I push the thoughts away. There’s nothing for it now but to wait to see how things play out.
“Like I said, you’ll have to speak to him.”
Like a dog with a bone, she’s not ready to give up. But as she opens her mouth to reply, it’s as far as she gets.
“Here we are!” Polly waltzes into the room, carrying a dish of something fragrant between her oven-gloved hands. “Pudding!”
Primrose follows, silently passing out delicate porcelain bowls.
“It smells delicious.” Cardamom, delicate spices, and pistachios. She sets the dish on the table.
“Mum’s food is always amazing,” Lavender says, looking eagerly at dessert.
They don’t know how lucky they are. Family to break bread with and an abundance of food are rare blessings for some people.
“Hope you have a chef.” I glance Brin’s way to find his gaze mocking. He sets a jug of cream next to the dish. “Your new wife can barely boil an egg.”
He seems far too entertained by that thought.
“The 1950s called,” Lavender mutters, reaching for the serving spoon. “They want their attitudes back.”
“I didn’t marry your sister for her cooking skills.” Our eyes lock as I place my hand over Lavender’s.
His lips thin and his gaze narrows because he knows exactly why I chose Lavender.If not why I married her.And now, as I stroke her hand, he’s remembering that married couples also fuck.
Usually.
“Lavender can cook,” Polly interjects, swatting Brin with her oven gloves. “Her repertoire might be small, but at least she doesn’t burn water.”
“You’ve already fed us so well, Polly. The whole meal has been outstanding.”
“Don’t tell me you have no room for pudding,” she says, meaning pudding as a general term for dessert and not the shit that comes in a pudding cup. She turns a fond expression Lavender’s way. “Take a leaf out of Lavender’s book.”
“Yep, eat well when you can,” she says, dishing a creamy spoonful into my bowl. “I’m too busy to cook.”
“I mean, when you were a little girl. I remember how you used to say your vegetable tummy might be full, but your pudding tummy still had space.”
“That sounds familiar,” I reply with a sudden smile.
“Oh, she told you!” Polly looks charmed.
I glance Lavender’s way to find her looking at me as though I’ve grown another head. Fuck. I could bite my tongue off. This is a monumental fuckup. I hadn’t meant for it to come out like this. I should’ve said—should’ve told her in Gibraltar. Instead,Lavender is about to hear this for the first time in front of an audience.
“No.” I sit straighter in my chair and drop my hand under the table to give a warning squeeze to her thigh. “It’s actually something Daisy, my… little girl, is fond of saying.”
17
RAIF
“Lunch was… pleasant.”
Small talk? I must be going soft. Can it be that I prefer Lavender’s attitude to the silent treatment? At least I’d decided to drive from the airport myself. It gives me something else to focus on.
I glance her way when she doesn’t answer, and she holds up her hand, the gesture softer thandon’t talk to me. I let several beats pass as she continues to stare out the car window.
“I’m notnottalking to you,” she says eventually.
My little girl. Why the hell did I frame it like that? Well, other than because that’s what she’s become to me. But it was sloppy. At best. At worst, a monumental fuckup.
