Well Groomed (69 page)

‘This
is
Lisette, Mother.’ Niall was almost crying with laughter. ‘My first wife. The one you keep telling me I’m still married to in God’s eyes.’

‘And may the Lord forgive us for it!’ Ma’s mouth vanished with disapproval and she went almost purple. Then she gave Lisette a beady look. ‘God can sometimes turn a blind eye, you know. What’s she doing here anyway?’

‘I was invited,’ Lisette said simply. Ma had never been her biggest fan, particularly as Lisette equated pregnancy with fatal illness.

Completely ignoring her, Ma turned to talk to Tash, her voice so loud that it was almost impossible for anyone else to conduct a conversation in the room.

‘I’m going back to stay with my sister in Liverpool tomorrow – she’s having her gall bladder out on Monday, so she thinks she’ll not be well enough to come to the wedding. She’s a terrible hypochondriac, always has been.’ She let out a flurry of coughs. ‘But she’s got you and Niall a wedding present. It’s the most beautiful little cot you’ll ever see.’

Tash gaped at her.

‘Kids!’ Niall raised his glass cheerfully. ‘We can’t wait to have them.’

Begging his help in the kitchen at every opportunity, Zoe was obviously doing all she could to temper his enthusiasm for lying about the wedding, but he was thoroughly in character now and impossible to stop.

For something to do, Tash started wandering around the room filling glasses again, a task she had been performing with increasing randomness all evening – she was so distracted that she kept pouring people the opposite type of wine to the one they’d been drinking. Luckily most of them were now too tight to notice. Rufus was already on his third can of lager and starting to talk too loudly and ogle Lisette, whom he clearly thought awesome.

Lisette, Tash noted, looked predictably ravishing – all cream skin, glossy hair and honed physique, the neat little Hollywood nose tipped towards leathery David in constant, rapt attention, huge eyes drinking him in. She really was a devastating seductress. Tash felt like a St Bernard plodding up to a whippet every time she approached her to re-fill the glasses. She supposed her technique with Hugo had similar parallels; while Lisette slithered and wriggled, coquettish and slinky at the same time, Tash lumped herself down beside Hugo occasionally and panted passively – tongue lolling lovingly, eager to slurp him up. Tonight he was sensibly steering clear, huddled in a corner with Gus and Penny talking about Badminton. She was surprised Stefan hadn’t joined them, but he seemed to be giving Hugo a wide berth, and was consequently falling prey to Sally’s charms as she tried to get Matty’s back up.

‘Your legs are so long, I’m surprised they don’t trail the ground when you’re on horseback,’ she murmured, making a show of measuring Stefan’s legs alongside her own, which involved a great deal of angora fluff being transferred on to his jeans.

‘I usually ride with my leathers very short,’ he explained.

‘Sounds wonderfully kinky,’ Sally giggled. ‘Is that like
Lederhosen
?’

‘No, they’re leather shorts.’ Stefan smiled kindly.

‘I thought that’s what you said.’

Tash noticed when she refilled her brother’s glass that he was looking totally fed up.

She plodded up to the whippet again.

To her amazement, Lisette was being nicer than she ever had been, asking after her horses – and seeming to know the names of an alarming number – apologising for keeping Niall working such long hours, and telling Tash how pleased she was to be arranging a party which was as much to celebrate their wedding as for the wrap of the location shoot.

‘I’m sure Niall must have told you about my little wedding gift?’ She smiled her sexy, wicked smile. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise, but I gather Sally let it slip out this week.’

Tash shrugged rather hopelessly, wondering what on earth she was talking about. She started pouring white wine into leathery David’s still half-full red wine glass. The resultant mix looked revoltingly like fruit cordial.

‘Well, it’s not as though I’m really interested in eventing – although Hugo assures me it’s almost as good as sex and just as messy,’ Lisette was saying airily, glancing around the Moncrieffs’ tatty sitting room which was littered with horse-trials memorabilia. ‘And I thought it would be a rather nice gesture – signing my share of the horse over to you on your wedding.’

‘Y-your share?’ Tash croaked, starting to pour wine all over a chair arm without noticing. Thankfully Ma thrust her glass underneath the deluge.

