‘Can you scoot along a bit and make room?’ Tati asked Logan sweetly.
‘Of course.’ Unaware that there was anything amiss, the little girl did as she was asked, bumping into Jason, who in turn squeezed up against his mother. In order to give Angela room to breathe, Brett found himself being pressed uncomfortably against the wall.
Aware that he looked like a fool, he stood up, muttering expletives under his breath and indicating with an angry jerk of the head that the family should do the same. One by one they filed out to take communion, right past Tatiana. To Brett’s immense irritation, Logan gave Tati a hug. Jason smiled shyly. Angela kept acknowledgements to a brief but cordial nod. Brett deliberately knocked into her as he pushed past, his face like thunder.
‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed in her ear.
‘Praying,’ Tatiana responded pithily. ‘For strength.’
‘You could have sat somewhere else,’ Brett growled.
‘I could indeed.’ Tati met his gaze unwaveringly ‘And so could you. You’d better hurry, Mr Cranley, or there’ll be no more salvation left.’
Once communion was over, the Cranleys filed back into their seats. Brett had hoped to shove Tatiana down to the wall end and wedge her in there, but Logan was the first back to the pew. When Tatiana stepped to one side to let her in, she obligingly skipped along to the end herself, leaving Jason and Angela no choice but to follow suit. This left Brett in the uncomfortable position of standing next to Tati for the final hymn – ‘Guide Me Oh Thou Great Redeemer’ – and being forced to sing, one of the few things in life he was profoundly bad at.
Tatiana wisely said nothing, staring resolutely ahead until the church doors opened and people began pouring out onto the village green. But Brett was sure he saw the faintest hint of a smirk playing around her lips beneath that oh-so-demure veil.
One of these days I’m going to fuck that girl and hear her beg me not to stop, he thought furiously.
On the face of it, all Tatiana had done this morning was to arrive late to church and sit down in her normal seat. If Brett took issue with her publicly he would look like a prize fool. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d already been made a fool of, shown up as a charlatan. By reclaiming her pew with such dignified, quiet entitlement, she’d made him look as though he was playing at being lord of the manor, in front of the entire village. It was the same strategy she was trying to use in court, to turf him out of Furlings. Next to Tatiana, Brett Cranley and his family had been made to look like cheap, shoddy imitations of the real thing. From her attention-grabbing entrance to that outfit that made her look like Lady Mary from Downton bloody Abbey, Tatiana had succeeded in embarrassing him in as subtle, underhand a way as possible.
His face reddening like a ripe pepper, Brett rounded up his family and practically dragged them out of the churchyard.
Sidling up to Tatiana, Dylan Pritchard Jones slipped an arm around her waist.
‘Bravo,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘I do believe you rattled him.’
‘I’m not sure one can rattle a snake,’ Tati said dolefully.
‘You know, the funny thing is, for a moment there, all wedged into the same pew like that, you almost looked like a family,’ said Dylan.
Tati looked horrified. ‘We did not. Please, don’t ever say that.’
‘But it’s true,’ said Dylan. ‘Logan obviously adores you.’
‘Yes, well. She’s a sweetie,’ Tati admitted.
‘And the brother was all smiles.’
‘Jason’s sweet too,’ said Tati.
‘Exactly. And Angela Cranley’s a lovely woman.’ Catching Tati’s questioning look, Dylan added swiftly, ‘I mean she’s nice. Kind. Not the sort of person who’d try to do anyone down. If it weren’t for the horrible dad, I reckon they’d welcome you with open arms.’
Tati looked at him frostily. God, she was magnificent in that suit and hat. Like Wallis Simpson without the vulgarity.
‘I don’t want to be welcomed into the Cranley family, thank you very much,’ she said caustically. ‘I want my inheritance. And I’m damn well going to get it.’
‘Come on,’ said Dylan, who suddenly felt in desperate need of a hair of the dog. ‘Let’s go to the pub. I’ll buy you lunch and let you rant for a whole hour.’
Spotting Gabe and Laura Baxter about to leave, Tati said, ‘Sounds good, thanks. I’ll meet you there.’
Running across the green, she tapped Gabe hard on the shoulder.
‘I suppose you think you’re clever, do you?’ she said accusingly. ‘Getting your grubby little hands on my fields.’
‘Good morning, Tatiana,’ Gabe smiled. Turning to Laura he said, ‘You go on ahead, darling. I’ll catch up with you.’
‘When I win my court case in September, I’ll have your deeds to that land revoked,’ Tati told him furiously.