“Have you been away this week?” she asked. “I thought I’d see you helping out, but you never appeared.”
“I was … uh, in Surrey. Staying with a friend.” How could she not know?
It seemed to click as soon as I said that because her eyes went wider than should be humanly possible, and she fumbled to find the words in a garbled apology.
“It’s fine. I’d rather not dwell. On any of it.”
After several more minutes of awkward chit-chat where she deliberately didn’t bring it up again, we parted ways.
Kenny and the cats were delirious to be home and showed that by doing laps of the house at high speed and having a rare spat. Normally, the cats ignored Kenny, and he ignored them. Eisenhower tolerated his presence slightly more, but Roosevelt wouldn’t even acknowledgehim. That is, until I came into the living room in the evening and found the three of them curled up together on the armchair, all looking happy. “Is this anI can’t see you if you can’t see mesituation?” I asked as I backtracked out of the room with three sets of eyes glaring daggers at me.
After separating them all and giving everyone a telling off, I took a long shower to scrub away the drive and the lingering smell of Ollie on my skin. Under the water, though, a new issue occurred as I remembered every touch and squeeze and kiss he’d given me yesterday, and I struggled to convince myself to leave the shower again.
I decided to take Kenny for the longest walk of his life. “Come on,” I said as we made our way out the door. With this attitude I’d definitely be able to convince everyone else and possibly myself that I wasfine.
“How are you, Arden?” they would ask.
“I’mfine,” I would say with almost no hysterical high-pitched inflection. I had chosen a pair of upmarket chinos with tapered legs and my most non-awkward thirty-something dad plimsolls and a lightweight polo shirt for the evening. I instinctively turned right to take the lane down the hill to the village, but looked out over the meadow across the road, which was a yellow haze melding into the light blue of the sky. It was another fine day, and I breathed in deeply. I took a step, and instead we walked across the lane and into the field, taking the path down the hill to where it met the pond around the back of the Fox and Lamprey. The place I had found Arabella’s body.
The evening was extremely warm, and this way Kenny could run as I held my head up to meet the sun, instead of watching for cars. I felt almost relieved as the heat coursed through my body. Yes, sun, come fix all my problems. Soon – too soon – I was at the bottom, feeling very self-congratulatory for my feat – and determinedlylooked at the pond as I walked past it, taking in its details. See, no corpses there today. There were voices, from the pub’s beer garden several metres away, of happy families and couples enjoying a Friday night in the hottest summer of a generation. Not a care in the world. For once, I wasn’t even jealous.
I don’t know why my mood was improving – maybe it felt good to be home? Maybe it was that despite the crisis, everyone I knew and cared for had acted impeccably and with my best interests at heart. Nigella had been an angel, Verity my stalwart, Ollie my … unexpected protector, and my trusty steed, Kenny, still thought I was God’s gift.
We walked further, trailing around the village before coming home an hour later.
That night I slept like a baby. I knew I’d pay for it later, but right now it was a joy.
On Saturday, I got up and worked for a few hours, then I took Kenny running before the heat built too much.
I dozed in the garden in the afternoon, and before I knew what had happened to the day, it was time to go to Honningtons.
There was a missed call from Verity when I got out of the shower, but I didn’t have time to ring her back. She could wait until later.
My phone buzzed again as I made my way down the alley between the pub and the next house to the high street. Ollie’s name flashed. I declined the call. I wasn’t in the mood for any emotionally taxing conversations right now. Verity had called a second time, I noticed.
No, would deal with that later. I’d get through what was going to happen with Guy and then we could go into whatever else had cropped up.
I made my way to Nigella’s to find her standing on the doorstep with one of her neighbours. “Arden, there you are! You remember Betty from the tea shop? She’swatching the boys for me tonight.” She spoke up much louder as she addressed the woman. “Which is so nice of her! Thank you, Betty. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
She waved and made her way down the path and took my arm. “Deaf as a post, but the boys are terrified of her, so it’s a win in my books.”
“Is Matteo meeting us there then?” I asked, puzzled as to why they needed a babysitter.
Her hand on my arm tensed. “No, he’s back in Milan.”
“Wasn’t he—”
“Emergency. Couldn’t be helped.” She began to walk quicker. “Anyway, glad to see you back.”
My phone buzzed again. “Sorry, I’ll switch it off, I’m popular for some reason tonight.”
She laughed. “Come, the back path is this way, you can fill me in on your week as we walk.”
We skirted around the north side of the village and found ourselves in a line of trees that opened to a field. We walked through these, then past some farm buildings before we doubled back on ourselves via another set of trees. We hopped a stile and in front of us was the grounds of Honningtons. The back of the house was to the right, and we made our way slowly to the impressive terraces that ran along its rear.
Ewa, Lady F’s housekeeper, greeted us. She was standing on the terrace holding a tray of elderflower pressé. “Czesc, Ewa.” I leaned forward to kiss her cheek.
She gave a smile. “You look well,” she said in English, conscious of Nigella. “You’re the last to arrive; they’re in the Red Room.”
