“Yet.”
“Krista’ll put my dad in A&E, if he’s not careful,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “With an overdose of sex games.”
“Sex games?” He raises his eyebrows.
“I got stuck watching her and Dad role-playing this morning. That’s what happens when you spy on your family. You see terrible things. Krista was being a nun.”
“A nun?” Joe erupts in laughter. “Well, she’s imaginative, I’ll give her that.”
“Joe, Mike Woodson reckons she’s planning to rip off Dad,” I say more seriously, suddenly wanting to hear his take on this. “I’m not joking now. He warned Gus at the party.”
“On what grounds?” says Joe, looking taken aback.
“Apparently Krista deliberately targeted Dad. Asked all kinds of questions about him and then made her move. She’s already got a diamond out of him, and now she wants them to open a restaurant together. In Portugal. I’m worried she’s going to run through his money and then dump him.” I look at him anxiously. “What do you think?”
“Huh.” Joe thinks about this for a moment. “Could your dad be ripped off? Isn’t he too savvy for that?”
“I don’t know.” I try to consider the matter honestly. “I think maybe he could be, if he was flattered enough. He’s quite vain.”
“Well, it’s his life,” says Joe. “Maybe someone could gently talk to him, though?”
“Maybe.” I feel my face close up. “Maybe they could. But not me.”
“Hmm,” says Joe noncommittally, then he glances at his watch. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving,” I admit. “I didn’t have any breakfast.”
“Let’s go and find you some, then.” He kisses me. “You need to keep your strength up.”
“Is that a promise?” I wink at him, and he laughs.
As Joe gets dressed in his trousers and linen shirt, I pull on Bean’s T-shirt and jeans, then do a hasty sweep of the tree house, clambering up to the top level and peeking in every corner. But there are no Russian dolls. Just a few old sweet wrappers and a lot of memories.
“So, goodbye, tree house,” I say as we step down off it for the last time.
“I think we gave it a good send-off.” Joe nods.
“Not bad.” I smile at him. “And may I say how smart you’re looking, Dr. Joe?”
“Well, thank you.” Joe puts on a pair of shades and instantly looks even more dashing. “What are your plans now?” he adds, as we make our way through the long grass. “Are you going to the brunch?”
“To the brunch?” I stare at him.
“Yes, to the brunch.” He shrugs, as though he’s talking about the simplest thing in the world. “Why not? Bit of food, bit of drink, say hello to your family…”
Has he heard nothing I’ve been saying this whole time?
“Because I’m not ‘at’ the party, remember? I’m not a guest, remember?”
“I know,” says Joe slowly, as though picking his words carefully. “But I was just thinking. You’re here. Everyone’s here. This is your last chance to…I don’t know. Be all together at Greenoaks. It’s now or never.” He pauses, studying my face warily. “I don’t know what’s gone on between you and your dad. I don’t know the history, and I’m sure it feels toxic…”
“My dad and I communicate in one-word emails these days,” I say, gazing at the ground. “About practical stuff only. It’s grim.”
“It’s unbelievable. You and your dad were always…” He shakes his head. “But even so. You’re part of this family, Effie. And I hate to see you hiding away like some sort of outsider. This is your house too. Your house too,” he repeats with emphasis. “And you want to know what I think? I think you should be able to walk through that front door with your head held high. Proud and strong. Effie Talbot is in the house.”
“Effie Talbot is in the house,” I echo slowly, because I like the sound of that.
“Effie Talbot is in the house.” He pauses and gazes at me intently, as though trying to inspire me. “You can still join in. You can still be part of this. And if you don’t, maybe you’ll always—”
“Shh!” I cut him off in sudden alarm. “Look! It’s Lacey!”
Coming into the field is a figure with stunning red hair, in a pale-pink dress. She waves, and I stiffen, turning my face away.