I smiled, remembering Jack's eyes glinting in the light of the tummy b.u.t.ton stone. 'Oh, I don't suppose he minds.'

'Well, of course he doesn't! Right up his alleyway, that little minx. But what about you, Lucy?' She looked anxious. 'Did you meet anyone nice? Simon Firmly-Williams, for instance?' she added hopefully.

Ah yes, the handsome rectory.

'Well, I certainly saw him, Rose, Lavinia pointed him out, and he looked awfully nice, but you know, there were so many people there, and it is quite hard to get around. To have a proper chat at a drinks party . .

'Yes, yes,' she agreed, 'terribly difficult. Maybe I'll have a dinner party next time,' she mused. 'Much more intimate. Be a bit more select. Then you can meet people properly.'

'That would be lovely,' I said faintly.

'But meanwhile,' she said, clasping her hands together firmly, 'what I actually came to say is that you can't possibly all squeeze in here tonight, when we have so much room up at the house. Where were you all planning to sleep, for heaven's sake?'

'Jess and I were going to share, and Teresa and Rozanna-'

'No no, I won't hear of it! Ah, here's Ted. She turned. 'He's come to take the bags back. Ted! Come. Quickly now.' She beckoned him on impatiently as, mute and resentful, he shuffled obediently up the hill towards us. 'Now, Jess.' Rose turned to her purposefully. 'Why don't you come back?'

'Oh but Rose, we're perfectly happy,' I objected. 'We like being together.'

'Don't be silly, all hugger-mugger, Lucy? When there's bags of room up at Netherby? You don't want to share double beds, surely?'

She regarded me in horror, as if perhaps I were an unhygienic lesbian or something. Teresa stifled a giggle beside me. I blushed.

'Well, no, but-'

'No, exactly. I thought not. Now, Ted. Kindly go and get Lady Rozanna's bag from upstairs please, she'll show you where, and Jess, where are your things?'

'My G.o.d, she really has looked me up,' muttered Rozanna, as she filed past me to beat Ted to her belongings.

'And I, of course, will stay here with my son,' smiled Teresa firmly.

Rose looked at her as if she were something nasty that had crawled out of the wood shed. 'Yes, yes of course. I suppose that does make sense. You brought a friend for Ben, didn't you?' she said, as if that had been Teresa's sole function. 'So. You can stay here, and Jess and Rozanna can come back to Netherby and have their own bedrooms. We have got some guests from the party staying, but there's plenty of room. So. That's much better. Right. Everyone got their bags? Come along then, my party. Rozanna, can you manage?'

Rozanna, carrying the tiniest of handbags, shot me a hysterical look as she came out of the barn, whilst Jess, emerging with her canvas sack over her shoulder, shot me one of horror. I shrugged helplessly back. Rose was already making her way down the hill, with Ted carrying Rozanna's case. Jess and Rozanna hesitated.

'Must we?' muttered Jess.

'I think it might be politic,' I muttered back.

'Ah. And it's as well to be politic, is it?'

This was Jess's parting shot, together with raised eyebrows, and although I grinned, I have to say I wasn't too distressed to see her go.

Teresa and I stood at the gate as they went down the hill. Teresa giggled suddenly. 'She all over Rozanna, that Rose,' she observed, as Rose turned to wait for Rozanna at the bottom, smiling up effusively. 'But my G.o.d, she die if she had any idea . .

'Well quite,' I agreed nervously.

We watched until they got to the lake, then turned and went inside, shooing the boys upstairs to do their teeth. All of a sudden I felt rather relieved to have Teresa to myself.

'And she also,' went on Teresa thoughtfully, 'seem very keen, I think, for you to meet someone. Some man. Very much the Mrs Bennet, yes?'

'Oh very much,' I agreed.

'Which surprise me, really. When you think, you once married to her so beloved son?'

I shrugged. 'I suppose she thinks it's inevitable, Teresa. And because of the boys, she wants to do the choosing.' I smiled wryly. 'At least, that's what Jess says.'

Teresa smiled. 'Jess have an awful lot to say on many, many subjects' She glanced at me knowingly. 'But you know, sometimes you have to make your own way. Make your own choices. Mistakes, even, too.'

I hugged her shoulder as we followed the boys upstairs. 'And sometimes,' I grinned, 'I'm glad I have such wise old friends.'

