‘I’m an arable farmer,’ Gull said. ‘We grow wheat, barley, oilseed rape. That sort of thing.’
Lysander snorted a laugh. ‘A bit random.’ He shifted his gaze to Tania. ‘I suppose that’s another one to tick off your list, though, sister dearest. How many points for a farmer?’
Tania tried to tighten her grip on Gull’s hand, but he eased his hand from hers. She thought he might move, break away from Lysander’s intense focus. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
‘I think “farmer” scores top points, doesn’t it?’ Gull said. ‘We’ve definitely got all the biggest equipment.’
Lysander’s eyebrows hitched, then he tilted his head a little. ‘Touché,’ he said.
‘How about you?’ Gull asked. ‘What do you do?’
Her brother laughed, but the laugh most definitely didn’t reach his eyes. Tania wasn’t sure whether he was amused that Gull didn’t already know who he was, or whether he was annoyed at Gull for not immediately conceding to– as Lysander no doubt saw it– the most important player in the room.
The thing was, if she thought about it, there was no particular reason for Gull to recognise him. She’d feared an instant cognition, an immediate two-plus-two-makes-four moment in which Gull would look at Lysander and then her, with the inevitable, irreversible changes in his view of her taking place as she stood there, helpless to stop it. But there was no real reason for Gull to make the connection. Even if he had seen any of the multitude of adverts Lysander featured in, out of context like this, she supposed any recognition of Donkey was less likely.
‘I’m into the mass marketing of clothing,’ he said. The corner of his mouth hitched a little.
‘You’re a wholesaler?’ Gull asked.
‘More of a brand ambassador.’ Lysander was playing with him, like a cat spiking at a mouse, trying to work out how to get a reaction. Or aiming to build a maximum detonation of embarrassment for Gull when he revealed his true profession.
‘Oh, right. I don’t think I know what that means, particularly,’ Gull said.
‘Must be something to do with living in the middle of nowhere,’ Lysander said. ‘Does a lack of sophistication go hand in hand with spending your days knee-deep in mud?’
‘Lysander?’ Clara broke into the conversation, slotting herself between the two men before Gull could retaliate. ‘Come and help me with the wine, would you? Tom wants to serve dinner and you’re holding up proceedings.’
With a final steely glance at Gull, and an indulgent smile for Clara, Lysander allowed himself to be led away.
Tania allowed a tight breath to ease its way through her lips. This evening wasn’t going to be easy.
Chapter 34
With the wine in position on the table, Clara steered Lysander around the table and pulled out a chair.
‘Sit by me, will you?’ she said to him.
Clara had known Tania for a while before she met Lysander. He’d appeared one weekend, on the pretext of viewing one of Tania’s paintings which had made it into a student showing, then proceeded to completely monopolise the situation. There was never any doubt about Lysander’s ability to ‘own a room’, but the problem was he tended to own other people’s rooms, as well as his. Especially when Tania was involved. Word had soon spread that day that Lysander Harrington was on campus. Clara wondered afterwards how many people had even noticed Tania’s painting in the furore.
That kind of behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary, as Clara came to realise in the intervening years.
Clara raised her metaphorical hat at Madeleine, who slid into the chair on Lysander’s left. Hemming him in. Rose settled herself opposite Madeleine, a tight expression on her face. Tania sat opposite Lysander, frowning at him and Gull took the final seat across from Clara. He grinned at her, a tell-tale sideways glance at Lysander hidden admirably with a quick rub of his fingers across his chin.
‘Shall I pour some wine?’ he said.
Tom’s curry was delicious enough to render everyone almost silent as they ate. Or maybe nobody wanted to be the first one to break the quiet. Logs were added to the wood burner, sending sparks of orange heat spiralling up and outwards, hitting against the glass and disappearing. The wind continued to rage outside. From her seat, Clara could just make out the forms of some of the trees outside, bending and flexing and twisting like dancers in a silent disco.
Clara wanted to turn up the volume and hear what they were dancing to.
Eventually, Madeleine broke the quiet. ‘If this storm keeps going,’ she said, ‘what happens about flying home? I’ve got to be back at work on Monday to help repair all the teeth people have managed to break on toffee and nuts. And nougat– you wouldn’t believe the damage that stuff does.’
‘Me too,’ Rose said. ‘Once Christmas is over there’s always a general panic about sorting out tax returns– we’re usually swamped. Not that we can do much about it if the planes aren’t flying, I suppose. I’ll have to do what I can via laptop.’
‘We’ve got to get off the mountain first,’ Gull said. ‘We had a transfer service booked. Will that still run, do you suppose?’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Lysander said. ‘Happy Christmas to you lot, too.’
‘It’s all right for you, Donkey. You don’t have to worry. You just click your fingers, and someone will come running, isn’t that how it works in your world?’ Tania said.
