a bit muddled occasionally – I should have sat down and thought this through, had a bit of paper in front of me with bullet points – but eventually I got my point across: that my husband’s lover had, moments ago, tied the knot with a man of surely some standing. That she’d seamlessly cruised on in her scheming little way, whilst I groped around in mine. But surely I’d got her this time?
‘And she was so shocked to see me, Sam,’ I rushed on. ‘I’m in the choir, you see, didn’t stalk her or anything, wasn’t lying in wait; she had no idea I’d be there. She must have thought she’d got away with it!’
There was a long silence on the other end. ‘Well, I’m afraid she may have done just that, Poppy,’ he said eventually. ‘You see, it makes no difference whether she marries or not. If she’s entitled to anything, her claim still stands.’
I stared out of my sitting-room window to the road. Felt my tummy shrivel. ‘But – but Simon Devereux is well off! He’s a flipping Sotheby’s expert or something, works in Bond Street –’
‘Christie’s. Yes, I know Simon.’
‘Do you? Oh, well then, you know! His mother practically lives in a mansion – I’ve seen it – and he’ll inherit it, apparently. She can’t take my money and live in the lap of luxury with him, surely!’
‘I’m afraid she can. I’ll look into it, Poppy, but his wealth has nothing whatsoever to do with hers. And marriage, however swift, is not an impediment to claiming on an ex’s estate.’
It was said kindly, but the wind was completely buffeted out of my sails.
‘He wasn’t her ex. He was mine.’
‘I know,’ he said gently. And perhaps with a hint of pity.
I wondered, suddenly, what sort of figure I cut: this wronged, cheated wife, whose husband’s lover was even now greeting her guests at her wedding reception, whilst I was left panicking breathlessly. Rather a pathetic one, that’s what. Someone Frankie might call a loser. All at once my life swam before me. I saw my younger self, charging confidently around London in the Renault Five Dad had bought me and which I’d painted pink, managing three parties a night sometimes, the object of some attention, usually with gorgeous Ben. A winner, surely. How, then, had it come to this? This breathless little widow, still in her coat, hands tightly clasping her mobile, voice getting shriller as she complained to a man she held in some esteem, a man she might even have been looking for an excuse to ring … complained that it simply wasn’t fair? How had I lost so much of myself over the years? Where had it all gone? I felt detached, like a spectator, watching myself seep through holes, like sand disappearing through a clenched fist. Only a tiny bit remaining in the palm.
‘It would be invidious, you see,’ Sam was saying as I sat very still, ‘to discriminate between a woman who was likely to get remarried, and one who was not. A judge can’t possibly say: well, you look like the back of a bus, no one would want you, so we’ll give you lots of money; and to someone like Miss Harding: you can’t have much money because you have every prospect of remarrying.’
‘Have you seen her?’
‘No, of course not.’
But he was imagining her. And he was right. She was good-looking. Not beautiful, but foxy. Sexy, a man would say.
‘But, as I say, I’m not instantly familiar with the law on this. The fact that she and your husband made the money together makes it quite an unusual case. I’ll look into it and get back to you. Steady, Tess.’
‘Tess?’ I blinked. Who was he sharing my most shaming secrets with?
‘My horse,’ he laughed. ‘Sorry, I’m in the saddle at the moment. Riding out with the Armitages. But don’t worry, I hung back when you rang. They’re out of earshot.’
‘The Armitages?’
‘Yes.’
‘The American ones?’
‘Yes, Chad and Hope. They’re keen to go hunting next week so I said I’d lend them a couple of horses from my yard. See how they get on.’
My head swam in bewilderment. I shook it briefly. ‘You’ve lent them …’
‘Two hunters I’ve got spare. They need the exercise, frankly.’
I stared at a damp patch on the wall opposite.
‘Where do you live?’
I couldn’t help it. It just popped out.
‘Mulverton Hall,’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘It’s near Leighton Park; not that far from your village, actually.’
I knew it. Of