Chapter Eleven.

Teresa and I sat in the sunny front garden the following morning, relaxing and enjoying an extremely late breakfast as the boys played in the woods. Suddenly we paused in our chatter for a moment, lowered our coffee cups, and peered. Two heads were beginning to emerge above the long gra.s.s beyond the garden, and seconds later, Rozanna and Jess appeared, struggling up the hill towards us, dragging their cases and giggling wildly.

'Couldn't you get your batman to bring those for you?' I called.

'No time,' gasped Jess. 'Had to escape. G.o.d, it was like Colditz up there, with Kommandant Rose in full swing'

'She certainly takes a bit of laughing off, doesn't she?' panted Rozanna, flopping down into a spare Lloyd Loom chair, head thrown back, arms hanging limply. 'Anyone would think she'd had a sniff at something, she's so fizzed up. So unrelaxing, first thing. Ooh, yes please, proper coffee' She sat up and took the cup I offered her gratefully. 'I swear, you could stand your spoon up in the stuff they gave us up there. Thanks, Lucy.'

'And lovely croissants too,' said Jess greedily, reaching across for the basket as she dragged up a chair. 'G.o.d, you should have seen our morning fare. We had to present ourselves at the sea of polished mahogany and wade through mountains of cold, yuk-a-roony kedgeree. Puke.'

'And then listen to Lady R berating poor Lavinia and Pinkie for not snapping up a man apiece last night,' said Rozanna.

'Except that the poor woman's clearly blind,' put in Jess tartly. 'Judging by Pinkie's neck, she went off piste early and snapped up quite a few in the bushes. Mmm ... this is yummy.' She paused to wipe dripping b.u.t.ter off her chin.

'Ah. So, post-match a.n.a.lysis suggests the party was not entirely to Her Ladyship's liking?' I hazarded nervously.

'Hardly,' said Jess darkly. 'Having ripped her daughters to shreds, she then had a go at poor old Hector. He really got it in the neck, and all because he hadn't talked to some girl called Sophia Lennox-something, who'd come all the way from Cirencester to see him, and who was in possession of, and I quote, "the most marvellous seat I've ever seen!" '

'What, ancestral, or on a horse?'

'Who knows, either way it was all Greek to me, but pure Georgette Heyer. Anyway, clearly Hector had bogged his big chance and is firmly in the dog house.'

'To which he crawled, apologising profusely, blushing and stammering?'

'No, he didn't actually. It was really rather surprising.' Jess c.o.c.ked her head thoughtfully and chewed hard. 'He told his mother to shut up and keep her b.l.o.o.d.y nose out of his personal life. Then he stormed out of the room.'

'Blimey! That's a turn-up for the books. Completely out of character.'

'Well quite. But then, undaunted,' Jess sat up straight, clearly enjoying herself now, 'old Rose turned her big guns on those poor, sweet aunts. Oh, they got a thorough going over. The moment they tottered into that dining room - still, incidentally, in the curtains and jewels they were wearing last night - Rose demanded they delve straight into their handbags and hand over their driving licences!'

'Oh for G.o.d's sake. I can't believe they did that.'

'Certainly not. But there was a terrible row, with Cynthia, quite rightly I thought, demanding that if they did, then Lavinia should be made to surrender her gin bottles which made her a menace in her Volvo after six o'clock at night, and that Pinkie should hand over her contraceptive pills since -and get this - the threat of getting pregnant might stop her fornicating in the bushes and distracting local motorists. It was all pretty squiffy logic but hugely entertaining. Anyway, Rose banged on a bit more about wanting them off the road and Archie kept his head buried in the Telegraph at the other end of the table, and then finally, Jack saved the day by suggesting the aunts simply had a warning on their car. "What, like L plates?" Lady R demanded, spraying egg through her teeth. "Exactly," said Jack. And then dear old Violet widened her pale blue eyes and said, "Oh, I see. So we could have M, for Mad." '

'Oh G.o.d!' I snorted into my coffee.

'Well, Rose was beside herself then. "You see!" she shrieked, standing up and pointing a quivering finger. "Even they know it! Why doesn't anyone listen to me?" '

'So what happened?'

