by Lotte Moore
“Lunch is ready!” she called to Georgie, who was swinging from a thick branch of the overhanging tree.
“Where’s Daddy?” she asked.
“Over there on the phone.”
Georgie jumped down and raced across, pulling Theo towards the picnic. She took his phone and hid it behind the tree.
“Come on Daddy, it’s our time with you now. We have to share you like a piece of cake before you get gobbled up.”
A wave of guilt washed over him and he gently squeezed his daughter’s hand.
Vivi fed Jago, who was entranced by the tame squirrels darting in and out of the trees.
“That was Sergei wanting to discuss St Petersburg,” said Theo, sitting down on the rug. “He’s arranged a box. Would you mind sharing it with Baba?”
“That would be lovely darling, I’m so excited!” Vivi smiled delightedly, but then caught sight of Georgie’s downcast face.
“Can’t I come too?” pleaded the little girl mournfully. Just then a squirrel jumped onto her plate and scurried off with a biscuit. Distracted, she got up to chase it.
“Is she too young to come to your concert?” whispered Vivi.
“I’d love her to be there, but maybe not quite yet. I’ll get Sergei to record it for her.”
Just then Georgie returned and bounced onto Theo’s lap. “Can we have a pet? A cat or a dog… or a squirrel?” She giggled.
“We’ll see,” said Theo, wrapping his arms round her, relieved that she was no longer unhappy.
Chapter Forty
Kensington
“This is a slow old train. Why ever did you choose it, Cherry Pie?” asked Jonty, gazing out of the window.
“It just seemed a good time to arrive in London,” said Cheryl without looking up from her crochet, which spilled out onto the next seat.
“Mum will have a surprise when she sees us. It was such a good idea of yours, even though we’ll have to come back again on Saturday. Hope her face is better for the party,” Jonty said. Eventually they pulled into Marylebone station. “Let’s be extravagant and get a cab.”
Jonty put his arm up as a taxi swivelled round towards them.
A little later, they stood outside 16 Phillimore Gardens as the bell trilled their arrival. Serena was suitably amazed.
“Ssh, we’re on a surprise visit to see Mum,” Jonty whispered.
“She’s doing some weeding,” said Serena, kissing them both on the cheek.
They walked through to the garden.
“Yoo-hoo!” called Jonty.
“Oh, what a surprise, JJ!” Beady walked towards him and they hugged. “Dear Cheryl, how are you?” Beady bent down to kiss her. “Let’s all have a drink.”
Serena went to make Pimm’s while the others sat on the bench.
“I’m glad to see you’ve made a full recovery,” said Jonty, putting an arm around his mother’s slender shoulders.
“Are you excited about the party?” asked Cheryl.
“Yes, I’m so looking forward to seeing all my old friends. Goodness knows why Serena has ordered a marquee though. Very extravagant. I’m sure we could have got everyone into that lovely big drawing room upstairs. Mind you, she always overdoes things.”
Just then Serena appeared with the drinks. “Where will you have lunch?” she asked.
“What about the pub up the road?” Jonty suggested.
Beady ruffled his hair. “That would be a treat. Will you come too, Serena? Or are you too busy?”
“Afraid so Mum, I have to wait in for the marquee.”
Beady loved seeing Jonty over a delicious lunch in the pub garden. Cheryl made them laugh with stories of the ponies from her riding school.
Finally, the marquee arrived. Five men trundled through the house and drove pegs into the lawn, chattering to each other as they worked. It was erected within two hours, just in time for Serena to dash off to collect Alicia and Freddie from school.
“Now kids, you’ve got to keep out of the way while they move the tables and chairs into the marquee,” Serena warned them.
“Whoa! How exciting,” said Freddie. “Can I watch?”
“I don’t see why not, so long as you’re good.”
“Mummy, I got a star today writing about polar bears,” said Alicia.
Serena congratulated her, distracted by the many tasks ahead of her. They arrived to see a second even bigger lorry outside the house.
“Look at all those chairs,” squeaked Freddie. “Enough for a football match.”
Serena jumped out to greet the delivery men, giving them directions to the marquee in the garden. Beady, Jonty and Cheryl arrived just as both lorries were driving away. They walked through the kitchen.
