“Sod off, Bambi!” I hiss, but he doesn’t take any notice. In fact, something’s obviously attracted his interest, because he starts worrying at the tapestry. He’s whining and scratching at it. Then he suddenly barks in his loud, yappy way.
“Stop!” I whisper desperately. “Shh!”
But his barking only gets louder, and I tense up in fright. Any moment he’s going to pull the curtain aside like bloody Toto and it’ll be the end.
“What’s Bambi doing?” says Bean in a stagy voice. “Here, Bambi! Come here!”
“I’ve never met Bambi before,” says Joe easily. I hear him push back his chair and head toward the console table. “Let’s see you properly. That’s a lovely collar you’re wearing. Come here, boy!”
Peeping round the side of the tapestry, I see Joe taking hold of the protesting Bambi with a firm grasp.
“Beautiful dog!” he exclaims loudly, then adds sotto voce to me, “How’s the mission going?”
“Terrible,” I whisper back. “And I’m starving. If you could just pinch me about six cheesecakes and a chocolate mousse, that would be great.”
I catch a flash of Joe’s face, looking amused.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he murmurs, then stands up, still holding Bambi. “You’d like to be let out?” he says to Bambi, as though the dog is speaking to him. “Good idea! Is that OK?” he adds casually to Krista. “He seems a bit freaked out. I’ll take him to somewhere quiet.”
To my utmost relief, he strides all the way through the dining room and sitting room and dispatches Bambi into the hall, closing the door on him. I watch with one eye as Joe returns to the table. He takes a few mouthfuls of pavlova, not talking to anyone, his eyes distant. Then, as if with a sudden thought, he pulls out his phone and says to Krista, “I do apologize, but I need to send an urgent text. It’s a fairly important medical emergency.”
“A medical emergency!” breathes Lacey. “Oh, Dr. Joe! What is it?”
“I’ll leave the table…” Joe begins to stand up, but Krista bats him down again with an ingratiating smile.
“Don’t be silly! We’re all family here. Send your text, Joe.”
“Thanks.” Joe gives her a brief smile, then starts to type. A moment later, my phone lights up with a message from him.
You should try to stretch your legs. You’ll get DVT in there.
Automatically, I try to extend one of my legs, but I can’t—it’s a ridiculous idea—so I type a reply:
No I won’t. Anyway, if I do, Humph will cure me with the Spinken method.
I send it, then watch Joe reading it, his mouth twitching.
“Everything all right?” says Lacey, who is also watching him, agog.
“Patient’s being a bit obstinate,” says Joe, and flicks his eyes briefly my way—which Bean notices. She stares at his phone incredulously, then glances toward the console table. Then she gets out her own phone.
“So sorry!” she says to Krista in stilted tones. “But Joe’s reminded me, I need to send a text too. It’s a…um…a plumbing emergency.” She types quickly, and moments later my phone lights up with her message.
What are you DOING????
Without pausing, I send a reply:
Hiding. Rixo dress looks nice, by the way.
I stifle a giggle as I see Bean’s cheeks flame. She looks down at the dress guiltily, then toward me. Honestly, she’s going to give me away! Quickly I type a follow-up:
Don’t worry, you look lovely in it. x
Then, in sudden inspiration, I create a new group: Bean and Joe, and send them a joint WhatsApp:
Guess what?? Krista’s Spanx are in the blue pot on the sideboard. She took them off. I saw her.
As Bean reads my message, she gives a violent gulp of suppressed laughter. A moment later, Joe makes a tiny snorting noise. He raises his head from his phone, looks at Krista, then at the blue pot, then straight at Bean, who makes another desperate snuffling sound.
“That’s a beautiful blue pot over there,” he says, deadpan. “Don’t you think, Bean? I’ve never noticed it before, but it’s a work of art.”
“Oh yes,” says Bean, in a wobbly voice which means she’s on the verge of giggles. “It’s lovely.”
“Striking.” Joe nods. “Shall we have a closer look at it? Krista, would you mind?”
For a moment, Krista stares back, her brows lowered, as though she can’t tell if she’s been caught out or not. Then, in strident tones, she exclaims, “A toast!” She leaps to her feet, brandishing a wineglass. “Here’s to you, Tony, my handsome hero.”