By eight o’clock Lewis had still not returned from his run. Bryony gave up waiting and decided to join the others. Laughter rose to greet her as she descended the staircase.
Jim, dressed in beige trousers, desert boots and a perfectly ironed short-sleeved shirt, was standing next to Professor Potts, resplendent in a white shirt, blue Victorian Jacquard waistcoat and Armani jeans. Roxanne, sitting by the window, was chatting amiably to Oscar. Biggie was wearing a gold pendant and a black baseball cap. He grinned at Bryony but remained fixed on Roxanne’s lap.
Professor Potts downed the contents of his glass and boomed. ‘Bryony, so glad you made it. Where’s your teammate, Lucas?’
‘Lewis, not Lucas,’ she replied, feeling her smile tighten.
‘Ha! Of course. I keep getting confused. Is he not joining us?’
‘He’s gone for a run. Driving all day made us both stiffen up,’ she answered.
‘He seemed a bit of a stiff,’ he joked, raising eyebrows at Roxanne to draw attention to his quip. Roxanne smiled in acknowledgement. ‘I’m sure Lucas, oh dear, there I go again, I mean Lewis, will feel much better after a long, sweaty run,’ said Professor Potts. ‘There’s little point in waiting any longer for him. He’ll probably be gone ages and we don’t want the food to go cold. Shall we go and eat? I’m ravenous. Bryony, why don’t you sit next to me and we can chat? I haven’t had the chance to find out much about you and you seem such an enchanting creature.’
Bryony cringed at his smarminess. Professor Potts was clearly not as charming and pleasant as she had initially thought. They drifted through to the dining room where Bertrand was waiting for them, a bottle of white wine in his hand. He circled the table. A middle-aged woman, white hair swept back in a bun and dressed casually in jeans and shirt covered with an apron, brought in a large tureen of soup. Bertrand stood to attention and announced, ‘French oyster soup, a typical Breton dish. I hope you enjoy it. Bon appétit.’
‘One of my favourite dishes,’ Professor Potts enthused, reaching for the serving spoon and ladling some into Bryony’s bowl. ‘They use the smallest oysters to make this soup. That’s what gives it the extra creamy texture and, of course, oysters are an aphrodisiac,’ he added, his eyes glittering. His hand brushed against hers as he set the bowl down and he glanced at her meaningfully. She thanked him and deliberately looked away.
‘So, did you all enjoy today?’ he asked.
‘It was a blast!’ said Oscar.
Roxanne took a sip of her soup and remarked, ‘This is good. Very good indeed. I bet my brother-in-law would really enjoy this soup. He’s from Marseilles.’
‘You should ask Bertrand to pass you the recipe for your sister to make it for him,’ said Potts airily.
Roxanne shook her head. ‘I think my poor, long-suffering sister has enough to do holding down a full-time job and looking after four children without preparing oyster soup. I try to help her out when I’m around. That’s what sisters do, isn’t it?’
Bryony felt the room swim as her words echoed in her head.
‘Earth to Bryony.’
‘Sorry. I drifted off.’
‘Fatigue,’ Professor Potts declared. ‘You were cooped up with Lucas for a long time. Must have been tiring.’
Bryony placed her spoon back on the table, preparing to correct him once and for all. Oscar saved her from speaking.
‘Lewis,’ he said quietly. ‘His name is Lewis. Not Lucas.’
‘Silly me. Oscar, tell me all about Biggie Smalls’ outfit. Is that a replica Jesus piece pendant he’s wearing or did you, like the rapper B.I.G. purchase it from Jacob the Jeweler?’
‘Hardly. This is a replica. I couldn’t stretch to an authentic pendant. My little Biggie wore it for a music magazine photo shoot last year and the magazine let us keep it. They dressed up several pugs to look like famous rap artists. Biggie had such fun and made lots of doggie friends. This Biggie Smalls prefers wearing jumpers to pendants. He only wears this piece on special occasions.’
‘Looking good, Biggie,’ commented Professor Potts, hiding a smirk behind his serviette.
‘Can I ask you something rather personal?’
‘Fire away, Oscar.’
‘Have you got a girlfriend?’
‘I haven’t had much time for relationships recently. I was pretty busy filming abroad for a new show about the natural world, and the last series of Mate or Date was demanding.’
‘You haven’t got a girlfriend. I find that very difficult to believe,’ Oscar continued. ‘I don’t mean to be nosey. It’s just I hang out with lots of ballerinas who’ll be insanely jealous when they find out I’ve had dinner with the handsome Professor David Potts, and the first question they’ll ask me will be about his eligibility.’
‘You can tell them I’m not dating anyone at the moment,’ replied Professor Potts, finishing his soup and wiping his mouth with a serviette. ‘Nor do I have any love interests. I’m young, free and single. What about you, Oscar?’