“My goodness! It does look grand but aren’t there too many chairs?” said Beady.
“There’s enough for all of our guests,” said Serena patiently.
“We must decide the place names of course,” Beady went on. “JJ will sit on one side of me, being the only son. Who shall I have on the other?”
“What about your favourite vicar?” suggested Jonty.
“Yes, or Harry, my old bridge partner,” Beady said.
“I’ve arranged an appointment at the hairdresser for you,” Serena interjected. “How about a manicure too?”
“Not sure I want my hair primped up,” replied Beady warily.
“You’ll look lovely, Mum.”
Beady hated being organised. “I’ll have to think about it,” she mumbled.
Benjie waddled into the kitchen, arms outstretched to Serena. “Mama.”
“He’s a poppet, isn’t he?” said Beady.
“You take him, Mum, I’ve got to dash out for a client,” Serena said handing him to her mother and hurrying out of the room.
“Poor little fellow being left alone,” said Beady, hugging Benjie.
*
Forty-eight hours later, the day of the party finally arrived. Serena woke at 6am and glanced at her long to-do list.
“I must take Mum to the hairdresser at 9am. That’ll keep her away while we lay the tables and place mats.”
As she drew back the curtains she saw it was drizzling. Thank God we’ve got a marquee, she thought.
Alicia teetered into the room wearing Serena’s purple high heels. “Can I have these for the party Mummy?” At that moment she lost her balance and fell on the floor. “Ow!” she cried.
Lang came through the door covered in shaving foam. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I’m trying to be like Mummy, but the shoes hurt too much,” wailed Alicia.
“Breakfast is on the table!” Maggie called up.
Beady was already tucking into a bowl of fruit and yoghurt. Freddie was dripping syrup round his porridge and the table, while Benjie sucked butter off his toast.
“As it’s Mother’s party tonight, Maggie, will you get the children to clear up while I take her to the hairdresser?”
“Yes, Miss Serena. I thought it would help if I took them to the park, so you could get on with the food.” Maggie smiled as she wiped the butter off Benjie.
“Good idea. Oh, and Vivi’s coming to collect them all for lunch,” Serena added.
Twenty minutes later, having dropped Beady at Kool Kutz, Serena strode into the marquee holding all the place names (which had been agreed with Beady the night before). As she began laying them out, Lang brought in the glasses with two bottles of wine for each table. There was no gaiety in him at all, his mind was elsewhere.
Suddenly there was a warbling from his breast pocket,
“Hello Jonty. Yes, she’s here.” He handed Serena the phone.
“What’s the matter with him?” began Jonty. “He sounds very fed up. Anyway, we’ve got all the veg and cheese and will be with you about 4pm. Is that okay?”
“Yes, great. Could you bring two pots of your homemade horseradish?” Serena asked as the doorbell rang. “Hang on a sec, JJ.” She dashed through the house, then yelped, “Oh, the cake looks fantastic c
overed in flowers! Oh but now I’m not sure this seating plan really works.”
“No doubt Beady will change everyone round during the courses much to everyone’s annoyance,” Jonty observed. “Serena, you’re doing a great job, stop fussing. Anyway, listen, I must go, I’ve got to iron Cheryl’s dress.” They both laughed.
Shortly after 11am, presents for Beady arrived. Several plants and bouquets came by special delivery. A fascinating, heavy parcel arrived from Harrods. Serena put them all in a cupboard under the stairs before Beady returned from the hairdresser.
“You look very chic, Mum.”
“Oh, it’s all so tight! They put too much spray on,” moaned Beady, trying to separate the strands across her forehead but thankfully, by mid-afternoon though she was in a more upbeat frame of mind.
“Now, what can I do to help, darling?” she enquired, breezing into the kitchen and wrapping an apron round her dress.
“Could you peel some potatoes ready to roast later?”
“Oh, haven’t you got a more interesting job for me to do than that?”
“Alright, could you lay the left-hand side marquee tables and fold some napkins? Which you always do so well,” Serena added, as she did the other tables in half the time.
