She dropped the bits of pastry in the bin, wiped her hands on a paper napkin and walked as calmly as she could along the corridor and into the living room. Avoiding making eye contact with any of the crowd of people in there, she scanned the room for signs of her fiancé. He wasn’t there, but she had a shrewd feeling she knew where she would find him. She went out onto the terrace and, from there, onto the lawn. At the far end, to one side of the rose arbour, was the little lawned area, surrounded by a laurel hedge and accessed through a wooden gate, that was always referred to as the secret garden. In there was a swing bed and lying stretched out on the leaf-patterned seat was David. His eyes were closed and he looked as if he was asleep. Natalie went straight over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.
‘David, wake up.’ Her voice sounded strange to her, half-choked. His eyes opened at once and he sat up. He hadn’t been sleeping, but the dark rings under his eyes testified to how tired he was. In spite of his relaxed pose, his tie was still done up and he had been careful to avoid creasing his trousers, while the grey jacket of his suit was hanging neatly from the side of the frame. He immediately saw that something was wrong. Shifting over to one side, suppressing a yawn, he took her hand and guided her down onto the seat beside him.
‘What’s up, Nat? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’
She took a deep breath and recounted the conversation she had overheard, hoping she could count on his support. However, it soon turned out that her confidence was misplaced. As she came to the end of her tale, he reached for his champagne glass and swallowed half in one big gulp.
‘I’m so sorry you had to hear that, Nat, but you must understand that Mum has a point.’
Natalie couldn’t believe her ears. ‘A point? What’s that supposed to mean, David?’
‘You have been working very hard, after all. She’s right about that.’
‘I’ve been doing a Ph-fucking-D, David. Of course I’ve been working hard.’ She was doing her best to keep her voice down, but it wasn’t easy.
‘And that’s another thing. Since you’ve gone back to being a full-time student, your language has deteriorated most awfully. You never used to swear like that.’
Natalie caught his eye. They had argued about this before. ‘We both did, David, if you remember right. It’s just that you’ve now gone all prim and proper. Listen to yourself. You sound like an old maid.’
‘Don’t be so silly. I’ve told you tons of times, in my position I can’t allow myself to use words like that. It would be more than my job’s worth. And I do think you could make an effort to tone it down a bit, if not for my mother, at least for me.’
‘After what your precious mother has been saying about me, I am very, very close to telling her just what I think of her in good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon.’ For the first time an expression of worry crossed his face.
‘For God’s sake, don’t do that, Nat. My boss is here, after all. You can’t let me down like that as well.’
‘As well? What does that mean? So you think I let you down? Just like your mother and your evil little sister were saying?’
‘Not all the time, Nat. Of course not. But you could make a bit of an effort; nicer clothes, a bit of make-up. Why, you even cut your own hair.’
‘I cut my own hair because I’m living on a student grant and I haven’t got the money to go to expensive hairdressers. And there’s no way I can afford the sort of dresses the women back there are wearing, even if I wanted them.’
‘I’d give you the money. All you have to do is ask.’
‘I haven’t asked you for any money so far and I’ve no intention of starting now. I pay my own way in this world and if I’m not classy enough for you and your precious family, you know what you can do.’ Natalie was furious with him but, deep down, maybe she wasn’t as surprised as all that. For months now she had sensed a change in his priorities, in his allegiance. Now he wasn’t even trying to understand how she had been made to feel. The fact that he was teaming up with his mother to criticise her, painful as it was, wasn’t completely unexpected. ‘Have you got that?’ She could hear the anger in her voice. He could hear it, too.
‘You going to swear at me again? For crying out loud, Nat!’
‘Don’t think I’m not tempted. You’re my fiancé, David. You’re supposed to be on my side. I’ve been working my butt off for three long years now and yet, to them, I’ve just been wasting my time. They called it a hobby.’
‘Well, it is, really, isn’t it? I mean, we both know that you’re going to end up as a mum, looking after our children. You’re never going to make a living out of medieval history now, are you?’
Natalie was speechless for a few moments as she heard the same note of disdain in his voice she had heard from his mother. Finally, she looked up and their eyes met. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? You can’t even begin to imagine what it’s meant to me to have got my PhD. I didn’t do it for kudos, or respect, and it certainly wasn’t for money. I did it for me, for my own personal development, for my future. And yet, all I am to you is a baby-producing machine. Well, like it or not, I’ve chosen my path and I do intend to make a career out of it.’ Her head cleared as she came to the inevitable conclusion. ‘I think maybe you’d be better off with somebody else. Somebody who can provide you with the sort of trophy wife you and your bloody family are looking for.’
He dropped his eyes and turned away, reaching for his jacket. ‘Maybe I would.’ He wasn’t speaking very loud, but she heard every word quite clearly.
‘Then you’d better have this back.’ She found herself twisting the engagement ring from her finger, the sunlight glittering in the cut facets of the cluster of diamonds as she did so. ‘You can tell your mother she doesn’t need to worry any more.’ She thrust the ring at him and headed for the gate. Behind her she heard him call her name, but only very quietly so as not to disturb any of the guests. She ignored him and left.
It was a ten-minute walk to the station. When she got there she discovered that the next train to get her back to Cambridge would not be along for half an hour. She walked right to the far end of the platform and sat down on her own on a bench in the sun. It would have been very easy for her to bury her head in her hands and cry, but she had no intention of letting that happen until she was well away from David and his family. She dug in her bag for a tissue and blew her nose, taking a series of long, slow breaths to calm her racing heart.
She needed to speak to somebody, badly. In Cambridge there was just Amy, her oldest friend, and a few other girls she knew fairly well, and there was her supervisor, with whom she had grown pretty close, but that was about it. It was almost five years now since the crash that had robbed her of her parents. Without brothers and sisters, without her mother to turn to, and without David, that only left one guaranteed shoulder to cry on. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. It was almost three. In France, it would be almost four o’clock. Her grandmother should have woken from her afternoon snooze by now. Natalie flicked through her contacts until she reached Gran and pressed the green button.
It was a while before she answered, but the old voice was unmistakable. ‘Oui, allô.’
‘Hello, Gran. It’s me, Natalie.’ She switched effortlessly into French.
‘Natalie, my darling girl, hello.’ Her mother and her grandparents had always spoken to her in French and Natalie had grown up bilingual as a result. As her doctoral thesis had been on the Cathars of southern