The Dinner Guest by B Walter (best short books to read txt) 📕

When my mother comes in with the tea, she sets it down and takes one of the seats to the side.

‘You don’t seem surprised,’ I say in a quiet voice, not looking at her.

‘No,’ she says, with a sigh.

‘You knew?’ I look at her now, unable to keep the accusation from my voice.

‘I found out a few days ago. The day before Matthew … before Matthew died. I didn’t think you knew.’ She nudges one of the cups of tea towards me. ‘Drink some of that. It will help.’

I take some of the tea, but it’s too hot to drink so I set it back down and look at my trembling hands in my lap.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ my mother asks, her voice low and understanding.

‘I think … I think I’ve had a bit too much talking for today already.’ I lie back, letting the sofa take my weight and draw a slow breath in through my nose, then out through my mouth. Then something occurs to me. ‘What was in that box you were carrying?’

My mother straightens up. ‘Oh, goodness, yes, hold on.’ She sets down her cup, gets up, and walks out of the room. Returning a few seconds later with the grey cardboard box in her arms, she sits back down in her chair and takes off the lid. I can’t see its contents from my angle on the sofa, and she doesn’t show me immediately.

‘I would understand if you’d prefer not to go into this now, what with … everything. But I think this could be important.’

My interest is piqued. ‘What is it?’ I ask, leaning forward.

She takes a deep breath. ‘I think I’ve worked out who Rachel really is. Or at least, I know where I’ve seen her before.’

Chapter Thirty-Two Charlie

Less than a week to go

I stared around, at both him, then at Rupert, who looked just as puzzled as I felt.

‘Is everything all right, Matthew?’ he asked. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘No,’ Matthew said, so bluntly it sounded almost aggressive. ‘We just need to leave. Where’s Titus?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t know. Somewhere around, I guess.’ I gestured my free hand vaguely at our surroundings. The grounds were extensive and far-reaching, with a whole other garden area, like something from a children’s fairy tale, stretching into the distance behind a stone wall that snaked around the property. If Titus had gone in there, I thought, it could take hours to find him, although it was more likely we’d find him chatting to Pippa round near the pool or helping himself to champagne.

‘We need to look for him. Now.’

He started walking, dragging me along. I could see Rupert wasn’t sure if he should follow or not. He chose to leave us to it, bidding me goodbye with a small nod as I struggled to stop myself tripping up.

‘Let go of me,’ I snapped at Matthew. ‘You’re being ridiculous. I don’t understand why…’

We’d reached a cluster of people, standing around the swimming pool and I realised one of them was my mother. ‘I wondered where both of you were,’ she said, smiling at us. ‘Your father’s talking to that journalist you like in The Times. The one who comments on the media. If you like, we can go over and join—’

‘Have you seen Titus?’ Matthew cut across her, rather rudely in my opinion. My mother looked understandably taken aback.

‘Er … no. Oh yes, hang on, he was talking to Pippa. I think they went off over towards the stables.’

Matthew didn’t offer any sort of reply or explanation, just marched off in the direction of my mother’s suggestion, one hand now glued to his phone as he tried to reach Titus on his mobile.

‘What on earth is going on?’ she asked me. ‘What’s wrong with him?’

I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry, I … I think he might be unwell or something. I’ll see you later.’

I left her looking perplexed and jogged to catch up with my husband, now walking around the little pool huts that were dotted around the swimming pool and towards the edge of the main garden where it merged into a field. When the stables came into sight, Matthew stopped dead so suddenly I crashed into him.

‘What now?’ I asked, feeling seriously annoyed.

He tilted his head, evidently listening. That was when I heard it too. Heavy breathing and gasps. Then a little laugh.

‘I don’t believe it,’ he muttered, then continued to stride towards the first of the stables, walking around the back wall. I followed him round, resulting in us both being confronted by the same sight at the same time.

Titus and Rupert’s niece, Pippa. The latter leaning up against the wall, the former leaning into her.

Pippa noticed us first and shrieked. ‘Oh my gosh!’ She started to bat at Titus’s shoulder as he continued to thrust. Matthew didn’t wait for him to realise; he moved forward and grabbed Titus, extricating the two of them.

‘What the FUCK?’ Titus shouted.

‘What are you doing?’ Matthew raged at him.

Titus was hurriedly trying to pull up his boxers, Pippa flattening down her dress and pulling on her shoes.

‘What does it look like?’ Titus yelled back.

‘You are FIFTEEN!’ Matthew snarled at him, looking angrier than I’d seen him in years. ‘I can’t deal with all this now. Is this what you’ve become? Shagging people behind the stables at wedding anniversaries? You are a CHILD.’

Titus’s face was full of outrage and defiance. ‘I’m tired of always being told what I can and can’t do. I’ve done it your way my whole life and the one time I want to have a bit of fun you just—’

‘FUN?’ Matthew said, grabbing him by his lapels. ‘This isn’t fun; this is beneath you. This is reckless behaviour, the sort of thing your vile, drug-addled, nymphomaniac father would have done.’ He shoved Titus away from him, and I saw the boy’s face change from anger to upset. For a second, Matthew’s reference to Titus’s father confused