surprises are in store for us?’
Lydie. said with constraint, ‘I thought you liked Marius.’
‘Like the rest of us, I suspect I never knew him.’ He sounded reflective as he poured her usual dry sherry. ‘Although that’s an omission we’ll all have ample opportunity to repair from now on.’ He handed her her glass then drank some whisky. ‘Our mama is fit to be tied, of course.’
Lydie nodded. ‘I’ve seen her.’ She paused. ‘I think she’s overreacting.’
‘Or just overacting.’ Jon reached for the decanter again. ‘But you can’t blame her for being shocked. For once she looked at her hand and failed to find Austin twined round her little finger. That makes him unpredictable, and therefore dangerous.’
Lydie twisted the stern of the crystal glass in her fingers. She said, ‘She’s always blamed Marius—the quarrel—for Austin’s heart attack.’
Jon laughed derisively. ‘That’s only part of it. She and Marius were at odds from the start, ever since she started treating her marriage like a pools win.’ He waved his glass around. ‘This house, for starters. She had it completely done over—got rid of all the family stuff that had been here for generations. Marius, apparently, found this clean sweep slightly insensitive.’
‘I didn’t realise that,’ Lydie said slowly. ‘I knew there’d been changes, of course.’
‘You were too young to see what was going on. Apparently the business was having problems at the time but Mama was oblivious. And she resented the fact that Marius couldn’t also be brought to heel with a flutter of her eyelashes. Plus he was tactless enough to let her see he thought she’d exceeded her sell-by date.’
Lydie bit her lip. ‘Yes, I understood that at least.’
‘So, when Austin finally cancelled the blank cheque and made her an allowance instead, she blamed Marius.’ Jon held his glass up to the light, admiring the rich amber of the whisky. ‘Although I’d guess it was pressure from the accountants and the bank. However besotted Austin was, he wasn’t going to let her bankrupt him.’
He shook his head. ‘But with Marius banished to outer darkness Mama must have thought the gravy train would eventually be running on the old track again. Hence her distress at his return.’
‘But you’re not happy about it either.’
‘Are you?’ He gave her a searching look. ‘I recall you had it pretty bad for him at one time.’
Lydie moved an evasive shoulder. ‘An adolescent crush.’ She didn’t look at him. ‘Maybe I’ve come back for you.’ The words seemed to hammer in her brain, threatening her. ‘Water under the bridge,’ she threw defiantly at the sudden shiver whispering down her spine.
‘I hope for your sake that’s true. I can’t imagine that his wilderness years will have softened his attitude towards our side of the family.’
‘What about you?’
Jon’s lips tightened. ‘I’ve put in five years’ hard graft at that bloody mill. I don’t want someone else to have my place in the sun while I’m relegated to the sidelines—or worse,’ he added grimly.
Lydie put down her untouched glass. ‘You don’t think this would be a good time to make a complete break?’
He shot her an angry look. ‘You’ve been letting Nell brainwash you, darling. I’m staying where I am and fighting my corner. And you should do the same. Because if anything happens to Austin Marius will have us out of here before the coffin lid’s screwed down.’
Lydie found herself wincing at his crudeness. She said, half to herself, ‘I wonder where he’s been—all this time?’
‘Not letting the grass grow under his feet, that’s for sure. You should see the car he’s driving these days.’ He paused. ‘As a matter of interest, you didn’t persuade Nell to change her mind and come tonight?’
His tone was elaborately casual, and Lydie softened in spite of herself. ‘No, but I did try.’
‘Never mind,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘I’ll have to rely on Chivas Regal for company instead.’
The door opened and Debra Benedict came in. She was wearing a silver dress and there were amethysts around her throat and in her ears. She checked, looking round her.
‘Where are they?’ she asked sharply.
‘Presumably in the study, having another round of peace talks.’ Jon waved the decanter at her. ‘Drinkies?’
‘No, thank you, and you’ve had quite enough as well.’ Debra gave him a warning frown. ‘Don’t play into that man’s hands by getting drunk tonight, for heaven’s sake.’ She paused. ‘I’ll get Mrs Arnthwaite to announce dinner now.’
‘Thus killing numerous birds with one stone.’ Jon put the decanter down. ‘OK, Mama, I surrender.’
But I don’t, Lydie thought, lifting her chin. I can’t. I’m going to fight—and go on fighting. Because, whatever happens, I can’t let him anywhere near me again. I dare not.
Austin Benedict looked relaxed as he took his seat at the head of the table. Marius, seating himself opposite Lydie, appeared merely inscrutable.
‘Well, this is pleasant,’ Austin remarked, unfolding his napkin. ‘The calm before the storm. How many people are coming to this shindig afterwards, Deb?’
Mrs Benedict cleared her throat. ‘Over two hundred—if they all turn up.’
‘Oh, they’ll come.’ He nodded. ‘Even the ones who never intended to. Word soon gets round this valley, and they’ll all be here to see for themselves.’ He transferred his attention to Lydie. ‘That’s a sombre colour for a party, lass. This is a celebration, not a wake, and don’t you forget it.’
The warning note was unmistakable. So was the bottle of Krug, cooling on ice on the sideboard. Lydie felt Marius’s ironic gaze seek hers across the table and faint colour rose in her face.
Austin addressed himself to the company at large. ‘We present a united front tonight,’ he said abruptly. ‘What happened five years ago is no one’s business but our own. I want that clear.’ He swept the table with a fierce gaze. ‘No recriminations or prying into what’s over. We can’t call time back to alter things, so we look to the future. Right?’
‘As the future’s been mentioned,’ Jon said softly, ‘may I ask what office I’ll be occupying on Monday? When I left today I was sales director, but things seem to be changing so fast suddenly...’
Lydie swore under her breath. That’s not the way to handle it, you fool, she castigated him silently.
It was Marius who answered, his tone even. ‘You’ll have the same job. But I’d like a departmental report for the last six months on my desk by mid-week.’
‘Certainly.’ Jon sketched a parody of a salute. ‘And what desk precisely is that?’
‘The managing director’s,’ said Austin. ‘I’m
