‘You’ve got a good turnout. Told you they’d go for this.’
‘Yes. I should hand out my leaflets.’
Adam had printed a cunning little booklet, which masqueraded as a selection of word games and activities, but was laden with religious references and even the odd Biblical text, snuck into the margins in Comic Sans. On the back were details of church services and times. He passed them around the coach, then returned to Julia, who greeted him with one of her rare smiles.
She looked young and a little bit wicked when she smiled, though actually, Adam thought, she had an ageless quality. She was one of those women who looked the same at 50 as they did at 15. Trying to take his mind off the riot breaking out at the back of the coach, he decided to talk to her.
‘Have you always lived in Saxonhurst?’
‘Of course. You know I have. The ancestral pile and all that.’
‘Are your parents still alive?’
‘No. Well, yes. Yes, they are.’
What a strange answer. Adam waited for her to expand.
‘They’re in a home,’ she said shiftily. ‘They aren’t really all there, mentally, you know.’
‘Alzheimer’s?’ he asked sympathetically.
‘No, no, they’ve been there since I was a child.’
‘That must have been hard on you.’
She shrugged. ‘Things seem normal, don’t they, when they’re part of your childhood.’
‘Who took care of you?’
‘My aunt Cordelia. We lived in the house together until she died five years ago. That’s when things started to get ropey for me. She did all the accounts. I’m afraid I’ve no head for figures, none at all.’
‘Maths wasn’t your strong subject at school?’
‘I didn’t go to school.’
‘Oh?’
‘I went to a few. Got expelled from them all. Cordie gave up the ghost and said she’d educate me herself. Except she didn’t really, except in horses and dogs and things of that sort. Animals were her great love.’
‘I can’t picture you as the school troublemaker. What did you do?’
‘Oh, I was a little shit, pardon my French, vicar. But I was. I liked to frighten people. I lived to scare them out of their wits, in fact. And I was very good at it. So good that nobody wanted to share a building with me.’
Adam found himself looking more closely at Julia, at her aquiline features and her cool, challenging eyes. Her dress was always understated, her manner aloof – she was, in so many respects, Evie’s complete opposite. But something about her drew him in today, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
‘I suppose after what happened with your parents – you had some emotional difficulties,’ he surmised.
‘If you say so. You’re a very interesting man, you know,’ she said suddenly, homing in on him.
‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ he floundered.
‘I do. I’m intrigued by you. You seem so – hardcore. And yet you have this ridiculous weak spot. More like a weak crater, actually, miles wide. For that little tart at the back of the bus. What is it about her?’
‘Please don’t talk about her like that.’
‘Why not? She opens her legs for all and sundry and makes no secret of it. Is that what you like about her?’
‘I won’t discuss this.’