Free The Secrets Between Us by Louise Douglas Page A

pretend you didn’t see her?’ I asked.
    ‘That would be lying,’ said Jamie.
    ‘Come on,’ said Alexander. ‘Let’s get it over with.’

CHAPTER TWELVE
    WE SAT ON comfortable, solid garden furniture on a circular terrace beside a perfectly manicured lawn in what Virginia Churchill called the ‘family’ garden. The lawn was square, surrounded by flower beds, and each bed contained a profusion of different plants. I was no gardener, but I recognized the skill that had gone into the planting; the tumble of contrasting colours was not accidental but designed so that each patch of flowers complemented the next, and behind the flowers were hedges that acted as a perfect backdrop. The centrepiece was a huge old pond, its stoneware overgrown with trailing plants and the dark green water heavy with pale, waxy lilies. Dragonflies black as jet buzzed amongst the water plants. The overall effect reminded me of a romantic painting and, if I had not been so nervous, I would have enjoyed simply sitting and looking.
    As it was, Alexander and I were carefully avoiding one another’s eyes while we were served tea by a middle-aged woman called Mrs Lipton. Mr Churchill – I could never imagine calling him Philip – sat awkwardly on his chair, with one leg stretched out in front of him. He wore worn brown corduroys and a cotton shirt with a cravat. The rim of his hat covered his eyes, but I could see a wide jaw and a chin that was faintly stubbled. His skin was weather-beaten. Veinsbulged on the back of huge, bony hands that were spotted with age.
    When the tea was poured, Mrs Churchill asked Mrs Lipton to fetch some toys for Jamie, and she returned with a child’s archery set. She set the target up at the far end of the garden and, after making sure we had everything we needed, joined the boy to help him put the arrows in his bow, and to retrieve them when they fell short. Within a few moments of Jamie leaving the group, Mr Churchill’s jaw relaxed and his mouth fell open. He began to snore rhythmically.
    The whole situation made me feel awkward and tongue-tied. I could think of nothing to say, so was quiet apart from thanking Mrs Lipton for the refreshments and complimenting the Churchills on their beautiful home and garden.
    ‘It’s very good of you to come and introduce yourself,’ Mrs Churchill said to me. Her voice was clipped and there was more than a hint of sarcasm or perhaps irritation. She passed me a cup of tea. The china was pretty if a little fussy.
    ‘Virginia, I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to turn up unannounced like this,’ Alexander said.
    She made a swatting motion with her hand.
    ‘No, I’m glad you came. You know how anxious I was to find out who this person was you’d engaged to look after our grandson.’
    I smiled and shuffled a little in my seat.
    ‘Well, here she is,’ said Alexander.
    ‘Here I am,’ I said like an idiot.
    ‘You’re not what I imagined,’ Mrs Churchill said.
    ‘What did you imagine, Virginia?’ Alexander asked.
    Virginia ignored him. In a pleasant but loaded voice she said: ‘I know my daughter would never have dreamed of leaving her son in the care of a stranger.’
    Alexander started to object but Mrs Churchill held her hand up to stop him.
    ‘Things being as they are, perhaps, Sarah, you’d bekind enough to tell me what exactly are your childcare qualifications?’
    ‘I …’
    ‘The main thing is that Jamie likes her. And I trust her,’ Alexander said.
    Mrs Churchill leaned forward. Her eyes were blue, pale blue like ice, and her face, although etched with the anxiety and distress she’d endured over the past few weeks, was still strong and determined. It was so close to mine that I could detect a staleness of breath amongst the late-summer warmth of the air. She must have had a bad tooth in her mouth or an infection.
    ‘Do you have any relevant qualifications?’ she asked me.
    ‘Not exactly.’
    ‘Have you worked as a nanny or an au pair before?’
    I