up past Badger’s Court, she was surprised to see Valent coming out of the gates and waved at him gaily but he just stared and didn’t seem to react. Stopping every few minutes to check her face for caked powder or lipstick escaping down wrinkles, she arrived at Calcot Manor, a beautiful sixteenth-century house whose emerald-green lawn defied any hosepipe ban.
Omigod! Omigod! She felt just like Cindy, for there was Seth in the dark of the champagne bar with a bottle of Moët on ice, being drooled at by pretty women at adjacent tables. He looked bronzed and utterly stunning in a dark green shirt and chinos. The beard he was growing to play Benedict had reached the stubbly stage and really suited him in a piratical way.
‘Etta!’ He looked startled. Perhaps she really was looking good. ‘What a coincidence, both of us here on the same day. Have you got time for a drink?’
As Seth was always joking, Etta said she had all the time in the world, at least until she had to pick up the children.
‘Such a thrill,’ the words came tumbling out, ‘I haven’t been asked out to lunch for centuries. Sampson would never let me, and after he was ill it was impossible to get away. Thank you for your dear, dear letter, it’s the naughtiest, loveliest letter I’ve ever had. Even if you were a bit plastered, it’s been such a boost to my ego.’
And Seth poured Etta a large glass of champagne and on no breakfast, she proceeded, as they downed one bottle and started on a second, to get legless. Under his warm, sympathetic, admiring gaze, as she inhaled great wafts of Terre, his sexy aftershave, she was soon telling him about her life with Sampson – ‘I was so in awe of him’ – and how worried she was about Carrie and Alan.
‘Carrie’s a workaholic like Sampson and I’m so sad she and Trixie don’t get on and see so little of each other. I love Alan, he’s so sweet to me, but he’s so wrapped up in his writing.’
‘Could I possibly have your autograph, Seth?’ asked one of the prettier ladies. ‘I’m such a fan of you in Holby City, I wish you’d cure my migraines, and we’re all coming to see you at Stratford.’ As Seth smirked and scribbled, Etta studied the menu, feeling humble. How could such a gorgeous man ask her out to lunch? She was far too nervous to eat much, which ruled out roast pork, so she settled on grilled lamb’s liver and when persuaded to have a starter, opted for melon and smoked duck with grilled figs.
‘Could I possibly have your autograph, Seth?’ asked another beauty.
‘Let’s push off to the dining room,’ muttered Seth.
This was in a conservatory. Outside, the dark green woods merged with parched fields that had turned yellow in the heat. Etta wished the sun wasn’t beating quite so hard on the glass roof, exposing every wrinkle and liver spot and turning her so pink, she should have been keeping cool in the ice bucket.
But Seth was so interested, so kind. In the end she found herself gushing like the Willowwood stream in winter, talking about Trixie, who was adorable but so wild and hadn’t been taking her exams seriously enough. And how difficult she found Romy and Martin.
Seth ended up eating most of Etta’s smoked duck, as well as his risotto.
‘Stefan,’ he told her delightedly, ‘calls adultery “adult-tree”.’
‘Rather like Valent’s mature conifers,’ giggled Etta.
‘Has Romy been unfaithful to Martin?’
‘No, no, I’m sure not.’
‘Has Trixie got a boyfriend?’
‘Well, she had Josh at the yard, but he seems to have moved in permanently with Tresa. Lots of boys ring her up.’
‘Did you commit adult-tree when you were married to Sampson?’
Etta went scarlet. ‘No, no. You’ll be divine as Benedict,’ she gibbered, trying to change the subject. ‘I loved Kenneth Branagh in the part.’
‘“Speak low, if you speak love”,’ murmured Seth, making Etta’s toes curl. ‘Was Sampson unfaithful to you?’
‘Yes,’ said Etta.
‘“Men were deceivers ever,”’ quoted Seth, letting his deep husky voice drop, ‘“One foot in sea and one on shore/To one thing constant never.” Did it hurt terribly?’
‘Yes. No, I got used to it. Hugs, shared jokes, compliments when you’re dressed to go out. These are the things one’s supposed to miss as a widow. I never had them as a wife. Sampson hugged other women.’
‘Poor darling.’ Seth took her hand. ‘Your hair looks so pretty.’