‘Didn’t expect to find you here.’ Clarissa’s eyes glittered above a wine-bright smile. ‘We’ve been to the Fig Leaf — Robina asked after you, by the way. She seems to think you’re avoiding her.’
‘I am,’ he said, frankly.
Clarissa pshawed. ‘You’re not still paranoid about her, are you? Anyway, I need to talk to Honor, so I thought I’d call.’
‘Funny time of night to call on your tenant,’ he observed. He cursed himself for leaving his X5 standing in the drive like a big, fat tell tale. That probably had been what dragged them in, merry-eyed and bursting with curiosity.Didn’t expect to find you here, like hell.
Clarissa’s eyebrows rose in the way they did whenever anyone was presumptuous enough to call her actions into question. ‘In fact, I rang the bell on the way to the pub, but Honor wasn’t here. You were out together, were you?’
Martyn simply lifted his eyebrows to give her back her own astonishment at being questioned.
Honor interrupted. ‘Well, now, I know Clarissa and DrZoë, but . . . ?’
Clarissa abandoned Martyn and showed him how sweetly reasonable she could be to anybody else. ‘The rest of the Mayfairs, my sisters Beverley and Nicola. I’m sorry if we’re imposing, Honor. We didn’t mean to interrupt.’
‘No, we didn’t mean to interrupt.’ Nicola, Beverley and Zoë threw meaningful grins at Martyn. He tried to frown them down but that just made them snuffle with giggles as they exchanged nudges. It was an incredibly maddening way for grown women to behave.
‘You’re not interrupting a thing,’ said Honor, calmly. ‘Suppose I make a pot of coffee, and then you can tell me whatever it is you want to tell me.’ She pulled out one of the two remaining kitchen chairs and glanced first at Martyn and then at the chair.
Martyn sighed and took the seat. At the end of the table. Which meant all four of his sisters could smirk and twinkle at him. ‘Looks to me like coffee’s exactly what you lot need,’ he grumbled.
‘So we’ve turned up at the right time.’ Nicola looked pleased, her habitual expression, maybe because she spent so much time delivering bouncing babies.
‘Probably, we need two cups,’ agreed Beverley. Beverley was one of the most agreeable people he knew, at the opposite end of the spectrum to Clarissa.
‘It’s actually a fallacy that coffee helps sober you up.’ Zoë assumed doctorly mode. ‘It makes you feel a bit more awake, which is what fools you into thinking you’re becoming sober. You have to give your liver time to eliminate the toxins and there’s no way of speeding up the process. A pint of water helps with hydration, i.e. the hangover.’
‘Would you prefer a pint of water?’ Honor paused in pouring coffee into cups.
Zoë looked horrified. ‘No, I’d like coffee, please. I’m not drunk so I won’t be hungover.’
‘That’s good.’ Honor put sugar and milk in the centre of the table, flicking a glance at Martyn that shone with silent laughter:They look pretty drunk to me . . .
He smiled back conspiratorially, enjoying the way her ponytail wagged behind her as she turned back to her task. The smile flipped to a scowl when he saw all four of his sisters were regarding him with knowing grins. Then, as Clarissa talked to Honor about getting the garden tidied up and Honor confessed that she wasn’t used to gardening, Nicola, Beverley and Zoë began to yawn between sips of coffee, and Martyn sighed as realisation dawned that he was going to end his night by delivering sleepy female Mayfairs to various addresses around Saltdean and Eastingdean. Why hadn’t he left the X5 in the car park behind Starboard Walk and walked Honor home?
The yawns increased in size and frequency as the coffee cups emptied. Clarissa continued to monopolise Honor with trulytrivial tenant/landlord crapola, so he rose, resignedly, to his feet. ‘Shall I drop you lot off?’
‘Lovely!’ Amidst scraping of chairs and thankful noises, Nicola, Beverley and Zoë clambered to their feet. Clarissa followed, but she was never big on thanking him for merely doing what she considered he ought to. Instead, she demanded, ‘Why the rush? Working tomorrow?’
‘Yes, actually. Doing a shoot in Arundel for DownJo Jeans.’ He was pleased to be able to spike her guns before she could fire off a list of jobs he could do to help people in the family who worked ‘proper hours’. Like her.
Honor chipped in before Clarissa could arm her next salvo. ‘Arundel! I plan to go on the train to Arundel soon to see the castle. I love how the way you guys in England have castles and palaces right in the towns.’
Martyn held the kitchen door for Clarissa. But, instead of walking through it, she said, ‘Martyn can take you with him, tomorrow. He can take you on his shoot and then there will be time afterwards to look around the castle.’
‘Oh!’ Honor’s eyes lit up. Then she looked into his face and instantly rearranged her expression. ‘No, I couldn’t possibly impose that way.’
Clarissa talked her down. ‘There’s no point you going on the train when Martyn has his big, shiny car and is going to the same place. Eh, Martyn?’
He jumped on his irritation and wrestled it into submission, giving Honor his sweetest smile. ‘It’s only a small shoot so I’d love it if you’d like to watch, if you don’t mind hovering in the background. Then we can look around Arundel when I’m done.’
‘Really?’ Light flew back into Honor’s eyes. ‘That would be great.’
Clarissa bounced back in expectantly. ‘I’d love to watch a shoot, too.’
Martyn let his eyebrows speak his incredulity. ‘Nobody takes their mother on a shoot. Nothing could be uncooler.’
A crackling silence. Clarissa dropped her gaze and strode across the hall. He let the other Mayfair women cover Clarissa’s silence by babbling to Honor about joining their Zumba class in the community hall. ‘Clarissa’s the instructor and it’s really fun! And the class needs people or it’ll close.’
