“Hey!”
Rats. Julian Trebarwen had caught her in the act.
“Sorry,” Serena climbed down on her side of the fence. “Was just walking to pick Katie up from school. I used to take a shortcut through here when your mother was alive, but … I’ll take the car.”
“It’s okay. You can walk through here if you want to,” said Julian. “I was just coming over to give you a hand. Thought you might get stuck on the gate and rip your jeans or something.”
Serena blushed as she pushed her hair out of her face. Of course she was wearing her very worst jeans again. The ones that had been “decorating jeans” back when she and Tom had still been playing happy family and experimenting with National Trust tester pots in what would become Katie’s room. The jeans were covered in paint splotches and worse. Why was it you never noticed you’d gotten egg yolk on yourself until you were in company?
“Need a hand?” Julian asked, reaching out for her.
Serena nodded. “Thank you.” He helped her over the gate.
“Which way is school?” he asked.
“Over there.” Serena waved toward the village, thinking it odd that Julian didn’t know where the village school was, before she remembered that he and his brother had been sent to boarding school at the age of five.
“Mind if I walk with you?”
Serena tried not to think about the egg yolk as she and Julian skirted the edge of the garden.
“I suppose I should think about getting someone in to deal with all this,” said Julian, waving his hand at the flower beds.
“I don’t imagine you’ve had much time to think about anything,” said Serena kindly. “It must be so hard for you to take in. I know what it’s like when one of your parents dies.”
Julian agreed. “Yes. I have been rather shocked by how much I miss the old bag. When she was alive, I could just about manage three hours in her company without incurring her wrath in some way or other. I couldn’t wait to be back on the motorway to London. But now … What was that old song? You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone?”
“Families are difficult,” said Serena. “I’m sure she knew that you loved her, and I know she loved you very much in return.” That much had come through, even when Louisa had been expressing her disappointment.
“Well, it’s certainly strange to be here in the house without her.”
“How long are you here for?” Serena asked.
“At least a week,” he said.
Serena found she was pleased to hear that.
“Got a couple of people from Ludbrook’s, the auctioneers, coming down tomorrow to take a look at the stuff in the house. See if there’s anything worth putting up for sale.”
Serena was surprised. “It’s quite early to be making a decision like that, isn’t it? I mean, you might inadvertently sell something that you’ll regret losing in years to come.”
“I don’t think so,” said Julian quite firmly. “It’s not as though we’re talking about family heirlooms. It’s all crap. My mother got most of it at yard sales.”
“You’re joking.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. Neither my brother nor I want any of it. You’ve got to keep moving forward, don’t you think? If you don’t move forward, you die. Like a shark.”
They’d come to the other side of the surrounding wall. Serena didn’t know if Julian intended to walk any farther. She stopped and studied his profile as he looked
into the next field with an expression of contemplation. She had the sense that all that talk about yard sales and moving forward was just bravado. Here was a man who had lost his mother. In his face she could see the little boy he had once been. He was charmingly vulnerable.
“I should get a move on,” said Serena. “Katie will give me hell if I’m not there when the bell goes.”
“Okay.”
Julian gave her some help getting over the next wall.
“Perhaps you’d like to come to dinner again one night this week,” Serena suggested. “I mean, if you’re not busy.”
“Tonight?” Julian suggested at once.
“Well, okay. But it’ll have to be spaghetti.”
“My favorite.”
Serena walked the rest of the way to school with a slight skip in her step. Had she just made a date?
The food may have been basic (no time to go to the supermarket), but supper was great fun. Julian garnered many brownie points with Katie by bringing across the rocking horse she had missed so much. He got brownie points from Serena by bringing a nice bottle of red.
The next day Serena found herself back inside Trebarwen for the first time since the funeral. Julian had asked her, very nicely indeed and with the promise of a fish supper at the village’s one and only restaurant, if she might be kind enough to sort through his mother’s most personal effects. Serena agreed happily. And though it wasn’t exactly a happy task to go through Louisa’s dusty wardrobe and pick out those items that should be binned and those that should go to a charity shop, Serena was glad to be in the company of adults for a while.
