Their food arrived and they ate predominantly without words. Helen ordered another glass of wine after the first disappeared rather quickly. Hugh ordered a jug of tap water. It arrived with slices of lemon and lime bobbing between the ice cubes that clattered into the glass as he poured for both of them. He pushed her glass towards her and nodded at it around a mouthful of bruschetta.

By the time they had finished their main meal, Helen had been on the receiving end of a disapproving glare from him when she called Benito over to order a third glass of wine. She was now feeling rebellious, mostly because she was annoyed that the linguine was not as good as her usual choice of cannelloni and it irked her to think she should’ve stuck with what she knew after all. She then ordered tiramisu on a whim instead of a cup of peppermint tea. Benito raised a bushy eyebrow and smiled.

The tiramisu arrived with two shots of limoncello on the side.

“She didn’t order that,” Hugh said, but Benito merely winked at Helen and said, “On the house.”

“I can’t, I’m driving,” he insisted, pushing it away.

Helen knocked back her limoncello before Hugh could send it back, then downed his as well.

She was now feeling quite tipsy and the conversation she knew they had to have was perched on the end of her tongue, ready to dive off. Probably not the best time to bring up Peter, Lydia, Diana, but she was going to anyway.

“By the way, I had to let Peter go,” she said as Hugh sipped on his filter coffee.

“Oh? Why?”

“I just don’t think he was doing a good enough job.”

“Well, you should’ve discussed it with me first.” He was in a disagreeable mood now.

Helen could count on one hand how many times Hugh had ventured into the pool house. He hated the smell of chlorine and humidity brought him out in a rash. The maintenance of the house and the staff had always been her concern, as though he was embarrassed to live in a house that came with staff, but quite happy to let them pick up after him.

Helen was annoyed at his reaction. “Well, no, not really. I use the pool every day, so I expect it to be maintained properly and I think standards were slipping.”

She could feel his eyes on her. She spooned pudding into her mouth and steadily met his gaze.

“Do you though?”

The spoon paused in front of her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“Do you use it every day? I mean, you say you do and I see you head down there often enough, but…”

She waited for him to continue. “But what?”

“Well, let’s be honest, darling, you don’t look like Rebecca Adlington, do you? So what are you actually doing in the pool house if you’re not swimming?”