Taggie was Declan’s teenage daughter; he was committed to Cameron, who was already paranoid about Taggie, and there were deadly serious things like franchises to be won.
Then, in the light from a street-lamp in Cheltenham, he caught sight of Taggie. Everything seemed to turn upwards, her nose, her long sooty eyelashes, her adorably short upper lip, and those beautifully soft breasts, which he’d dreamed of the other night. His conscience lost.
‘Would you like some dinner?’
‘Oh yes, please,’ said Taggie joyfully. ‘If you’re sure you’re not too tired and I look smart enough?’
‘Never, never get smart,’ said Rupert. ‘I loathe done-up women.’
‘They’re such adorable children,’ said Taggie. ‘And so beautiful. Not surprising really with such a beautiful mother.’ In the darkness of the car, now they were out of the town, it seemed easier to talk. ‘Is it absolutely agony every time you see her again?’
‘Agony,’ said Rupert soulfully. Then, shooting a sideways glance at Taggie, he explained, ‘Because she bores the fucking tits off me.’
Taggie gave a gasp of shocked laughter.
‘I can’t think how the hell I stayed married to her for seven years. While you were upstairs, she gave me the entire plot of the Italian film they’d seen that afternoon, and, if Malise hadn’t shut her up, we’d have had a five-act analysis of Midsummer Night’s Dream. How he puts up with it!’
‘He seems very nice,’ said Taggie, ‘but he’s almost like a grandfather to the children.’
‘Thirty years older than Helen,’ said Rupert, ‘but he’s made her very happy.’
‘And what happened to you after she walked out?’ asked Taggie.
‘Oh well, I had one or two fish of my own I was frying at the time,’ admitted Rupert. ‘But the fat began to spit too much, so I backed off. Then I had a long stint with an engaging tramp called Beattie Johnson, and then a few games of tennis with Sarah Stratton.’
‘Oh God,’ moaned Taggie.
Rupert laughed. ‘I’m half-tempted to stop the car and see how much you’re blushing. Were you terribly shocked when you saw us?’
‘Yes, no, yes,’ mumbled Taggie. ‘More for Gertrude, really. She’s led such a sheltered life. It must have been awful all those fire engines turning up.’
‘We were bloody lucky,’ said Rupert. ‘Cameron tells me that the Corinium newsroom give the Cotchester Fire Brigade so much booze at Christmas that invariably the firemen tip them off and keep their hoses running until the television crew arrive. Sarah and I in the buff would have been a sensation on “Cotswold Round-Up”.’
Taggie giggled. She didn’t like to tell him how much in the last few months the memory of his oiled, mahogany-tanned, wonderfully constructed body had haunted her dreams.
The White Elephant at Painswick was packed and taking last orders, but still managed to find a corner for Rupert. Taggie fled to the loo. All she had in her bag was a defunct mascara wand, a comb, some scent and a picture of Claudius. If only she could clean her teeth. She made do with soaking the roller towel, rubbing some soap on it, rubbing her teeth, then rinsing her mouth out with water. Then she de-tangled her hair and put it back in its ponytail.
When she got back to the table, Rupert, realizing she would be totally floored by the French menu, had ordered a bottle of Pouilly Fumé and smoked salmon and scrambled eggs for both of them.
‘And you’re going to eat the lot.’
At first they discussed the children.
‘I wish they got on better with Cameron,’ sighed Rupert, ‘but, being totally unused to children, she makes neither extra beds nor allowances.’
It was good that they could talk about Cameron naturally now, thought Taggie, suddenly longing to touch the fan of fine lines at the corner of Rupert’s eyes. Perhaps she could become his long-term confidante, and even when he was eighty, he’d come roaring over to The Priory and tell her he’d met some marvellous new fifty-year-old. At least it’d be better than not seeing him.
‘Does it still upset you going to the Horse of the Year Show when you’re not winning all the cups any more?’ she asked tentatively.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s why I wanted you to come along last week — ’ he took her hand — ‘to hold my hand. I don’t think I realized at the time how desperately I minded giving up. Just stopping overnight after the World Championship, burying myself in politics, refusing to recognize I was suffering from withdrawal symptoms far worse than any junkie. There’s so little time to think while you’re show jumping. Even on those interminable drives there was always Billy to yak to, or some horse to natter about, always something to look forward to, a prize to be won, someone else’s time to be beaten, a horse to be sorted out, a girl to be laid. I suppose I never gave myself time to grow up, and when Helen buggered off I blocked that out too.’
Still holding her hand, he looked into her loving, infinitely understanding and sympathetic eyes. Christ, he’d never admitted things like this to anyone, not even Billy. Then she asked the same question: ‘Does it still hurt seeing Helen?’
Rupert shrugged. ‘I got bored with hating her, I guess. The only thing that really irks me is that Malise succeeded where I failed. I can’t honestly say I’ve ever made any woman happy, or not for very long.’
‘You make me very happy,’ said Taggie gruffly.
For a second they gazed at each other and he watched the colour mounting in her cheeks.
‘I’d like to try,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll just pay the bill and we’ll go.’
As he drove her slowly back to Penscombe, Chris de Burgh was singing ‘Lady in Red’ on the car radio. It was such a beautiful night. The moon was hiding behind a vast ebony cloud shaped like a yew tree, tipping its edges with silver; the rest of the pearly grey sky was threaded with stars. A few windows were still lit up in the village like cardboard cut-outs.
Just before he reached the right turn up the long chestnut avenue to Penscombe Court, Rupert slowed the car down almost to a standstill and raised a finger to Taggie’s cheek.
‘Are you quite sure, angel?’
He could feel her cheekbone rubbing frantically against his finger as she nodded. Totally adrift with love, she had no thought of refusing.
‘Fucking hell,’ howled Rupert, as they drew up outside the house. Parked outside, beside Taggie’s car, was a Lotus. In the moonlight it could have been any dark colour.
Cameron, thought Taggie in horror.
But the girl who came out of the front door had thick lustrous hair, as golden yellow as the sycamore leaves swirling across the gravel. It was Sarah Stratton. Sobbing, she threw herself into Rupert’s arms.
‘I must talk to you.’
‘I must go,’ said Taggie.
‘No, don’t,’ said Rupert sharply. Then, realizing what he was saying, added, ‘Well, it is a bit late. We’ll check through the rest of those names tomorrow, and we’ll tackle the southern part of the region later in the week.’
‘Oh, the fucking franchise,’ screamed Sarah.
Leaving time only to squeeze Taggie’s hand and say he’d ring her tomorrow, Rupert took Sarah into the drawing-room, where she collapsed sobbing on the sofa. The temperature suddenly seemed to have dropped several degrees. The house felt horribly cold and empty without Taggie and the children.
It was a few minutes before he could get any sense out of Sarah. Evidently James Vereker had given her the bullet.
‘Tony ordered him to. He said everyone was gossiping about me and James, and it doesn’t do Corinium’s reputation any good in a franchise year. Jesus, and when you think of the way he was carrying on with Cameron.’