'A compromise was finally reached, and after breakfast the aunts sped away in a cloud of dust with a sign, made by Jack, slapped to their rear window. It read: Beware. If They Haven't Killed You Yet, They Will Soon. They were really rather pleased with it actually. Thought it gave fair warning, but was suitably macho and punchy.'

'Oh dear,' giggled Rozanna, wiping a tear from her eye. 'Such a bizarre family. If one didn't know better, one could swear they were terribly aristocratic, they have all the hallmarks. But you know, Lucy, they're really not very grand at all. Frightfully parvenu.'

I put my coffee cup down. 'How d'you mean?'

'Well, I looked them up while I was having a bath I got the most sumptuous room and en suite in the place I might add, she clearly wants to be my best friend and I don't know what Ned told you, but they're only first generation. Quite the arrivistes.'

'Ned didn't tell me anything. He wasn't particularly interested.'

'Well, Archie's a self-made man like his father before him. Made his fortune marketing frozen pies or something very definitely "trade" and was given a gong by the then Prime Minister for services rendered to catering, and Rose doesn't even exist. She's actually only ent.i.tled to call herself Lady Fellowes by virtue of her marriage to Archie, and not Lady Rose which she appears to have affected, and which would suggest she's the daughter of an earl which, my dears, she clearly ain't.'

'That would explain the rather hectic pink bathrooms andthick carpets upstairs,' mused Jess. 'I'm no aficionado of these things but I had a feeling it wasn't quite the ticket.'

'Oh absolutely not,' agreed Rozanna. 'There are severe lapses of taste dotted all around that house. Look at all that Dralon in the drawing room, and even the house has a facade. It's not really Georgian at all.'

'How strange,' I pondered. 'I'd always heard that she'd . . well. Rather married beneath her, as she would say.'

'All spin,' said Rozanna firmly. 'She dreamed it up long ago and has somehow maintained the fiction over the years. Her obsessive sn.o.bbery lets her down too, actually. Reeks of social insecurity. The real McCoy are far more relaxed and wouldn't give a toss if you used the wrong knife, or threw in the odd "serviette" or "pardon".'

'I wonder who she was before?' I mused, biting into a peach. 'I mean, before she met Archie'

'Word has it,' said a low voice in my ear, 'that she was a topless lap-dancer in a night club.'

I swung around in horror. 'Jack!' I gasped. 'You made that up!'

'Of course I did,' he said cheerfully, swinging an elegant denim leg over the bench beside me and helping himself to a croissant. 'But why let the boring truth stand in the way of a good lie? No, if you really want to know, according to my aged pa, she was just a rather ordinary, tennis club type who hung about on shooting weekends awaiting her big chance. Pretty, but faintly tedious. Until she got her hooks into Archie, of course, when she became excessively tedious.'

'I prefer the lap-dancing,' giggled Teresa.

'Oh me too,' agreed Jack. 'And that's why rumours start, you know, Luce, particularly scurrilous ones, because they're far more entertaining. You have to be very, very careful, particularly when you get into strange men's cars, for instance. People will construe all sorts of things.' His blue eyes twinkled at me as he chewed away.

I stared. Strange men's cars? What the ... oh, for G.o.d's sake! Jess went pink and hurriedly attended to something crucial deep in her handbag. Clearly a briefing session had gone on over breakfast.

'I see,' I said evenly. 'I should be more careful, should I? You mean, as careful as you've been throughout your colourful career, eh Jack? Do tell me, how is the erotic alternative to Mary Poppins shaping up?'

'Now now, no need to be catty.' He grinned. 'She's training to be a nurse back home, I'll have you know, just over here as an au pair to earn some extra ackers. But since you ask, she's shaping up very nicely thank you. I've been helping her perfect her bedside manner, a crucial part of a nurse's training. As a matter of fact, we've just spent a very happy half hour with a box of sticky bandages and a blood pressure kit'

'What you do with the blood pressure kit?' Teresa asked curiously.

Jack turned full circle to face her. 'I'd be happy to show you any time,' he murmured. No pain, I promise. We simply strap something black and stretchy round here,' he indicated her upper arm. 'Hmm . lovely skin ... and then we do some really rather strenuous exercises. You'd get awfully hot in all those clothes, have to allow me to remove some. And then we have a cosy ten minutes comparing pulses.' His eyes widened.'Any pulse will do. Trisha enjoyed that bit very much.' Teresa laughed and licked b.u.t.ter from her fingers. 'I see.' She grinned and waggled her wedding ring at him.

