One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [131]
‘Yes, Piggy and Fluff. And of course Piggy didn’t bat an eyelid!’
We all roared again, and this time I was right on cue, didn’t miss a beat.
That’ll be me soon, I thought, eyeing Imogen avidly: pearls in my ears, cashmere round my neck, beautifully coiffed hair under a charming tweed hat with velvet rim, and those smart leather welly boots with ties round the top. I must ask Laura where to get them. Although Laura tended to wear jeans and some hastily borrowed garish plastic boots of her daughter’s. Yes, me and Hal: laughing with our friends as we weekended up in Scotland, fishing perhaps, or deerstalking. Bambi’s mother sprang to mind. No, just fishing. And maybe even with Imogen and her husband? She looked nice, I thought. She smiled as my eyes devoured her.
‘You’re Laura’s sister, aren’t you? We didn’t meet properly last night.’
‘Yes, Hattie.’
‘Well, if you’re staying, do come to supper tomorrow night. We’re having a few people over. Hal’s coming, aren’t you, Hal?’
But Hal was engrossed with the chap beside him, laughing heartily at another shooting anecdote.
‘I’d love to,’ I smiled back, happily. Had she already clocked us as a couple? How thrilling. ‘Are you local, then?’
‘Yes, only a mile or so that way.’ She pointed.
‘Oh right. In the village?’
‘Well, the castle.’
‘Ah, yes, of course.’
Fuck me. I knew Laura and Hugh’s friends lived in stonking great piles, but I hadn’t really paid much attention. I would now, though. I’d be mugging up on all the grand estates. I should clearly know who lived in which. Could I Google them? I wondered. Or was there a book I could buy? Yes, of course, there was Debrett’s. Golly. Never thought I’d be popping that in my Amazon basket. Needs must, though, and I was pretty sure I’d have this aristocracy lark under my belt in no time. Just so long as the accent didn’t get on my wick, I thought nervously as a thoroughly inbred woman on my left whinnied spectacularly in my ear.
Imogen was stroking a Labrador’s head as she chatted away to me, sweetly actually, asking about London, what I did, genuinely interested, and as I chatted back, I chummily stroked the head of the Lab beside me. But when it moved, I realized I’d been stroking Hal’s knee, clad in soft moleskin. He crossed his leg away and I burned with shame. Should have made a joke of it there and then. Imogen would: ‘Thought you were the bleedin’ dorg!’ but Hal was still engrossed with his neighbour and the moment had passed.
We rumbled down a snaking track into the valley bottom and shuddered to a halt. Someone came running round to let us out and as I jumped down into the crisp, frosty grass, I cast Hal a glance. He grinned back, eyes shining. Well, of course they were shining: I’d fondled him in public, already. And I was going to be so restrained, so poised. Exercise some caution, for a change. I sighed. Oh, well.
Maggie came marching up.
‘Cow,’ she hissed in my ear. ‘What’s that?’ She jerked her head at my shooting stick. ‘A seat.’ I opened it. ‘You perch your backside on it as you drool behind your man at his peg.’
‘Right, I’ll have that,’ she grabbed it. ‘If I’m going to be forced into the role of subservient peg totty I’ll bloody well do it in comfort.’ I grabbed it back and we giggled as an unseemly tussle ensued.
‘Maggie, behave.’
‘Don’t you tell me to behave. You’re the one fluttering your eyelids at that sexy Hal Forbes. Why he hasn’t been snapped up yet I simply can’t imagine.’
‘Actually, Maggie…’ I lowered my voice to confide, to divulge, for until we share our secrets with our friends they lack a certain dimension, when suddenly, she clutched my arm.
‘Look – isn’t that the girl we met in the village? With Seffy?’
My laughter dissipated, my excited gossip with it, as I turned. A few yards away, Cassie and Seffy were standing together, heads bowed, talking softly. They’d clearly just clambered off the back of a throbbing quad bike.
‘It is, isn’t it?’ repeated Maggie. ‘She’s gorgeous. Oh, don’t look like that, Hattie. You’re far too possessive.