The Real Katie Lavender (28 page)

From the comments Katie had heard throughout the day, the opening had been a big hit. The quality of the refreshments had frequently been remarked upon, and many regulars to The Meadows had said what a welcome addition it was to have something decent to eat and drink and Pen should seriously consider opening the garden more often. Katie was glad for Pen that things had gone so well, and glad too that she was a part of it.

Wondering whether she could risk slipping away to take a tray of used crockery up to the house, she saw Stirling coming towards her across the lawn. He was wearing a cream linen suit with a panama hat, and she, once again, thought how striking he looked. He’d been here for most of the day, pitching in wherever help was needed as well as charming Cecily’s fellow female oldsters from South Lodge, settling them at the tables in the shade, taking their tea and cake orders and generally making a fuss of them. He was the most relaxed Katie had seen him. Yet she knew he had little to be relaxed about. Whilst he was back with his wife, things – according to Lloyd – were far from normal between them. The fact that Gina wasn’t here today with Stirling told its own story, and knowing that she was the reason for the woman’s absence was weighing heavily on Katie’s conscience. But what could she do to rectify things? How could she heal the rift? Other than disappear entirely from Stirling’s life? But could she do that now?

‘Looks like the show’s winding down,’ Stirling said. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘What would you rather do, take these up to the house or stand in for me while I do it?’

He eyed the heavily laden trays and smiled. ‘Trick question, eh?’ He took one and pretended to stagger beneath its weight. ‘I’ll be back for the other in a minute.’

Katie watched him go. She still hadn’t got used to thinking of him as her father. Would she ever? Did she need to? But if she didn’t, what did that make him? A friend? A sort of uncle? It was all too vague. Relationships – of any kind – had to be clearly defined; it was what laid the foundations and set the parameters. But it was early days, she reminded herself. Apart from occasionally speaking on the phone and exchanging emails, she and Stirling really hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know each other. Hopefully that could now happen.

From across the lawn she spotted a pair of late arrivals – a couple whose appearance had just dramatically reduced the average age of the visitors that day. Clearly pregnant and dressed in a white drop-waisted dress with spaghetti straps, the girl wore a floppy-brimmed hat that hid her face. The man – presumably her husband – was busy talking into a mobile phone, and he too had his face partially hidden, in his case with a pair of aviator sunglasses. Intrigued, Katie watched them as they came to a stop on the sweep of lawn that gave them the best view of the area of garden sloping gently down to the river. The man ended his call, said something to his wife, and as one they turned their heads, taking in the garden. It was then, just as they both looked towards the pavilion, that Katie realized who they were.

Not husband and wife. But brother and sister.

Rosco and Scarlet.

Uh-oh.

They exchanged a brief word, and with one hand placed in the small of his sister’s back, Rosco seemed to push Scarlet in the direction of the pavilion.

I can do this, Katie told herself as they drew near.

She shot a panicky glance towards the house, hoping for Stirling to appear. Why hadn’t he told her they might show up? No, second thoughts: he’d done the right thing in not telling her; she’d only have spent the day worrying.

There was no sign of Stirling.

She then looked to her right, further down the garden, hoping to see Lloyd galloping to her rescue.

I do not need rescuing, she scolded herself in disgust. Since when had she turned into such a pathetic wimp? She had coped with far worse than this before. She was the absolute real deal when it came to coping. Just let them try to intimidate her. And so pretending she hadn’t noticed them, she busied herself with sweeping up cake crumbs.

An eternity passed, and then: ‘And this must be none other than the person we’ve heard so much about recently, Katie Lavender.’

She looked up, polite smile firmly in place. ‘Hello,’ she said, feigning ignorance for a nanosecond as to whom she was facing. If Rosco could put on a performance of laughable fakery, so could she. ‘Oh,’ she then said, as if recognition had dawned, ‘and you must be Rosco and Scarlet who I’ve heard so much about.’ She put her hand out, noting that Rosco was working the whole alpha-male thing to death – sunglasses tipped back on his head, chest out, jaw set, smart-arse smile plastered across his self-assured face. He was looking at her hand, as though considering whether to shake it or not. She would have expected nothing less from him and so kept her hand resolutely outstretched. He’d shake it or she’d use it to whack the bejeezus out of him.

