‘Oh, don’t mind me.’

Ava leaned in very close to Vivian’s ear and whispered, ‘I’d bet your essential worker could change your mind about sex.’

‘What a thought.’

‘Come on. Don’t tell me you haven’t had it. The thought, I mean.’

‘You can be very vulgar.’

‘Well, if you don’t want him, I could make him happy. A man of principles might be a delightful change.’

‘Ava, please don’t joke about such things.’

‘About what things? His principles? His body?’

‘Either.’

‘I see.’ Ava looked at Vivian in a way that suggested she did indeed see. She had seen it and she was prepared to bring it out into the open. Temporarily Howard had stopped shovelling. He seemed to be reflecting. He was leaning on the shovel, staring straight ahead, at them, eyes clear and unblinking. Of course he couldn’t possibly see into the house. ‘Will he have tea with us?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Invite him for tea tomorrow. You can stretch to it, can’t you?’ Vivian hesitated. ‘Oh, don’t be dull and say you’d rather it was just us two. I have nothing more to tell you. I’ve delivered all the gossip. Nothing interesting happens at the Foreign Office, and when it does, I can’t talk of it. It would be lovely to have a man’s company for a change.’

‘I can’t, Ava, I’m not sure it would be proper. A single man and two single women, alone.’

‘Oh, but, Vivian, you’re not single. You have a husband.’

Vivian turned scarlet and didn’t know what to say. When had she started to think of herself as single? ‘I shall invite Enid, if you are insistent on company.’

‘Enid and the conchie?’

‘No, just Enid.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ flustered now. ‘Don’t call him a conchie.’

‘Well, what should I call him? I’m not to call him conchie, I’m not to refer to him as your chap. Mr Henderson would be proper, I suppose, since we haven’t been introduced.’

‘I sometimes call him Howie, at least in my head,’ blurted Vivian.

34

ENID AND HOWARD walked to Vivian’s in silence. It was not clear which of them was more apprehensive of the impending afternoon tea. Howard had said he did not want to accept. He didn’t usually come home from the farm until near six; breaking at three so he could bathe and shave for tea at four seemed to him an extraordinary waste of time. Enid wasn’t much keener herself. She did not approve of the growing intimacy between her friend and her son, between a married woman and a conchie; whichever way you looked at it, it spelt trouble. Not that either party had confided anything specific to her; nothing had been articulated. Still, she knew what was going on. She rarely saw them together; they spent a lot of time avoiding each other, which told her more than enough. However, it was problematical to refuse Ava; she had been insistent that they all meet for tea.