“Hi Beady,” said Lang, carrying a large tray with yet more glasses into the marquee. He then reached up to hang some trailing flowers round a pillar.
“That’s charming, Lang. My friends will love the place. I think I’ll have a rest before it all gets exciting.” Beady walked back into the kitchen taking off her apron.
“I’ll come up with a cup of tea at 6pm,” Serena called. Having reached the top of the stairs Beady heard a familiar voice at the door.
“Hello Father Paul. Do come up and say hello. I’m about to have a rest,” she called down as Serena showed him into the sitting room, leaving his case in the hall.
Beady was rather miffed that he didn’t come straight up to see her, though by now she was lying down under the duvet.
“Would you like tea or something stronger?” asked Serena once the priest had settled himself comfortably.
“I’ll have whisky with a dash, please. This is a beautiful place.”
They chatted for ten minutes then Serena said, “Shall I show you upstairs? Your bedroom is on the first floor next to Beady’s. There’s a new shower in the bathroom.”
“Oh good. Is there time for me to have one before the party?” he asked.
“Yes, of course. Here we are Father Paul. This room has a lovely view of the garden. See you later.”
As Serena closed the door her mobile rang. “Hi, how are Freddie and Alicia? Was lunch a success?” she asked Vivi.
“Yes. Everything’s fine, but I had an idea. Why not leave them here for the night? Bella can put them to bed.”
“That would be a great help, but you might need to warn her that Freddie falls out sometimes. Oh, but I suppose Alicia will want to be here for the party.”
“Don’t worry. Georgie’s decided they’re going to have their own imaginary one, dressing up in my clothes for a midnight feast,” said Vivi laughing.
“Thanks so much, darling. See you about 7pm—don’t forget the salmon.” Serena turned to see Beady standing by her door.
“Has Father Paul come up yet?”
“Yes,” whispered Serena. “He’s having a shower.”
As the grandfather clock chimed 4pm, the doorbell rang again and Jonty and Cheryl staggered in carrying four trugs overflowing with vegetables. There was a distinct smell of cheese from Cheryl’s handbag.
“Phew! What a journey,” said Jonty. “The leeks fell out onto the platform at Paddington. Several people had to help us rescue them. Here, take the beetroot, they’ll need baking for an hour. Oh, and open your bag Cheryl. Here’s some homemade brie.”
“Thanks JJ, I’d better put that in the fridge,” said Serena.
“No, no! You must let it breathe at room temperature,” enthused Jonty.
Serena smiled. “Right you are. Okay, well I’ll deal with all that later. For now, why don’t I show you both upstairs?”
A minute later they all passed Beady standing at her bedroom door looking glamorous in full makeup, but still in her dressing gown. There were hugs all round, then she whispered, “I think Father Paul is still in the shower. The water’s been running for ages.”
Just then Maggie came running upstairs. “The two young helpers, Issy and Tim, are here. What shall I get them to start on?”
“Jugs of water on all the tables. Fruit juice on the side, then wash the lettuces my brother brought. After that put the olives and crisps out in little baskets,” said Serena, mentally ticking items off her list. “Thanks Maggie.”
Serena went to her bedroom and showered briefly with a fragrant honeysuckle gel, then slipped into a long silk dress. She felt Lang’s hand slowly caress her back as he zipped it up.
“You look stunning my Fig Tree.” She sank onto the dressing table stool as Lang kissed her deeply. “Have you chosen a shirt for me?”
“Yes, it’s on the bed. Shall we give her our presents now with a glass of Champers?” Serena wove blue eye-shadow round her lids and frilled her lashes with mauve mascara.
“Not too strong on the lips darling, just think of all those guests you’ll be kissing!” Lang laughed. He suddenly saw the similarity between mother and daughter vis à vis their use of bright lipstick. They’ll both be doling out red blotches tonight, he thought.
Serena ran into Father Paul descending the stairs with Beady in tow who was asking for all the gossip she’d missed while away.
“Mum, let’s go into the drawing room,” she said.
Just then Lang walked by carrying a crate of Champagne and Serena introduced him to Tim and Issy. She then guided everyone into the warm, lamp-lit lounge where a pile of gifts lay on the table.
