
Tom laughed, and to Tania’s surprise, Clara joined in, her head tipped up, her gaze finding and resting lightly on the chef.
‘Shall I tell them, or do you want to?’ Tom said, the crinkles at the edges of his eyes deepening as he looked at Clara.
For all the world, Tania wouldn’t have been surprised if Tom had placed a hand on Clara’s shoulder, the scene had that kind of feel to it. Tania stilled; she must be imagining things. Although she thought it could only be a good thing if Clara managed to move forwards, in whatever way that might be, she couldn’t see her engaging in a holiday romance, not so soon after losing Mike and Poppy. They’d been at a loss as to how to help her, and Tania had floundered about for ages wondering if organising this trip would be of any positive benefit. After all, what could you say or do to help someone whose husband and infant daughter had both been killed in a car accident? But a new relationship, so soon? No, that didn’t seem right. That wasn’t Clara.
‘It’s ash,’ Clara said. ‘Tell them the rest, Tom.’ She looked around the table, eyes brighter than Tania had seen them in a long time. ‘He’ll explain it properly.’
Tania didn’t listen to the explanation about the grey line properly. She tasted the cheese and listened politely, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She was watching Clara watching Tom. Blowing out her cheeks, she tried, unsuccessfully, to catch Rose’s eye. The whole idea of this holiday was to try to make a dent in the grip the black dog seemed to have on their friend. Was a stranger going to be able to help with that? Only time would tell, she supposed.
Tom was taking coffee orders when they heard the main door opening. Tania frowned and climbed to her feet.
‘Are we expecting anyone?’ she said.
Sometimes the ski-hire firms sent people around to check clients were happy with their equipment, but Madeleine was the only other person who’d hired skis and boots for this week, and she shook her head.
‘Do you want me to see who it is?’ Tom said.
The outside door was opened by code, so whoever was downstairs had to know it. It was unlikely to be an intruder, and yet they all looked at one another in confusion.
‘Hello?’ A voice shouted from below, footsteps sounding on the wooden staircase. ‘Anyone home?’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Tania said, feeling her shoulders tighten. ‘What’s he doing here?’
The voice was unmistakeable. It was Lysander. Tania’s brother.
Chapter 7
Madeleine had never met Tania’s brother, never even seen him in person; she’d only ever seen photos of him advertising products in magazines. It was fair to say that the tousled poses they had him adopting, with an arm draped around a wisp of a female model after a supposedly amazing night out, a hand running casually through his messy blond hair while his clothing looked suitably dishevelled but devilishly desirable, had him looking drop dead gorgeous. But none of those photos did justice to seeing him in the flesh.
Looking at him, standing at the top of the staircase with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a lazy smile accentuating his features, Madeleine could only think of one description which did Lysander Harrington justice.
Gods of Olympus made mortal.
