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wearer.
    Perhaps the best part was the luncheon itself, although she sat in a group of Aidan’s choosing. Happily the vein of high-flown technicalities appeared to have dried up, but their pettish talk was mainly of research underfunding, grumbles at the government and (from the more elderly) unpleasant details of ill health.

    Leila refused the offer of liqueurs with the coffee, hoping that Aidan might do the same, but he was set on going the whole hog, by now flushed and self-important. Not that there and then it would be noticeably unique.
    Returning from the ladies’ room she found him alone, strutting about the hall, waving his mobile phone and loudly complaining that he’d sent for the car ten minutes back and the bloody chauffeur hadn’t turned up. When he did, Aidan gave him the Ozymandias brush-off.
    â€˜God,’ he said, leaning back against the cushions, ‘what a lot of boring old farts they are. I’ll be glad to get home.’
    Not more, Leila thought, than she would. There was plenty to do there; at least six tea chests remained to be unpacked from the old house, and family guests were expected tomorrow for lunch.

Chapter 5
    Leila’s Uncle Charles was a big man in several ways, but wherever he was invited and took along his middle-aged mistress, he invariably introduced her as his housekeeper. Leila, feminist rebel over this if nothing else, had once questioned what she considered a slight. Janey, subject of the disagreement, was forthright about it. ‘Housekeep is what I do. Wife I’m not. And what we get up to in the bedroom is between him and me.’
    She was a totally honest woman, or as near as dammit. She had a flat, rectangular face, with a straight nose and high, straight brows set precisely at right angles to it. The parchment-pale flesh over her cheeks fitted tightly to the bony infrastructure so that her lips often drew apart, making her look slightly aghast; which she never was. Her manner was always calmly pragmatic, and Leila was very fond of her.
    They arrived for lunch half an hour early which irritated Aidan although, knowing Charles, he should have expected it. ‘Tell me what I can do to help,’ Janey offered.
    â€˜Sit down, relax and stop fussing, woman,’ Charles growled. ‘Where are your kids, Aidan? Backpacking to Taiwan or prostrate over exams?’
    â€˜Edward’s in the States, fixing himself up with some research into Artificial Intelligence. Chloe’s staying with her grandmother in Nice.’
    If Aidan had hoped to dazzle the older man he was disappointed.
    â€˜So Eddie’s into robotics, eh? Great future in that. Especially in astronavigation. Gone to Houston, I suppose.’
    Leila darted him a glance. His response was too instant and informed. She guessed Eddie had been writing to Charles. Which could indicate he was short of money again.

    (And Charles not even a blood relative, although both children preferred to ignore that shortcoming.)
    â€˜We thought you might like to look over the house,’ she suggested, ‘while I finish getting lunch.’
    Charles sat on over his drink, digging himself out for the guided tour with Aidan just minutes before the hot meal was ready for serving.
    â€˜And the wicked old thing knows exactly what he’s doing,’ Janey remarked confidently, sitting on the kitchen table and swinging her legs like a teenager. ‘As in Alice, “He only does it to annoy/ Because he knows it teases.” I do think you’ve got yourself a lovely house here, Leila.’
    â€˜It will be, I think, but there’s a lot to be done. I’m glad Aidan decided against living in London. I just hope the commuting doesn’t get him down.’
    â€˜A grand new job, a grand new house, with both the kids growing up and away. This will be a quite different lifestyle for you both. So what are your plans?’
    Leila straightened after transferring the roast beef