‘It was all a bit silly, my ending up with it in the first place,’ Lisette laughed, genuinely amused. ‘I don’t think any of us even realised until this year. But it hardly matters now, does it? I’m going to get my solicitor to draw up the papers, so it’s all legal.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ breathed Tash weakly.

‘Too bloody kind!’ David laughed heartily. ‘I don’t think you have any idea what that animal’s worth, Lisette.’

‘Oh, I think I can make a shrewd guess.’ She shot Tash a wink. ‘And, as I’m still officially his half-owner for another fortnight, I’m going to get all the cast and crew of Four Poster Bed rooting for you at Badminton, Tash – we’ll be glued to the box to cheer you on between takes. If you win, I might even demand my first and last owner’s pat.
Cheers!
are very keen to get some pics of him, by the way, did Sally mention? Especially now we know he’s going to be pulling a carriage at the wedding.’

‘It’s a trap,’ Tash muttered.

‘What?’ Lisette gave her a sharp look.

‘He’s going to pull a trap, not a carriage,’ she said.

Christ, Tash thought as she moved away, so that’s it. She owns half of Snob already. And, unless Niall and I get married, she stands to gain the other two legs along with anything else she could sue him for.

She glanced over to where Niall sat slumped in the corner seat beside his mother, who was still booming loudly about what ravishing children he and Tash would have. The smile that was glued on to his face suddenly reminded her of a strip of gaffer tape gagging a hostage.

No wonder he was so desperate to keep things quiet. Tash could suddenly understand why he’d been drinking himself into oblivion and living in character all week. He hadn’t been building himself up to tell her that he was going to have to sell Snob at all. He’d been trying to hide the fact that he’d signed her talented, hot-headed chestnut friend away long before he’d agreed to take on the part in Four Poster Bed. As Snob’s half-owner, Lisette had the legal right to stop Tash ever riding him again. Even if, by some miracle, Niall could get the funds to negotiate his way out of this
Cheers!
deal, she’d retain that right. Whether Niall was sued or not, Tash stood to lose the wilful, spirited horse to whom she owed her career. In all probability, her last ride with him would be at Badminton.

She sat down heavily on the sofa, gripping the wine bottles in each of her hands like a terrified skier clinging on to her sticks as she tackles her first black run.

After a few moments a firm hand prised first one and then the other out of her grasp, which was no mean feat as she was clinging on for dear life. Tash carried on staring fixedly ahead, not caring how freakily she was behaving. Someone sat down beside her on the sofa and asked a question. Tash took no notice.

Then a familiar smell drifted towards her. Breathing a lungful of the lime-sharp aftershave, she only just stopped herself from sighing like a Bisto kid.

She gazed fixedly at a pale patch on the threadbare carpet where one of the dogs had once been sick and India, thinking she was being helpful, had poured bleach on to it. I must not cry, she told herself firmly. I must be cool and collected and noble. I still have nine days left to get through before my world falls apart, after all.

‘Everyone gets scared their first time at Badminton,’ Hugo murmured smoothly.

‘What makes you think I’m nervous?’ she said in what she hoped was a cool, noble, martyred sort of a way.

‘I thought that was why you’re so uptight.’ He looked at her curiously.

‘Oh – yes. It is,’ she murmured, rather appalled that a crisp fragment chose this moment to fly out from between her teeth and land on his wine glass where it stuck fast. It somewhat spoiled the mood of ethereal fragility.

Pretending not to notice, he dropped his voice so that no one could overhear.

‘Tash, are you in some sort of trouble?’

Looking up in alarm, she gazed into his eyes and, finding herself getting hopelessly lost in them, looked hastily away. She supposed there had to be something positive to be gained from knowing one had very little left to lose in life.

‘If I win Badminton this year, will you do something for me?’ she asked.

‘Sure,’ he said warily.

Making sure no one was listening in, Tash felt herself start to colour. ‘Will you kiss me?’

Not waiting for him to answer, she stood up and walked away as quickly and nobly as she could.

IT WAS FAR LATER than planned when they sat down to eat, and, because of the two extra guests at the table – one of whom took up at least two people’s width – they were crammed in like a hen party at a busy restaurant.

The candles, which Rufus had eagerly lit at the beginning of the evening in an excuse to sneak a quick undetected fag, were already guttering, and one of the farm cats had walked across the pale tablecloth leaving a trail of prints which everyone except Ma politely ignored.

