‘What I mean to say,’ he qualified, ‘is that … oh … Sarah, just keep your head on your shoulders, eh? I don’t want to see you taken for a ride.’
I inherited my cautious nature from him and I understood what he was saying. I half agreed with it myself. I didn’t want Jasper to become an indispensable part of my life. I was too afraid of the consequences of losing him.
‘I’m not an idiot, Dad,’ I said.
‘I know you aren’t,’ he replied, and his tone of quiet pride settled me and made me feel that everything was going to be all right.
The rain was still going strong as we followed Jasper up the driveway. The first glimpse of the house through the avenue of poplars made Mum gasp – actually gasp.
‘You didn’t tell me he lived in Downton bloody Abbey,’ said Dad.
‘Don’t be silly. It’s a tenth the size of that. A twentieth, even.’
‘Still, you wouldn’t get much change out of five million for it. Is it too late for me to retrain as an international film director, d’you think?’
‘I think most of his money came from wise investing by his accountant, actually,’ I said, recalling a conversation he’d had on the phone in my hearing. ‘The film earnings aren’t the half of it.’
‘I hope he’s not one of these Amazon types who don’t pay their taxes,’ said Mum, a little tight-lipped.
‘He definitely pays his taxes. He’s a huge supporter of the British film industry and gets really upset when he thinks the government are going to cut grants.’
‘Good.’
We were out of the car now and I was walking a little ahead with Mum while Dad followed more slowly, taking note of the plants and trees in the garden. No doubt he was fixing it all in his memory for next week’s Allotment Club.
Mum nudged me and whispered into my ear.
‘Anyway, I think he’s absolutely gorgeous.’
‘He’s not bad,’ I said, still keeping my cards close.
‘Rich, good-looking, well-mannered.’ She ticked them off on her fingers. ‘But, like Dad says, be careful.’
Careful, eh? I had to admit, the way I’d played our relationship had been many things, but careful wasn’t one of them. I wished I could get rid of this feeling of being in over my head with no idea how to breach the surface again. Perhaps that was what love was. Perhaps I just had to learn to live with it.
Jasper sheltered under the porch roof, waiting for us with a smile.
‘What a beautiful house,’ exclaimed Mum. ‘I don’t suppose you grew up here?’
‘Actually, I did,’ said Jasper, and now it was my turn to gasp.
I hadn’t known that about him. Why hadn’t I known it about him? The knowledge of how little I knew of his background, after all, crept over me, casting me in shadow for the rest of the visit.
Dad brought up the rear and commenced a barrage of gardening-related questions that took us through the hall to the kitchen.
‘I have a gardener,’ said Jasper, when he could get a word in. ‘He’s the man to talk to about it.’
He must have replaced Will, I thought. We had spent the whole summer here minus a groundsman and things had started to grow a bit wild. Everything was perfectly tended again now, though. He had never mentioned a new gardener. We hadn’t talked about it. What on earth did we talk about? I racked my brain. Sex and the Victorians. That was about it. Shouldn’t we be having a few different conversations by now?
‘So, do you want to eat first and have a look round afterwards? Or vice versa?’ asked Jasper, getting pans and utensils out of the big wooden cupboards.
‘We should eat first,’ I said rapidly, remembering something. ‘Pancakes, go on. You do great pancakes. I just need to, uh, powder my nose.’
My familiarity with Jasper’s pancakes might be incriminating evidence of a sexual relationship, but it had just occurred to me that there was evidence even more incriminating to be found if the grand tour was going to include the study.
I hastened up the back stairs and across the hall to the room in question. Yes, they were all out on display in Jasper’s customised umbrella rack in the corner of the room. I picked up the collection of rattan canes, so many canes of varying weights and lengths, and shoved them down the back of his writing desk. There. Now the empty umbrella stand looked weird, but unless you knew, you probably wouldn’t think anything of it.
That bit of damage limitation sorted, I flew upstairs to Jasper’s bedroom. The bed was unmade, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was the set of Velcro cuffs attached to the headboard. I hid them away under the pillows and pulled the covers up over them. Was there anything else? Lube on the nightstand. Into the top drawer it fell.