Aria picked up the dishes and moved to the island to bring the main course together. She took the plates out of the oven where they’d been warming as they moved on to discuss Nic’s long-term plans for his Lakeland development. He threw her an appreciative glance as she chipped in, before announcing there was an exciting part he hadn’t even told her about yet. ‘I’m proposing a zone for swimming only, accessed through the marina. And I’m thinking of banning jet skiing.’
Aria artfully arranged vegetables on each plate along with the beef and mashed celeriac, nodding her approval. ‘You won’t believe how badly people behave when they have one of those machines between their thighs,’ she said. ‘I was having a swim a few weeks ago and some bellend jumped on one and started weaving around the lake like a maniac.’
‘We all behave a little wildly with the right machine between our thighs,’ said Donna, winking.
As the full horror of that suggestion dawned on her, Aria blushed. She walked to the table with two of the plates and placed one in front of Donna while continuing with her complaint. ‘The guy almost killed himself and I swear, if I’d been further out, there would have been blood in the water.’
As Donna picked up her cutlery and slathered at the food, Nic knocked over his wine glass. Aria frowned. Ruining a perfect dinner table was her party trick, not his.
‘The plate was too hot,’ he said, sounding angry as he jumped up to grab a cloth. Aria collected her food from the island and checked the temperature of her own plate. Far from scalding. As Nic fussed around soaking up the liquid, Donna speared the tender meat and knocked back another glass of wine.
‘Ooh, I love good vino. This whole dinner is chef’s kiss!’ As she brought her fingers to her mouth, Aria realised something about the night she’d moved into the hut. The man on the jet ski had come from the boardwalk not far from Nic’s house. He’d been tall and well-built with dark hair. Come to think of it, he’d looked like Nic.A whole lot like him, actually.
36
Donna left, pouring herself into a cab, claiming dessert had made her a bit squiffy.
‘Nothing to do with the cheap plonk she demolished,’ Nic commented as they waved her off. He suggested they toast her departure with a decent wine, uncorking one from his rack and pouring a glass for them both.
‘Wasn’t she awful?’ he said, handing one to her. ‘Worse than the anal planner I met for lunch that time.’
‘An anal planner sounds like a terrible job,’ said Aria seriously. ‘Almost as bad as a pheasant plucker.’ Plonking herself on the sofa, she started to chant. ‘She was not a pheasant plucker with a pheasant plucker’s son, she was a fucker of a peasant with a daughter…’ Aria cheers-ed him with her glass before collapsing in giggles on the sofa. ‘UP YOUR BUM!’
‘Oh my God, another drunk female? Please be careful. I don’t want to have to dry clean the sofa.’
‘Imagine trying to get this couch into the dryer?’ She waggled her finger at Nic as Tiger woke from his slumber, settling again when he established there was no more food on offer.
‘I guess it was my fault for choosing a white sofa, which the dog should most definitely not be sleeping on.’ Nic smiled.
‘You admitted you made a mistake!’ she shrieked, rather unfairly he thought as he was the first to hold up his hands and confess to any faults. ‘Actually,’ she hiccupped. ‘You’re not nearly as pompous as I thought you were when we first met, but you still don’t admit when you’re wrong.’
He replied with an indignant, ‘I do!’
‘No, you don’t. We’ve shared so much the last few days, and I’ve told you about one indiscretion after another while you make out you’re perfect.’
‘No one is perfect,’ he said stiffly, and sipped his wine.
‘It was you on the jet ski,’ she said.
His stomach lurched. Theo’s accident had been in the press at the time.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘I realise that wine was truly disgusting, and we all—’
‘How do you know?’ he mumbled, barely able to hear his own words for the rushing sound in his ears.
‘What?’
‘How do you know…about the jet ski?’
‘I saw you. Only just put two and two together.’
He looked at her, shocked. ‘You were there?’
‘Yes, the night I came back home. I told you before. But I didn’t realise it was you till now.’
‘Home?’ Nic queried, his heart still banging in his chest.
‘Well, the hut. Let’s not pretend I wasn’t living there.’
