‘Liam’s always a hit with the ladies,’ replied her sister with a bittersweet smile.
It was quite a makeshift meal. No place mats, no matching cutlery, none of the other accoutrements Diana was used to when she hosted a lunch or simple supper. But it was quite delicious, even though the village stores had apparently never even heard of lemongrass let alone stocked it, forcing Liam to improvise with a bottle of Jif and a garlic bulb.
Although it was drizzling, Rachel pulled the double door all the way back, and it was soothing to watch the rain bounce off the surface of the lake.
Liam asked Sylvia all sorts of questions about the girls. Sylvia was a woman who loved attention, and she was only too happy to talk. Their early Sheffield upbringing was whitewashed from history. Instead, she recalled an idyllic Devon childhood that Diana hardly recognised: Sylvia coping admirably as the loving single mum, summers spent looking for clams and scrambling over rocks lik
e some scene out of an Enid Blyton book. In return, Sylvia lightly quizzed Liam on his own background. Diana recognised the school he had been to as a top-flight day school that she had considered for Charlie before Julian had insisted he go to Harrow.
Sylvia announced that she was fairly certain she had met Liam’s mother at a charity event for the English National Ballet, which Liam reluctantly admitted was quite possible.
He seemed so different from other boyfriends Rachel had brought home. Boys with vague ambitions to be rock stars or poets, even the ones who seemed to be well into middle-age. Diana was relieved to see her mother thaw. She had always felt very mixed emotions about how unequivocally Sylvia had taken her side after the Sunday Post scandal. But she had been right when she had said that Sylvia just needed to spend some quality time with her daughter. To remember all the wonderful things about Rachel, not just the incident involving her newspaper.
‘So, Rachel, Liam tells me you’re thinking of opening a hotel together. I think it’s a marvellous idea,’ said Sylvia, finishing off her generous glass of Chablis.
‘Perhaps,’ Rachel said vaguely.
‘I’ve never been to Thailand,’ Sylvia continued pointedly.
‘You should come,’ encouraged Liam. ‘January is perfect weather. We can go to Ao Nang Park, and it’s never too late to start scuba diving.’
Sylvia laughed coyly. ‘What do you think, Rachel?’ she asked, turning to her daughter.
‘I think we should get your flights booked before you change your mind,’ agreed Rachel.
It was impossible for Diana not to feel warm and fuzzy about what was going on before her. She had no idea if Sylvia would have softened to this extent without Liam’s presence, but he had certainly helped. This man was good for her sister. Rachel had never been lucky in the romance department, never been a flirt. Diana remembered Paul Jones, a good-looking fifth-former in the school they had both attended. Rachel had known him from the swimming team and had started talking about him with increasing regularity, telling Diana and her friend how she had challenged him to a fifty-metre butterfly race, offered to train with him before school. Diana had liked him too. Most of the girls at their school did. But she had realised that men didn’t want a rival, a mate – they wanted a cheerleader. So she had gone to watch school football matches, cheered him on in the swimming team. She had felt guilty when Paul Jones had finally asked her out, trying but failing to convince herself that Rachel didn’t like him anyway. Not like that.
Her sister deserved to be lucky now. She deserved a friend, not a rival.
‘You two should go into London. Have a night out rather than sit here day in, day out. There’s a new restaurant that’s just opened in Covent Garden. Sister restaurant to Casper’s in New York.’
‘I read about that on the plane. Hottest table in London. Which means impossible to get into.’
‘I’m sure I could call reservations for you . . .’
‘Would you?’ asked Liam, looking hopeful.
‘Of course. I’m sure there’s a Denver hotel you could stay in as well, if you really wanted to make a night of it.’
Rachel flashed her a panicked expression, and she knew immediately that it had been a suggestion too far.
‘We should go,’ said Diana finally. ‘I’m exhausted.’
‘Forget you’re on New York time,’ smiled Liam.
She wanted to tell him that it was impossible not to think about New York, but instead she just got up to thank him for lunch.
On the way back to the house, Sylvia linked her arm through her daughter’s.
‘That was nice,’ she said contentedly.
‘Go back and tell her,’ replied Diana.
‘She knows,’ said Sylvia quietly. ‘It was a lovely lunch. Everyone could tell that.’
Diana nodded. She had a feeling that they had turned a corner. That life might just be beginning to get better.
38