The team from Ludbrook’s arrived at lunchtime. Serena was surprised to see that the venerable auction house
had sent such a young woman down, but Lizzy Duffy, as she was called, seemed to know what she was talking about. When Julian introduced Serena and explained that she was sorting through the wardrobe, Lizzy’s response was instant.
“If you don’t mind,” she said, “I’d like to look at anything with a big label on it. We have a designer vintage clothing sale every three months at Ludbrook’s.”
“My mother dressed like a hobo,” said Julian. Serena shot Julian a glance.
“Mrs. Trebarwen was very elegant. I have found a couple of dresses by Chanel,” she confirmed. “Could be 1960s.”
“Wonderful,” said Lizzy.
Along with Lizzy and her squinting assistant, Marcus, came a photographer with his own assistant. Lizzy explained that some of the larger items of furniture were to be photographed in situ. It had become a popular way to display items to their best effect.
Over the course of the next two days, the catalog shoot was executed with as much precision as a cover shoot for a glossy magazine. The photographer and his assistant dressed each “set” with incredible care. Meanwhile, Lizzy studied the Polaroids to be certain that all the details she required for the catalog were easily visible.
Serena found herself envying the young woman. She had her entire life before her. She was beautiful and obviously intelligent. She had a responsible, interesting job. Lizzy reminded Serena of the way she herself had once been, before marriage and Katie and divorce.
“I studied art too,” Serena felt she had to tell her. She wanted to make clear that she wasn’t just some local yokel stay-at-home mum but an equal. “Painting. At Chelsea. I
did a year in Florence studying the techniques of old masters after I graduated.”
“Lucky you. I would have loved to study art. My parents were dead set against that. Thought it would just leave me unemployable. Closest I got was art history.”
“It’s never too late to pick up a paintbrush,” said Serena, echoing the encouragement that Louisa had given her.
“I think I’ll just stick to selling art,” said Lizzy with a shrug.
Lizzy was very pleased indeed with the way the photographs for the catalog turned out. She felt sure that Nat would be impressed. She was feeling much more relaxed about having left him alone with Sarah Jane since hearing that Sarah Jane had gone home sick that afternoon. She in turn let Nat know that Julian Trebarwen wasn’t the dangerous cad that Nat had described at all. Far from it. There had been no midnight creeping along the corridors to the guest rooms. He hadn’t addressed a single inappropriate comment in Lizzy’s direction. She guessed that was because he was trying to impress his mother’s neighbor; Julian had eyes only for Serena. By the time Lizzy and Marcus had finished in the house, the sexual tension between Julian and Serena was palpable.
“Do you think he’ll get laid?” Marcus asked Lizzy as the cab pulled out of Trebarwen’s grand driveway to take them to the station. Neither of them was looking forward to the train ride.
“What kind of question is that?” Lizzy asked, pausing for hardly any time at all before she added, “Yes, I think he will.”
“Serena, I’m so grateful for your help these past few days,” said Julian. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
They hadn’t gone out to dinner. Serena had reckoned without the difficulty of finding a babysitter in deepest, darkest Cornwall. And so Julian had fetched the fish and chips and brought them with him to Serena’s house, where they ate them at the kitchen table by the light of a candle in an empty wine bottle.
Katie had been persuaded to go to bed early. Serena had allowed her to have the portable DVD player (a bribe from Tom to make up for another weekend missed) in her room. Katie was delighted. The prospect of snuggling beneath the duvet with a pile of Disney films was infinitely preferable to joining her mother and her guest downstairs.
Julian brought with him a bottle of Saint Emilion. Cheval Blanc.
“Oh my goodness,” said Serena. “Are you sure? With fish and chips?”
“If you don’t think it’s a good match, I can run back out to the Spar and get a bottle of Lambrusco.”
“No,” said Serena. “I mean, this is fantastic. Thank you.”
“Lots more where it came from. My mother had crates of the stuff. Not keeping it properly, of course.”
And indeed, that particular bottle was horribly oxidized.
“Damn,” said Julian. “I’ll just have to sell the rest,” he added with a wink. “Or shall we try one more?”