‘I ’clare, it’s like being in my own home!’ she boomed delightedly when she saw them. ‘I hope you’re a good cook, Zoe – of course, no one can match me, but I like a good meal.’

Zoe’s cooking was, as ever, something to behold. They fought their way though an anchovy and garlic salad of such strength that Sally’s eyes watered throughout, and David – who had the misfortune to find himself crunching three whole garlic cloves simultaneously – had to be excused from the table to choke them up in the kitchen.

‘Jesus, this is a fine dish!’ Ma helped herself to Tash’s leftovers. ‘Are these crunchy white bits some sort of nut? Break your bread as God intended, Niall, and stop fiddling around with that knife like a murderer.’

Just as Zoe was bringing a whole salmon poached in Pernod and balsamic vinegar to the table, the phone trilled in the next room, its klaxon loudspeaker wailing in unison out in the yard.

Most of the family, eyeing the salmon suspiciously, made to get up and answer it with relief.

‘I’ll get it!’ Gus pulled rank and edged his way hastily out of the room.

‘It’ll be one of India’s boyfriends,’ Zoe groaned. ‘They always call at antisocial hours.’

‘I want a mobile for my eighteenth,’ Rufus grumbled. ‘That way Gus won’t hold the phone away from his mouth and shout: “It’s Jane – is that the one you said was a lousy kisser?” He wrecks my sex life.’

‘What sex life?’ Penny laughed, frantically chewing on the parsley garnish to kill the smell of garlic.

Tash was standing in the kitchen and wondering vaguely whether to carry through the puréed dandelion and swede dauphinoise or the stir-fried asparagus tips with grapes and mung beans. She could hear Gus cursing as he tried to locate the phone under a pile of papers in the next room. Balancing a serving plate along her arm, she listened as he hailed the caller jovially (obviously a friend) before hushing his voice to a serious whisper and starting to talk more urgently.

Just as she was making her way from the kitchen to the dining room with the asparagus tips, he slammed his way out of the study and, almost sending her flying, called for Hugo before bolting back to the phone again.

Not picking up on the urgency of Gus’s voice, Hugo sauntered out of the room just as Tash was picking asparagus tips from her cleavage. He was clearly half-cut.

‘You look like a comely wench at a feast.’ He regarded her with sparkling eyes that danced like fire-flies. ‘Holding your salvers aloft.’

‘Very
Tom Jones
,’ she joked nervously, in imminent danger of dropping her salvers altogether.

‘The Welsh singer?’ He looked confused.

‘I was talking about the book.’ She cleared her throat. ‘All bawdy meals and rolling in haystacks.’

Not saying anything, Hugo gazed at her for a moment, and then smiled.

‘This must be the first year I’ve ever actually hoped I don’t win Badminton,’ he murmured, moving away as Gus demanded that he hurry up.

She stood in the hall for a few seconds, fighting to recover from the all-out nuclear explosion of lust that had just taken place inside her. That was a come-on, she realised. It had to be a come-on – even she knew a come-on when it came at her with the smile Hugo had just given her. It was a smile that was tattooed on her eyeballs. A smile that had made electric currents etch her body and her hair spring up from her scalp. A smile that bore no resemblance to the huge goofy, panting St Bernard one that was plastered to her face when she finally wandered into the dining room, asparagus tips sliding off the platter she was wafting around in comely wench fashion.

‘Ah, you can always spot a girl who’s to be wed soon by the smile on her face, so you can!’ Ma boomed, already making inroads into the salmon with her dessert fork.

Tash was trying to edge a space on the table to put down the serving platter when Gus hurried back in, rubbing his hair and looking agitated.

‘What is it?’ Penny asked in concern.

‘Hugo’s horse Bodybuilder – he’s cast himself in the box and Jenny thinks he’s broken a leg.’

Tash froze, the smile vanishing as though shot from her face.

‘No way!’ Stefan stood up so fast that his plate flew out from the table and knocked over a candlestick. He hastily pushed his way from the room.

‘Listen, Hugo’s talking to Jack Fortescue now, but he’s going to want to get up there pretty quickly and he’s far too pissed to drive,’ Gus said urgently. ‘Who can take him?’