'Oh, that wouldn't stop Jack,' I sneered.

'True,' he swung around. 'But it would normally stop you'

A silence unfolded and I could feel myself blushing. G.o.d, what was this, a b.l.o.o.d.y conspiracy? At length I found my voice.

'Christ, you've got some gall, Jack Fellowes, and some awesome double standards too. How dare you lecture me like some some Victorian deacon!'

'Because I'm a lost cause, my love,' he said cheerfully, pushing his plate away. 'A lecture would do me absolutely no good at all, but it might just make an impression on you. Mmm...' He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 'Good tucker. Very good tucker. You do a d.a.m.n fine breakfast down here, Luce, I'll give you that.'

'You mean if nothing else?' I retorted angrily.

No, I'll give you...' he gazed around, 'nice barn as well. Yes, really rather pleasant accommodation. Thoroughly satisfactory set-up, all round. Girl done good, eh Jess?' He grinned at Jess, who averted her eyes guiltily.

'We mustn't bully her too much, Jack,' she said uncomfortably. 'I laid into her quite enough last night. And we are, don't forget, her friends and guests.'

'You could have fooled me,' I snapped. 'Stop b.l.o.o.d.y getting at me, you two, you're both the same!'

'Which is strange, don't you think?' hazarded Jack. 'That Jess and I should currently see eye to eye, when in the past, we've differed so dramatically?'

This much was true. For years, whenever Jess and Jack had met, they'd been at each other's throats, bickering and sparring, Jess objecting to Jack's blatantly wayward lifestyle, and Jack deriding what he saw as Jess's rampant feminism, which he considered misguided and oppressive. He loved to tease her, too. He turned to her now.

'So how's that Real Man of yours then, Jess moving smartly on and changing the subject because it looks like Luce is about to go critical on us. Let's press your b.u.t.tons for a bit, eh? Still trying to keep him on the straight and narrow? Still trying to keep him out of the pub and urge him towards tapestry and Bible Studies?'

'Oh p.i.s.s off, Jack.'

'Strange,' he mused, scratching his chin, 'when you obviously abhor the h.e.l.l-raising, Lothario lifestyle, that you then up and marry one of our number. Weren't there any teetotal wimps available for selection? No thundering great pansies up for grabs?'

'Oh Jack, he'd be flattered to be included among your number,' rejoined Jess smoothly. 'He considers himself a mere apprentice to you, a novice at your knee. Depravity on your truly heroic proportions is something he's only ever dreamed of. And anyway,' she added sweetly, 'Jamie hung up his tankard and running shoes long ago. Three years ago, to be precise. When he married me.' She glanced at her watch. 'Actually I must go and ring him. Check how he's getting on with young Henry. See if he's mastered the potty training yet.' She shot Jack a triumphant look. He shuddered violently into his coffee cup.

'Why she keep tabs on him so much?' asked Teresa as Jess hurried away into the barn. 'Always she say "I must ring Jamie. Must check on this, must check on that." '

'Because she can't quite believe she's snared him,' grinned Jack. 'Jamie's a good man. He's had his fun, and now he's settled down, but she's still wary, still standing at the door brandishing a rolling pin. You're right, Teresa, she should give him a break.'

'You think?' drawled Rozanna. She was sitting slightly apart, behind him.

'You don't?' he drawled back, turning to look at her.

She blew a thin line of smoke high over his head. 'In my experience, Jack, daahling, she has every right to feel paranoid. I don't believe the spots change that quickly, or that easily.'

'Ah, what an old cynic you are,' he grinned, reaching out and squeezing her hand. 'Such a tonic!'

'Less of the old,' she smiled, patting his cheek, 'and more of the tonic, since you mention it. With a little gin in it, actually. It's five past twelve for heaven's sake, and although breakfast was lovely, doesn't anyone else feel the need to shape up to something a little more well, adult? Lucy,' she turned to me, 'couldn't this supposed h.e.l.l-raiser of a man make himself useful in that department?'

'Of course he could, Rozanna,' I agreed staunchly. 'What would you like?'

'Well, a gin and tonic would be go down a treat, darling. There's a boy.' She patted Jack's arm benignly.