The sun flooding Falcon’s lovely kitchen is doing nothing to soften his mother’s words. The morning has developed into that most awkward of things – a sickening heart-to-heart.
‘I know you miss her terribly, darling. But girls like that are for flings, not for keeps. And I should know – Henry went through enough of them.’
This is the first time his mother has openly acknowledged her husband’s serial unfaithfulness, the bloody great elephant in the room for so many years.
Beatrice stands with her back to Kit, making herself another cup of tea.
Kit consciously squeezes his shoulders down away from his ears as Primrose sits leaning against his ankle, unflustered by Beatrice’s revelations. He has no idea what to say.
As she waits for the kettle to boil, his mother begins to take the remaining items from the provision boxes, putting them 351into the cupboards in a haphazard manner.
After this show of busyness, she suddenly says, ‘Oh, before I forget, Charlotte sends her love.’
‘Jesus Christ!’
The dog sits to attention, as if Kit has called her name.
‘There’s no need to be so touchy, darling. She misses you.’
‘She’s a bloody stalker. She DMs me every week!’
‘She is a lovely girl. Why you two didn’t get together is beyond me.’
‘She was vile to—’
‘The barmaid?’
‘My girlfriend, you mean? Hannah. She has a name. Charlotte hated her.’
Beatrice pauses, then slowly moves towards him, a look of revelation painted across her face. She says, ‘Have you considered Charlotte might have bumped into her up there? What if they had some sort of … altercation?’
‘Are you insane? Charlotte couldn’t knock the skin off a rice pudding,’ snorts Kit. ‘If there had been a fight, Hannah would have wiped the floor with her.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right.’
Exasperated, he gets up to leave. ‘I want to get out on the water this afternoon – make the best of the weather. It might be my last chance.’
‘That’s the ticket! Good food, good wine, and fresh air!’ smiles Beatrice. ‘All the soul needs.’