A Bitter Feast by Deborah Crombie

Author:Deborah Crombie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

“You look much better this morning,” said Gemma as she and Kincaid stood at the end of the pergola, looking down on the lawns and gardens spread below them.

“Even with the shiner?” He touched a fingertip to his cheekbone, tentatively.

“It’s not too bad. You could do the dissolute rock star thing and wear sunglasses to cover it up.”

“Our friend Andy might not appreciate the ‘dissolute rock star’ description,” Kincaid said with a grin.

Gemma squeezed his arm. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

A gust of breeze sent a flurry of pink rose petals swirling down upon them. “Look, Mummy,” called Charlotte, who had been skipping back and forth on the gravel path, singing to herself. “It’s con-fitti.”

“Confetti,” Gemma corrected absently, still admiring the view. The rain had given everything a new-minted brightness and the air seemed suddenly ripe with autumn. The trees across the river seemed to have been brushed with gold and russet just since yesterday.

Toby and Kit had found a football somewhere and were kicking it about on the bottom lawn, watched by the two dogs, who looked like referees on the sidelines.

Squatting, Charlotte began gathering the petals. “I’m going to make you a present, Mummy. You can take it home.” It was the first time they’d taken Charlotte to stay with strangers and she’d done remarkably well. Perhaps her separation anxiety was abating.

Gemma bent down to examine the petals filling Charlotte’s small hand. “That’s lovely, darling. We can make a sachet. But we’ll need something to put your petals in.” Fishing in her jacket pocket, she found a clean tissue. “How about this? We can wrap them up.”

Kincaid had moved to the edge of the terrace. He stood, his hands in his trouser pockets, his gaze abstracted.

Going to him, Gemma said softly, “It is lovely here, isn’t it? I didn’t think I’d like it quite so much.”

“You’d better not get too accustomed to the lap of luxury,” he teased.

“It’s not that—although I have to admit it is nice. It’s just that I didn’t expect the place to be so . . . I don’t know. Relaxed, maybe. I will be glad to get home, though.”

They’d decided at breakfast that Kincaid would stay another day to deal with any issues that might arise with the car insurance, and that Melody would run Gemma and the children to the train after Sunday lunch. Melody and Doug would drive back later in the afternoon in Melody’s car. The Talbots had planned to stay another few days and had assured Kincaid that he was welcome.

“Ivan wants to take me to look at a car in the morning,” Kincaid said now. “He says he has a friend who can make me a really good deal.”

“Not on anything we can afford, if he’s in Ivan’s league.” Gemma was horrified at the idea. “And we don’t know yet what the insurance will pay on the Astra—”

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything rash. But it only seemed polite to accept the offer. And we are going to need a car as soon as possible.

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