‘I have a girlfriend – Lucinda – who’s also a dancer. She’s a Brit but is working in New York. It’s one of those easy relationships at the moment – not too serious because we’re both so busy but she’s moving in with me in the fall and we’ll see how that works out.’
Bryony heard the creak of the front door as it opened and caught a glimpse of someone passing the dining room. It was Lewis. She suddenly felt the urge to share the news with him. If Professor Potts was indeed not seeing Maxwell then Lewis might stand a chance of rekindling his relationship with her. She thought about following him upstairs but a small voice fixed her in her seat. Did she really want him to rush back to Maxwell?
Oscar was now talking about his family in the States.
‘Why didn’t you stay in New York? There must be lots of companies and productions there,’ Roxanne asked.
‘I was born in London but we moved to the States when I was a toddler so I don’t have many recollections of time in the UK. As I got older, I became curious about England – afternoon tea, red post boxes, double-decker buses, the royal family, Buckingham Palace – they all seemed so romantic and very British. I took up ballet classes in New York from an early age at one of the best schools – Joffreys. I was a natural and ballet fast became my passion. I could have stayed and enjoyed a career there but Europe seemed much more alluring so I cajoled my folks into letting me study in London. My ballet tutor suggested I apply to the Royal Ballet School and to cut a long story short, I was accepted and came over here. Mom and Pop helped me find an apartment and made sure I had enough money to start off. They were great about everything. I stay in touch with them all the time. They plan to visit London this year and come to see Swan Lake. It’ll be such a buzz to see Mom and Pop sitting in the front row looking proud. I’m a lucky guy.’ He gave a wide smile.
Bertrand removed the soup tureen and returned with warmed plates for everyone. The woman placed a large dish of fish in tomato and covered with sour cream in the middle of the table.
‘This is called la lotte à l’Armoricaine. You call it monkfish in American sauce. It is a traditional French recipe from coastal Brittany.’
‘Delicious,’ murmured Jim, licking his lips.
‘Bon appétit!’ Bertrand bowed before leaving the group once more.
‘Truly awesome,’ agreed Oscar.
Jim’s eyes twinkled as he regarded the dish. ‘Did you know monkfish is also known as poor man’s lobster? I haven’t had monkfish for years. I enjoy a nice piece of fish but I don’t like cooking fish much. It’s the smell. It pervades the entire house and sends the cat crazy.’
Roxanne sat up with interest. ‘You have a cat? I’ve got one too. Mine’s a Persian. A right pampered puss.’
Emptying his mouth first, Jim continued, ‘Our cat’s a stray. It found us. It sat outside our back door one wet afternoon a year ago and cried for over an hour until I let it in, then it made a beeline for Cathy and jumped onto her lap where it spent the rest of the day purring. Poor little creature is as bald as a coot. It’s called a Sphynx cat and it’s got no fur, only a pelt the same colour as skin. I’ve never seen an uglier cat but my goodness, it is affectionate.’
‘Is it an Egyptian breed?’
‘No, it’s a breed from Canada. Apparently, they’re becoming increasingly popular. I’m not that fond of it but as I said, Cathy adores it and the little ’uns love it too.’
‘How old are your grandchildren, Jim?’
‘Poppy’s ten, Daisy’s eight and little Rose is six. They’re cracking kids. Would you like to see a photograph of them?’ asked Jim. He replaced his cutlery onto the plate, wiped his mouth and moustache with his serviette and, twisting around, extracted his wallet from the pocket of his blazer hung tidily on the back of his chair. He gazed at the photograph, adoration etched all over his face, and passed it to Professor Potts.
Professor Potts glanced at it briefly, mumbled ‘Lovely,’ and gave the picture to Roxanne.
She was more enthusiastic with her praise. ‘They’re so cute. I can see why you’re so proud of them.’
‘I’m blessed,’ said Jim. ‘They’re such clever girls too. I’d like to get some money together to help them through university. I’ll have to try out for a few more quiz shows before I’d be able to do a lot to assist them but I have time, so who knows.’
‘I think they’re equally blessed to have such a loving grandfather,’ Oscar added.
Jim took the photograph from Roxanne, studied it once more with a blissful look on his face. ‘Those little girls are my world. And Cathy’s too. They make both our lives worthwhile. Hearing them laugh is worth more than all the diamonds in a diamond mine. You really can’t beat family,’ he said with heartfelt sincerity.
With those words, Bryony was suddenly overwhelmed by sadness. She could not face any more of this conversation, and the wine she had just sipped tasted sour.
‘I know it’s mid-meal but would you mind if I left you all? I’m suddenly ever so tired. I can hardly lift my fork and I’m not hungry any more.’
Roxanne threw her a concerned look. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes. It’s been a long day. See you tomorrow morning.’
‘Night, Bryony,’ called the others.
Professor Potts picked up his wine glass and gave her a cursory wave. ‘See you tomorrow, Bryony. Hope Lucas enjoyed his run.’