“Hopes pinned on the last neighbor for a bit of a class, then,” Yasmin says dryly as they disappear into number three.
“Mum!” Tabby says. “Did you evenlook atAshleigh Stafford just now?”
“I tried not to.”
“Omigod, I can’teven!” Felicia rolls her eyes. “Her eyebrows were onpoint.We should ask her where she gets them done.”
“I think we have different ideas about what constitutes class.” Yasmin pours herself and Blythe more champagne.
“I’m with the twins on this one,” Rhys says. “I thought she was very nicely put together.” He’s staring at Dee Huxley’s lodge, his brows knitted together.
“She’s not made of Legos, Rhys.”
Everyone looks up at the sound of another car, and as an ancient BMW barrels over the potholes, Yasmin feels her dreams slipping away.
If Ashleigh Stafford really were made of Legos, Clemence Northcote would be built from Duplos. Short and dumpy, she has multicolored hair and the dress sense of a toddler at a birthday party.
“Call me Clemmie,” she says when she’s been introduced. “Everybody does!” She nudges her son forward. “A dyma Caleb.”
“Mum, give it a rest, will you?”
“You speak Welsh?” Blythe says. “Gosh, how terribly impressive.”
The woman flushes. “I’m learning. Introductions, hobbies, that sort of thing. I can work from anywhere, and Caleb’s college coursework is all online, so we’re planning on spending a lot of time here. I want to try wild swimming and of course learn the language and—” She looks at Rhys, apparently seized by an idea. “Maybe you could run a conversation class here at The Shore? I read in the papers that Bobby Stafford’s bought a lodge, and you know he has Welsh roots? We could make it a regular thing!”
Rhys looks utterly horrified by the idea. “Shall I show you around your lodge?”
“So lovely to meet you!” Yasmin lies, giving Blythethe look,which means she’s to follow her for a debrief,stat.
The two women are about to disappear when Dee Huxley’s door opens.
“Any problems at all,” Jonty’s saying, “just call.”
“Thank you so much, dear. Now, I think I’m going to put my feet up and have a snooze. That was quite a drive.”
Next door, at number four, Rhys is opening the front door for Clemmie and Caleb. She’s talking to him in Welsh, and he’s faffing with the suitcases and clearly trying to get in and out as quickly as he can, which means he doesn’t see what Yasmin sees.
Dee Huxley, standing in her open doorway, staring at Rhys as if she knows him.Reallyknows him.
Staring at him, Yasmin realizes with a shiver, as if she hates him.
Thirty-Four
January 7
Leo
Leo doesn’t know what to do with Ffion except keep his arms around her. Her whole body shakes with silent sobs, and he holds her until she’s still. “Shhh,” he says. “It’s okay.”
Is it?
He’s struggling to process what she’s just told him. Around them, dark clouds bunch above the mountain range.Draigmeans “dragon,” Leo knows, and for the first time, he sees the shape in the rocky outline, its tail stretching into the water. He leads Ffion to his car and opens the door, lifting in her legs as though she’s frail instead of simply cold. He starts the engine and cranks up the heater and wonders where to start.
“You can’t tell anyone,” Ffion says fiercely. “No one knows. I told Mam it was a lad from the summer party. She and Dad were raging over whoever it was not facing up to his responsibilities, but I wouldn’t give them a name. I couldn’t bear anyone to know what I’d done.”
“Whathe’ddone,” Leo says gently.
“It wasn’t rape, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Ffion wipes her face on the sleeve of Leo’s coat. “He wasn’t—he wasn’t violent.” She swallows. “Not in that way.”