“Ooh, this is exciting. I don’t like getting old usually but being here with my family is such fun. It’s almost worth turning seventy for!” said Beady, ripping open Cheryl’s beautifully wrapped present—a home-knitted cardigan. “My favourite colours! Oh Jonty, isn’t she clever?”
Beady hugged Cheryl, slightly marking her cheek with scarlet lipstick.
“This is ours, Mum,” said Serena.
“A handbag full of my favourite cigarillos! How divine and so thoughtful.” She pecked Serena on the cheek, leaving her mark again and smiled at Lang.
“These others are from the children. You’d better open them tomorrow when they’re here,” Serena suggested. Instead, Beady turned to another pile of presents. “Oh look! Two CDs. Theo playing my favourite Rachmaninov and Chopin. Darling, you must be so proud of him.”
“He’s sorry not to be here,” said Vivi. “He is packing for his next tour.”
Everyone was feeling quite bubbly as the first guests arrived.
Sir Ron Duncan, a great admirer (with bad breath and sandals) walked slowly towards Beady. “Hello, my dear girl. You look as wonderful as ever,” he muttered, kissing her hard.
Behind him came Sheena Peet, hobbling with the help of one stick.
“I remember you sitting in your father’s office chatting so fast I couldn’t hear his dictation. You were quite demanding but delightful. Happy birthday!”
Everyone settled round Beady, sinking into sofas and cosy armchairs.
Laughter welcomed Ramsey Baldwin (her eye surgeon), who was handsome with thick white hair and a tanned long face. Handing Beady a book he chuckled, “I think you’ll enjoy this experience.”
“Oh, Ramsey, how good to see you.”
They laughed warmly, holding hands.
Hairdressers Sam and Benny arrived with a tray of Beady’s favourite hair colour and shampoo, both wrapped in gold paper.
“Goodness! How exotic!” Beady hugged them both.
Music filtered into the room as the string quartet began their first Mozart piece. A surge of guests arrived, all bearing gifts.
Lady Sircombe swooped in b
earing an enormous plant.
“This will look glorious in Madeira by your pool—just smell the leaves.” Beady did so as Lady Sircombe clutched the pot. “Aren’t they divine?” She plucked several leaves to smell them.
“Yes. What an amazing scent. Thank you my dear.”
Serena stood poised by the marquee. “Do all come and sit down for dinner.”
As she guided Beady to her seat between Jonty and Father Paul, the birthday girl looked across at an empty seat.
“Who’s missing?”
“Henry Bond hasn’t arrived yet Mum,” said Serena.
“It will be good to see him. We used to play bridge often. Do you remember him, Father Paul?” Beady asked.
“Yes, a big jovial man, ginger beard, owned a shoe shop, came to church twice a year,” replied Father Paul.
Issy and Tim served foie gras to all the tables while Lang helped with the wine. After a short gap filled with buzzing chat, the main course arrived on huge serving dishes. Most ate slowly, almost overwhelmed by the variety of vegetables picked fresh for the party from Jonty’s land.
The doorbell rang during the quartet’s rendering of Mozart’s tender Sonata No. 22, unheard by everyone except Lang. Answering it, he welcomed Henry Bond and the two of them slowly walked towards the marquee, making small talk as they went.
Just as they were about to reach the party, Henry tightly gripped Lang’s arm and suddenly fell across the marquee’s entrance. Lang gasped as the elderly man’s arm slid away from his own.
Serena rushed over, whispering urgently, “Is he alright?”
Lang felt Henry’s faint pulse, then listened to his chest. “No.”
“Oh my God! What can we do?” gasped Serena. “We must call a doctor at once. Get Tim to help move him into your study. Hurry, for God’s sake, the party must go on without Beady knowing or she’ll be destroyed. I’ll go and call Dr Howe. You help with Henry. Make sure he’s covered up with the rug on the sofa.”
Lang hoisted Henry up and headed off to the house.
Luckily, Beady’s table was at the far end of the marquee away from the entrance and several people were getting up to chat to her and offer their presents. But Beady noticed the empty chair again.