“No. There’s no need.” Serena brought out a bottle of Chianti, which was perfect.
Julian Trebarwen was turning out to be such an interesting guy. He was amusing company and passably good-looking. Better-looking with every sip of wine Serena took. Halfway through dessert—tiramisu—Serena decided that if he tried to kiss her again that night, she
would let him. In fact, she told herself, it might well be time for her first postseparation shag.
She’d been thinking about sex a great deal lately. Its resurgence in her thoughts was as surprising, yet as inevitable, as the first shoots of spring breaking through the frozen ground. When Tom left her, Serena’s libido went into hibernation. Her whole energy became focused on her daughter: keeping her happy, finding somewhere new to live, and ensuring that Katie got through the separation and subsequent divorce without being scarred for life. Serena’s mental state had been reflected in her outward appearance: her daily costume of jeans and T-shirt and the fact that she hadn’t bothered to have her hair cut for months. Her makeup bag gathered dust. Everything about her screamed “leave me alone.” She hadn’t dared let her thoughts wander toward the carnal. Until Julian Trebarwen walked into her life.
The first time he had flirted with her could have been put down to grief and confusion after Louisa’s death, but he had come back. Could it really be that he just enjoyed her cooking? Over the past few days, she’d caught him looking at her a couple of times when he’d thought she hadn’t noticed. Back in the old days, before Tom had smashed her confidence, she would have interpreted looks like those as lust at the very least.
While Julian was drinking coffee, Serena slipped upstairs to tell Katie that it was time for bed. She found her daughter already asleep,
Cinderella
still playing on the tiny screen. Serena turned off the DVD player and pulled up the duvet to cover Katie’s shoulders. Halfway down the stairs, she paused and ran back up again. This time she went into her own room. At the bottom of her underwear drawer was a set of lingerie she had never worn. She’d bought it the day after Tom had announced that he had fallen in love with Donna, hoping and praying that the
two tiny strips of silk might bring him back to her. It hadn’t worked. In fact, she hadn’t even had a chance to try. The panties and bra had remained in her lingerie drawer ever since, a pretty reminder of a very ugly new reality.
But maybe Serena’s luck was about to change. Maybe fate hadn’t ever had Tom in mind when Serena had stood in the changing room at La Perla, her eyes red from crying and her stomach flat, for once, from throwing up. Maybe this lingerie had always been meant to be seen by someone else.
Serena quickly pulled off her jeans and her sweater and replaced her rather more quotidian underwear with the Italian scanties. To her delight, a glance in the mirror showed a reflection that looked far better than the sad girl she’d been in the store changing room. All those months in Cornwall, all the walking to and from school and along the beach on weekends, had really paid off. Serena looked fit. She was pale, sure, but Julian wouldn’t be expecting a supermodel.
With her jeans and sweater back in place, she wandered back downstairs. She felt naughty and wondered if it showed.
“What took you so long?” asked Julian, patting the empty space on the sofa beside him.
“Oh, you know what it’s like. Katie asked me to read a story, and then she wanted another one …”
“Of course.” Julian nodded. “I shouldn’t be jealous of a six-year-old girl, but I am. She deprived me of your company.”
Serena felt a flutter of delight in her chest. This was all so utterly wonderful. For once, for just a moment, bitter angry thoughts of Tom and his horrible new woman were the farthest thing from her mind. Serena found she
was trembling as she brought her coffee cup to her mouth.
“Something a little stronger, perhaps?” she suggested. She thought she might have some cooking brandy somewhere.
“Not for me,” said Julian. He was gazing—that was the word for it, “gazing”—at Serena’s face now, and he reached out one big hand to push a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t want anything to cloud my vision.”
“Okay,” said Serena.
“You are quite exquisitely beautiful,” he said.
Serena could hardly speak. She nodded her thanks.
“I have wanted to kiss you since I first saw you,” Julian continued. “But you know that, and … of course …” He let his hand drop. “I understand that it still might not be the right time for you.”
“Oh. No, no, no,” Serena protested. “I mean. It’s fine. I’d like that now. I think.”
Julian smiled. “I’m very glad to hear it.”