‘My lord, you are out of date!’ Dylan laughed, a loud, braying, donkey-like sound. I’m sure he didn’t used to laugh like that, thought Tati. Wasn’t he quite attractive when I first met him? ‘I left Jude’s years ago. Got the headship at Lancing. I’m having the time of my life.’
With his sun-bed tan, mouthful of white veneers and once naturally chestnut curls now dyed blonde to cover the grey, Dylan looked more like a television presenter than a headmaster these days. He reminded Tati of a Ken doll: vain, obnoxious and above all fake. If it hadn’t been for the gallon and a half of Gucci aftershave he must have sloshed over himself this morning, Tati was sure she could have smelled the insincerity on his skin.
‘You should drop by some time. It’s a gorgeous campus.’ Under the table, Dylan slipped a hand onto Tati’s bare thigh and squeezed, while flashing his teeth. ‘I’d be happy to show you around, for old times’ sake.’
Oh my God! She shuddered. Is he serious? He actually thinks I might be interested?
‘How kind,’ she said brusquely, removing his hand and inching her chair as far towards Tom’s as it would go. ‘Unfortunately I’m rather busy with Hamilton Hall right now. Both the London schools are oversubscribed. In fact, business is booming so much that we’re opening our first American school next year,’ she couldn’t resist adding.
‘So I hear,’ said Dylan, refilling his wine glass.
Tati frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
No one knew about their planned New York expansion. She hadn’t even officially cleared it with her own board yet, although now that Leon DC had effectively underwritten the new school, their approval was a formality.
‘Did Jason say something to you about New York?’
‘Jason? No, no. It was your beloved father-in-law.’ He nodded across the table to where Brett was deep in conversation with Seb Harwich’s extremely young, extremely beautiful blonde girlfriend. ‘I gather he saw you there last month. Funny how your paths seem to keep on crossing, isn’t it? Now that Brett and Angela are moving Stateside, I expect you’ll be running into each other all the time. Like one big, happy family,’ he added snidely.
Tati put her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the nausea to dissipate. She felt so ghastly it was hard to concentrate, but what Dylan was saying was important. He must be wrong.
‘Brett and Angela aren’t moving,’ she said slowly. ‘They’d never leave Furlings.’
Dylan shrugged. ‘Au contraire. They’re upping sticks. It’s the talk of the village. Well, that and Emma Harwich dropping her knickers again, although quite how that’s still considered news, I couldn’t tell you. Ask Brett yourself if you don’t believe me.’
Tati stared at him mutely. He had to be mistaken. Or perhaps he was saying it just to get a reaction out of her? Dylan had always been a shit-stirrer.
‘Funny, isn’t it, me knowing so much more about your family’s business than you do?’ he smirked.
‘Hilarious,’ said Tati.
As soon as dinner was over, Tati dragged Jason off to one side.
‘Dylan Pritchard Jones told me your parents are moving to America. Is that true?’
‘Apparently so,’ said Jason.
Tati exploded. ‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’
A number of guests turned around to stare at them. Dizzy with the effort of shouting, Tati slumped down onto the nearest chair.
‘For God’s sake, calm down,’ said Jason, pulling up a chair next to her. ‘I didn’t know myself till tonight. Mum told me at dinner.’
‘Don’t you understand what this means?’ said Tati, running her hands through her hair.
‘I don’t think it means anything,’ said Jason. ‘Other than Mum and Dad wanting a fresh start.’
‘Of course it does,’ snapped Tati. ‘It means they’ll sell Furlings. Which means we can buy it.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Jason gently. ‘Dad wouldn’t sell to you – to us – if we were the last buyers on earth.’
‘Of course not. But he’ll sell to someone else. Then we can swoop in and make them an offer they can’t refuse.’
Jason sighed. He wished, for her own sake, that Tati would let go of her fantasies about Furlings.
‘According to Mum they’re not selling at all,’ he told her. ‘Dad’s renting it out. They want to keep their options open. I think Mum would like to come back, eventually.’
While Tati sat in brooding silence taking this in, Logan, looking ravishing in a gold brocade dress and with her long dark hair swept up in Cleopatra-esque coils, came over and accosted Jason. Since she and Brett had buried the hatchet, she had been back living at Furlings over the summer holidays. Both Jason and Tati missed her presence at Eaton Gate and had been looking forward to seeing her today at the wedding.
‘Can Tommy and I cadge a lift back to London with you tonight?’ Logan asked. ‘A friend from college has two extra tickets to the Venom concert tomorrow at the O2.’