Tatiana Flint-Hamilton’s voice made Jason jump out of his skin. Spinning around suddenly, he lost his footing and stumbled backwards, falling painfully and embarrassingly on his backside. By the time he scrambled to his feet, his shorts were soaked. Water dripped down his skinny legs as he wrung out his clothing like a wet rag.
‘I didn’t see you there,’ he explained unnecessarily, pulling on his dry T-shirt. Tati was wearing cut-off jeans shorts and a pale green shirt tied at the navel. As usual she looked effortlessly stunning, already lightly tanned after two days sunbathing in the garden, and with her hair tied back in a simple ponytail.
She looked at the lead in his hand. ‘Have you lost Gringo?’
Tati knew the Cranleys’ dog well. Angela often brought him to school when she came to pick up Logan, and all the St Hilda’s children were fond of him.
‘You wouldn’t think it was possible, would you, the great fat lug,’ said Jason. ‘But he wandered off somewhere almost as soon as we left the house.’
‘I’ll help you look for him if you like,’ said Tati.
‘Really? That’s very kind but it might take a while.’
Tati shrugged. ‘I’ve nothing else to do. Besides, I know these woods a lot better than you do. He’s probably down at the rabbit warren, trying his luck. Come on.’
They walked along together, Tati leading the way and chatting idly about nothing in particular while Jason dried off.
‘So how are you finding it, with your folks away?’ Tati threw the question out casually. ‘It must be quiet up at the house.’
‘It is, but I don’t mind that so much,’ said Jason. ‘I’m working most of the time anyway.’
‘Yes. And moonlighting as a pianist in West London clubs,’ said Tati.
Jason went white.
‘I saw you playing at Bar Piccata last Tuesday night,’ she explained. ‘You were very good.’
‘Please don’t tell my father,’ Jason blurted. He felt as if he might be about to throw up.
Tati stopped and turned to look at him. ‘Why on earth would I tell your father? This may have escaped your notice, but your dad and I aren’t exactly bosom buddies.’
‘I know, but he’d hit the roof if he knew. Even if you just let something slip by accident. It would be awful.’ He gave a small, involuntary shudder.
‘I’m not going to let anything slip,’ said Tati. ‘I think it’s great you’re following your dreams.’
‘I don’t know why,’ said Jason, bitterly. ‘It’s not as if they can come to anything. Dad will be back at the end of the summer and everything will go back to normal. He’ll be watching me twenty-four/seven, or having one of his minions do it for him.’
Tati found herself feeling angry, with Brett for bullying his son, but also with Jason for not standing up to his father. ‘You are over age, you know,’ she told him, holding on to a low branch for support as she hopped over a ditch, then waiting while Jason did the same. ‘You can do what you like.’
‘You don’t know my father,’ Jason said, matter-of-factly. ‘He doesn’t care how old I am. He can make my life hell if he wants to. Besides, this is really not the time to piss him off. It’s my twenty-first birthday in May,’ he confided. ‘If I keep sweet with my father till then, I’ll come into my trust fund. That should buy me some independence, at least on paper.’
Tati stifled an unworthy pang of envy. Her trust was tied up so tightly, she’d be lucky to get her hands on any capital before she turned fifty. And here was this boy, not only living in her home, but with talent and freedom and – soon – unlimited funds, but too frightened to take advantage of any of it. If Jason weren’t such a sweetheart, it would be easy to dislike him.
‘What were you doing in Bar Piccata anyway?’ he asked, changing the subject. ‘I didn’t have you pegged as a jazz and salsa fan.’
‘That’s because I’m un-peggable,’ Tati laughed. ‘Actually, I was on a date. This guy I’m seeing took me there. It’s a great place.’
Now it was Jason’s turn to feel jealous. Ridiculously, as of course Tatiana had boyfriends, probably an army of them; and even if she didn’t, she was hardly likely to want to date a shy, nerdy, mildly depressed, social incompetent like him. But he flattered himself Tati was his friend. And Furlings linked them forever. That alone gave him a feeling of ownership, of entitlement, whether it was rational or not.
‘Is he your boyfriend?’ he heard himself asking.
Tati frowned. ‘No. Not yet. I’m not sure if I have room for a boyfriend in my life right now. Not with this court case hanging over me. Plus, he works in London. I can spend time there now, while St Hilda’s are on holiday, but once school starts again I’m stuck here.’
‘There are worse places to be stuck,’ said Jason, looking around them.