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Flick delivered Gertrude s wheelchair and helped her into it.
 Was it a lovely service? Flick asked.
 I need the toilet. My bladder is full to bursting. I think I m leaking, Gertrude
announced in a loud voice.
 Right. Flick propelled her back to the house.
 I blame that doctor who delivered Celia. He wouldn t listen when I told him the
stitches were too tight. It was a terrible infection. The worst they d ever seen.
Flick tried to close her ears but Gertrude continued even in the bathroom. Flick
could hear her in real-time and over the monitor. By the time Flick pushed her back
down to the garden, everyone held a glass of champagne or orange juice. Flick went to
get a glass for Gertrude and then wheeled her chair toward a couple trying, with
limited success, to hide behind a bush. They only emerged when Gertrude called them
by name.
 There s no need to stand so close, Felicity, Gertrude said.  I ll call you if I need
you. The monitor is switched on.
Flick found a quiet spot at the side of a tree and people watched. She was looking
for Beck but Henry caught her eye. He handed her a glass of champagne.
 Hello, Nurse Knyfe, Henry said with a smile.
 Hello to you, Ksiel.
Henry frowned. Flick gasped.
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Barbara Elsborg
 Nope, you ve got me, Henry said.
 Rigid one of God.
He burst out laughing.  Right, I owe you fifty quid.
 Henry, I m sorry I m in this stupid outfit. I was wearing something respectable
over it, but it sort of got lost. How s Giles?
 Headache but otherwise he seems fine. I think he s rather pleased he s done this
while he s got concussion. He ll be able to claim he can t remember a thing. If only I
could do the same.
 You don t mean that.
 Don t I? Enjoy yourself while you still can, Flick.
Moments after Henry walked away, Celia approached with a face like a plate of
mashed potato and gravy. She wore the excavated necklace. It looked lovely now it had
been cleaned. Celia snatched the glass out of Flick s hand and tipped the champagne on
the grass.
 I m paying you to look after my mother, not help yourself to our alcohol and what
on earth are you wearing? How typical of you to go over the top. Take Mother into the
marquee before there s a rush. There s a blanket on her chair. Wrap it around her legs
and be careful. She has delicate skin.
Flick wheeled a protesting Gertrude down the wooden pathway and into the
marquee.
 You re pushing me too fast. It s too bumpy. I m going to need the toilet again.
The marquee was full of fresh flowers and looked fabulous. A string quartet played
in one corner and serving staff lined the perimeter waiting for guests to take their seats.
The folded napkins had the little organza bags at their hearts and Flick thought Willow
must be pleased with the way the tables had turned out. The theme of purple and white
ran throughout the marquee, from the striped awnings lining the roof, to the balloons
and name cards tied to the chairs with purple ribbon, right down to the heart-shaped
confetti on the tables.
 Push me past the cake, Gertrude demanded.
It was a towering monster of a confection, tier upon tier of beautifully iced layers,
decorated with purple flowers and an edible bride and groom on the top that actually
looked like Giles and Willow.
 It looks too good to eat. Flick sighed.
 Cost a bloody fortune, Gertrude said.  It better be delicious.
 The marquee is lovely, Flick tried again.
 I m cold.
Yes, you are, Flick thought. Like an iceberg.
As the marquee began to fill with people looking for their tables, Flick wrapped the
tartan blanket around Gertrude s legs.
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Digging Deeper
 You don t need to stay. You re not a guest. I ll call you on the monitor if I need
you.
 Fine.
Flick slipped out of the tent, now teeming with the well-dressed and well-heeled.
No sign of Beck but she did catch sight of someone she hadn t expected to see. Her
former boss at Grinstead s, Gordon Lowe, headed for a table at the other end of the
marquee. He didn t see her. Flick felt the gloom descend. She stepped out of the
marquee and although the sun still shone, for her the light had been snuffed out. She d
half-joked to Henry about running away. Maybe she should give it serious
consideration. If she had money she could go to Greece and find work in a taverna or
go to Italy and work on an archaeological dig. Beck would come and find her. Yeah,
right. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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