‘But of course we’ve met before, haven’t we?’ he said with an affected drawl, finally, and briefly, shaking her hand. ‘The night of my grandmother’s birthday party, when you were waitressing for us. Now here you are again waiting on us.’

Nice put-down, she thought. And so tempting to return the compliment. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. She turned to Scarlet. She didn’t bother to try and force a handshake from her; no point in pushing her luck. From beneath the brim of her hat, the girl looked at Katie with an artful do-I-give-a-shit look. Ooh, so slap-worthy. ‘It’s good to meet you both properly,’ Katie said, adding with just a hint of emphasis, ‘at last.’

‘We’ve been busy,’ Rosco said. ‘It’s been a difficult time for the family.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘You have my sympathy. It must have been an awful shock for you all.’

‘Yes, we’re still trying to come to terms with what Uncle Neil did.’

‘And with Daddy telling us about
you
.’

This was from Scarlet. ‘Yes, I would expect that was quite a shock for you both,’ Katie said, trying her best to sound friendly.

Scarlet leant over the table. ‘You have no idea what we think or feel, so don’t waste your breath.’ Her eyes flashed dangerously – they were blue, but icily blue, not the soft sky-blue of Lloyd’s eyes. ‘And just because you’ve wormed your way in with Pen and Lloyd,’ she went on, ‘don’t imagine for one minute you can do the same with us. You might think you’re family, but you’re not. And you never will be. As far as Rosco and I are concerned, you don’t exist. So why don’t you go back to wherever you’re from and leave us alone?’

A cheery voice rang out. ‘Rosco! Scarlet! You made it.’ It was Stirling. ‘I’d given up on you. And I see you’ve met Katie. Excellent.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Excellent,’ he repeated. He was talking much too fast. A sure sign, even to Katie’s ears, that he wasn’t feeling anywhere near as cheerful as he was making out.

‘Yes,’ Rosco said, his hand pressing at the small of his sister’s back, ‘we were just getting to know one another. Now we’d better go and find Auntie Pen.’ He gave his sister a little shove. ‘We really must congratulate her on her hard work. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the garden looking so good.’ Leaving Stirling looking awkwardly on, they moved off quickly.

When they were out of earshot, Stirling said, ‘How did that go?’

Katie tried to give him a smile of encouragement – that sure, everything was hunky-dory and in apple-pie order – but she couldn’t quite manage it. ‘Let’s just say the ice has been broken,’ she said evasively.

Lloyd had been ordered by Pen to take Katie out for dinner. Apparently she not only deserved it but was in need of a change of scene. This was news to Katie, but she was more than happy to go along with the arrangement. As was Lloyd. But only once it had been established that Speedy Sue and Posh Pam were spending the evening at The Meadows with Pen. ‘Don’t you worry about us,’ Speedy Sue had said. ‘We three witches will cook something up in our cauldron for supper. Off you go.’

They had walked to the Riverside, the pub where Katie had stopped for lunch the first time she’d come to Sandiford. Lloyd had booked ahead and they had a table with an uninterrupted view of the river. It was a beautiful warm evening, the kind of evening when everything felt in harmony, and with their food ordered and a bottle of smooth plummy red wine chosen, they sat back and relaxed. A boat came into view. Low in the water and stylishly streamlined, it looked very classy. ‘That’s a smart boat,’ Katie said, imagining herself all glammed up and sitting in the back of it with a glass of champagne.

‘You have excellent taste,’ Lloyd replied.

‘It looks like something out of a film.’

He smiled. ‘It’s a slipper launch, and to my mind it’s one of the best crafts on the river. Mighty pricey, though. Stirling has one. You should get him to take you out in it.’

‘Just so long as Rosco and Scarlet don’t want to join us. Knowing how fond they are of me, the first opportunity they got, they’d push me overboard.’

‘Hey, don’t go all paranoid on me now.’

She laughed. ‘Not paranoid, just stating a fact. They hate me.’

He raised his glass. ‘Welcome to the club.’

‘Goodness, I hope the membership is exclusive. I don’t want to be a member of just any old club. Do you have a boat? Is it de rigueur to have one if you live here?’

‘Not de rigueur at all. But I do have an old rowing boat, which I keep at Mum’s. I haven’t used it in a long while. No time these days.’

‘Are you a rower? I mean a proper rower?’

‘Not competitively, if that’s what you mean. I did a bit when I was younger, and then at college. But I wasn’t in the same league as some of the guys there. I didn’t have the same hunger as they did.’

