stalked in and jumped on to his knee, purring thunderously.
‘What happened at the meeting about Mrs Wilkinson?’ he asked.
Etta didn’t want to drop Bonny in it.
‘Lester Bolton was horribly persuasive and turned people against Marius,’ she stammered. ‘Some members are finding it difficult to pay their monthly subscription.’
You included, thought Valent.
‘Should have rung me,’ he chided her, ‘I’d have sorted it. Here’s my mobile number,’ he handed her a card, ‘if you get any trouble.’
As she got up to fill his glass, her dressing gown fell open again to show little purple feet.
‘Why aren’t you wearing slippers?’
‘Priceless ate them,’ said Etta.
They chatted about the yard. Everyone was happier without Michelle, Rafiq was doing well and had won several races. Furious had disgraced himself running the wrong way at the start at Towcester, then spinning round, which would have upset most jockeys, had caught up and overtaken the rest of the field.
‘Marius was ecstatic. He thinks if he can stabilize Furious a little, he’s got a world-beater,’ said Etta.
Gwenny settled between Valent’s thighs, purring like distant farm machinery.
‘How was the food tonight?’
‘Smashing, congratulations.’
‘I didn’t cook it. It came from William’s Kitchen.’
As he burst out laughing, Valent’s weary face lifted.
‘Trixie told everyone you’d cooked it all, so a bitch called Blanche Osborne hardly touched anything.’ Oh God, he hoped he hadn’t hurt Etta, but she looked delighted.
‘I’m so pleased you didn’t like her, she always made me feel so hopeless.’
‘She told Corinna to cut her hair, imagine how that went down.’
Neither of them mentioned Bonny, although Valent longed to pour his heart out. How Bonny had demoralized him, who’d always been pretty sure of himself. How he now doubted his taste in houses, in clothes – he was so glad his overcoat was covering the poncy flowered shirt. Bonny had made him so aware of his ignorance of the arts. She was always criticizing his pronunciation, his manners. Was he making a complete fool of himself, running after someone half his age? One of the reasons he had agreed to go tonight was because he had assumed Etta would be there and she made him feel safe.
Turning to the bookshelves and the books piled up beside them, he found novels and the volumes of poetry Martin had mentioned so dismissively.
‘I’ve never read mooch poetry,’ he confessed.
‘Borrow this.’ Etta handed him the Everyman Book of Poetry. ‘It’s full of lovely stuff.’
‘Thunk you, I must go.’ Valent took the book and dropped a reluctant Gwenny gently on the floor. He didn’t want to burden Etta with his problems.
On his way back to Badger’s Court he slipped twice on the path and only saved himself by clutching on to willow branches.
Earlier, back at Harvest Home, having asked Romy why she was such a fucking bitch, Seth wandered into the kitchen to find Trixie furiously chucking pudding plates into the dishwasher. Sliding his hands inside her flowered blazer, encountering bare flesh, he caressed the undersides of her breasts with his little fingers, squeezing her hardening nipples between his first and second fingers.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ he murmured.
For a second Trixie’s resistance faltered and she dropped her head back against his chest, then she said, ‘You effing won’t. I only live next door, if you’d forgotten. And I don’t know which is more seriously retarded: voting to sell Mrs Wilkinson or trying to shag Aunt Romy. How could you!’
Wriggling out of his grasp, she escaped out of the back door into the freezing night. Reaching Russet House, finding neither of her parents home, she wandered down the garden and, oblivious of the cold, lurked in the trees.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, Seth and Bonny emerged and set out not down through the wood but along the road towards Badger’s Court. Unable to hear what they were saying, shivering uncontrollably, aching with longing, Trixie retreated to her empty house.
‘I love, I hate,’ she intoned, ‘the cause I know not, but it is excruciating.’
Bonny was no more pleased than Trixie that Seth had asked Romy out to lunch.
‘Only to take the smug smile off her husband’s face,’ protested Seth.
‘I find Martin very charming,’ said Bonny coldly.
‘How would you like to play Amanda in Private Lives for a few weeks?’ asked Seth.
Bonny was excited by the idea, but all thoughts fled out of her head when she got back to Badger’s Court and found no Valent.
Having dropped Bonny off, and left Corinna passed out on Martin and Romy’s sofa – hopefully she might throw up and serve them both right