‘Let me take the bowl,’ she said, and Gulliver passed it to her from where he had balanced it on his lap while he washed his hands.
She threw the pink-tinged water down the sink and, after rinsing it thoroughly, placed the bowl in the dishwasher, returning to the living room and sitting in the armchair opposite Gulliver. He clasped one of the mugs, staring at the golden-brown liquid as though it might provide solace or answers. She picked up her mug and sipped her tea.
‘We weren’t expecting you until later tonight,’ she said.
‘I caught an earlier flight.’
‘Edith will be delighted to see you,’ replied Tabitha. ‘So will your mother.’
Tabitha halted, staring into her drink, unsure where to take the conversation next.
When she had moved to Cerensthorpe Abbey, her friendship with Gulliver had been instant, but within a month, he and his wife Lucia had moved to Rome. The easy camaraderie between Tabitha and Gulliver had continued whenever they had spoken online concerning her work in the house, but despite his easy-going nature, she had always felt she should hold him slightly at arm’s length. Gulliver was the heir to Cerensthorpe Abbey, and she was an employee. One day, she might be working for him, rather than Edith, as such she was determined to keep a level of professionalism within their relationship.
Despite him turning to her for assistance, to delve further into Gulliver’s private life felt like an intrusion. With another sip, she allowed the hot liquid to soothe her and decided to leave it to him to confide in her, rather than plying him with questions, no matter how gentle or well meant.
After a stretch of silence, Gulliver spoke, his voice cold. ‘Auntie Edie will be delighted when I tell her Lucia and I have separated.’
‘You’ve separated?’ said Tabitha in surprise.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Less than two years and my marriage is over.’
‘It’s none of my—’ she began, but he interrupted.
‘You’ll find out anyway, so you might as well hear the truth from me. Throughout our relationship and marriage, Lucia has been seeing another man. He’s older than her and, until recently, was married. However, he’s now a widower. He’s clicked his fingers and Lucia has run into his waiting arms and his palazzo in the Tuscan countryside.’
‘No,’ she said, staring at Gulliver in horror.
‘Yes,’ said Gulliver. ‘Funnily enough, Auntie Edie was always wary of Lucia, she once told me she thought there was unfinished business in her past. When I told Auntie I was planning to propose, she asked,“Is her heart free to marry yours?”and I laughed, thinking Auntie Edie was being a fussy, superstitious old lady. Auntie’s very astute, especially about other people’s feelings and what they’re concealing. I should have listened to her.’
Gulliver placed his mug on the occasional table beside him and stretched out his hands; small flecks of blood clung to his fingernails, and he grimaced.
‘Do you have a nail brush I could borrow?’ he asked, and Tabitha nodded, waving him towards the stairs.
‘In the bathroom, help yourself,’ she said. ‘Are you planning to go up to the abbey this evening or to your mother?’
‘Both,’ he said, ‘and I’m sorry for landing on your doorstep in such a state.’
‘Any time,’ she replied as she gathered their mugs.
‘You were the one person I knew who wouldn’t panic at my appearance.’
He smiled, but it was a weak imitation of his usual expression.
‘I’ll tidy myself up, then go and break the news.’
Tabitha watched him disappear up the stairs, then heard the click of the lock on the bathroom. Her heart broke for Gulliver, she understood the betrayal of lies.
She walked into the kitchen and loaded the mugs into the dishwasher, wondering about Gulliver’s comment that his aunt would be ‘delighted’. She had never picked up on any genuine animosity between the women: the occasional snipe but nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps Gulliver was mistaken and had misinterpreted Edith’s comments.
‘None of my business,’ she murmured to herself, reaching for her phone to message Tamar and assure her all was calm.
She pressed send as Gulliver returned. He remained ashen, but the frailty that had engulfed him as he had sat sobbing was gone.
‘Thank you, Tabs,’ he said, running his hand through his black hair and giving her a grateful smile. ‘The day you answered the advert to come and work here was a good one for us all. I feel as though there’s a grown-up in charge when you’re around.’
‘Thanks, I think,’ she replied.
‘At least I can rely on you,’ he said, and with a brief smile, he scooped up his bag from where he had dropped it in the hallway when she had steered him inside and left, slamming the door behind him.