‘And Rosco? I bet he was a killer rower?’

Lloyd shook his head. ‘Rosco never really got into it, for the simple fact he’s not a team player.’

‘And you are?’

‘When I want to be, yes.’

Their food arrived, and after they’d sorted themselves out with napkins, salt and pepper and topped up their glasses, Katie said, ‘Thank you for bringing me here. It’s lovely.’

He shrugged. ‘Not like I had a choice.’

‘Thanks a bunch!’

He laughed. ‘I was on the verge of suggesting it anyway but didn’t want to leave Mum on her own. How’s the duck?’

‘Delicious. And your steak?’

‘As good as ever.’

‘Do you eat here a lot?’

‘Not especially. Just now and then. Actually, I used to work here as a teenager. Then when I was old enough I worked behind the bar.’ He smiled. ‘It was a good way to meet girls.’

Curious, just as she’d been from the moment they’d met, Katie said, ‘So, Cousin Lloyd, what’s your situation, then?’

He looked at her blankly.

‘What’s your dating situation currently? Anyone on the scene? Or behind the scenes, maybe? A secret lover, for instance.’ She realized her gaffe too late: his jaw tightened and he looked away.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, appalled. ‘Me and my monster big mouth, we go back a long way.’

He drank some of his wine, then slowly put his glass down. ‘It’s OK, it’s me, I’m being overly sensitive.’

‘The hell you are! It’s me being a total idiot. But seriously, I am sorry.’

‘No need to turn into a serial apologist; once was quite enough. And as for my situation, there’s no one on the scene currently. There was last year but it fizzled out.’

‘I know the feeling. And there’s been no one since then?’

‘Nope.’

‘Why’s that, then? The girls round here don’t know a good thing when they see it, or are you too picky?’

An eyebrow raised, he said, ‘You’re making the assumption that I’m straight.’

She tutted and wagged a finger at him. ‘My friend Zac has taught me all I need to know on that score. Trust me, I’d know if you were gay, and you’re not, Cousin Lloyd.’

He put a piece of steak into his mouth, chewed on it slowly, then said, ‘Can I ask you something?’

She shook her head. ‘Sorry, the game doesn’t work that way. Only I’m allowed to ask questions.’

‘That doesn’t sound very fair.’

‘Who said anything about fairness?’

‘I don’t think this change-of-scene idea is working out too well. I liked you better back at home. You played nicely then.’

She smiled and flung her arms out either side of her. ‘
Tadaar!
Meet the real Katie Lavender!’

He smiled too. ‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Katie Lavender. Great name, by the way.’

‘Nightingale is also pretty good.’

‘Strictly speaking you’re a Nightingale as well. Miss Lavender-Nightingale. Or would you prefer Miss Nightingale-Lavender?’

‘Neither. I’m a Lavender through and through.’

‘Don’t you think there’s anything of Stirling in you?’

The question caught her unawares. ‘I don’t know. I suppose that’s what I want to find out. You see, as soon as I knew about him, I felt different about myself. I suddenly didn’t feel like I was
me
any more. I came here to find him, to see if getting to know him would resolve that feeling.’

‘And has it?’

‘No. No it hasn’t. I still feel confused. I like him, I like him more than I expected to, but I don’t know what he could ever be to me.’

‘Perhaps it’s too soon to know. You’ve scarcely had a chance to get to know him. You have to give it longer.’

‘You’re right. Patience isn’t one of my strong suits, I guess. And I don’t like things out of kilter. I like everything to be neat and tidy. I’m naturally very organized.’

He smiled.

‘You don’t think I am?’

‘Oh no, I know you’re a neat-freak. I saw your house in Brighton, remember? And I’ve seen the way you cook, you’re constantly cleaning up after yourself. No, I was smiling because Stirling is exactly the same. He’s the most obsessively organized person I know.’

She thought about this, recalling how Mum and Dad used to tease her for always tidying after them – neither of them could ever put anything away. As a young child she would spend ages lining up her toys, straightening the books on the shelf above her bed and keeping her wardrobe and chest of drawers in order.

‘So who do you most take after?’ she asked. ‘Pen or your father?’

‘I’m probably more like Pen; I have her creative flair rather than Dad’s business acumen. But I believe who we are is a mixture of genes and the influence of our surroundings in our formative years.’