Country Plot Read Online Free Page B

her? Cocktails at the Hotel du Cap, or a Thermos of tea in a beach hut in Bexhill? Even at the price of living with the Major . . .’
    â€˜But he’s sweet,’ Sybil protested. ‘I like him.’
    â€˜Well, I’m not likely to have the choice,’ Jenna said, feeling herself choke up. ‘I’m going to end up all alone in a council flat with seven cats. I’ll die and nobody will know, and the cats will eat me.’
    â€˜Oh, that’s absurd,’ Sybil said.
    â€˜It certainly is,’ Oliver said vigorously. ‘You’d never qualify for a council flat.’
    Jenna couldn’t help laughing, though it ended up as a snort forcing its way through the lurking tears. ‘Beast,’ she said.
    Oliver refilled her glass. ‘Seriously now, tell me what happened. Every detail.’
    So she told him. He was wonderful to tell, because he really did want every detail, and he sympathized with her completely. By the time she had talked herself out, they had consumed Sybil’s salmon with ginger and coriander, crushed potatoes and baby pak choi, and were finishing off the second bottle of Meursault before tackling her magnificently boozy tiramisu, Oliver’s favourite pud.
    â€˜He’s a stinker,’ Oliver said in judgement. ‘He doesn’t deserve you.’
    â€˜Definitely not. He’s a rat,’ Sybil agreed.
    â€˜A louse,’ Oliver improved. ‘You shouldn’t have got yourself mixed up with an architect, you know. You can never trust them. You should have picked a nice engineer instead.
Roads and bridges, docks and piers, that’s the stuff for engineers. Wine and women, drugs and sex, that’s the stuff for architects
.’
    Jenna had heard that rhyme before, many times, but it still amused her. ‘Yes, but where am I going to find a nice engineer?’ she objected. ‘You’re married. Anyway, you’re my brother and, to quote Sir Thomas Beecham, you should try everything once, except country dancing and incest.’
    â€˜I don’t think I’m the only one. I’m sure I could set you up with someone if I put my mind to it.’
    â€˜I don’t want to be set up, thank you,’ Jenna said. ‘I’ve had it with this whole relationship thing. I’m so off men, you wouldn’t believe. How do you become a lesbian?’
    â€˜Two members have to put you up,’ Oliver said. ‘And there’s a frightful initiation ceremony. I found out about it by accident and I’m sworn not to divulge. It involves biceps tattoos and Melissa Etheridge CDs. I can’t say more.’ He looked at her seriously. ‘You wouldn’t like it.’
    Jenna laughed, but she cried a bit at the same time. ‘Oh, Oliver, what am I going to
do
?’
    â€˜Oh, darling, everything will sort itself out in the long run. It’s the short term we have to think about – what you’re to do with yourself while you get over it. I’ll bend the mighty brain and come up with something. I’m home for ten days so we’ve got plenty of time to talk everything through. For now, let’s just enjoy pud, and then have coffee and lots of Marc in the drawing room. And some music. I’m so ready to listen to something that doesn’t involve sitars and finger bells!’
    Sybil brought the tiramisu to the table. ‘You ought to take a holiday,’ she advised.
    â€˜No money,’ Jenna said. ‘And with no job, I can’t afford to put it on the credit card. I’m homeless, jobless, loveless, penniless and hopeless. Damn Patrick!’
    Oliver reached across and laid his hand briefly over hers. ‘We’ll sort it out,’ he promised.
    He was such a comfort. And Jenna could see how the tiredness was catching up with him, and could not be so selfish as to keep him talking about her problems now, so she let herself be comforted, and reached for another