She cut oranges in half and carefully took out the flesh, planning to fill the empty shells with orange, shrimps and avocado and a sauce for the starter. The breasts of duck were marinating, and the puddings – brown sugar meringue vacherins filled with cream and the sweet chestnut puree that Aurelia had been so rude about – were already made. Theo begged her to make some more shortbread. ‘I’ll miss it when you’ve gone home, please leave lots for us.’ Gone home. It hurt to think of it. ‘I’ll tell you how to make it yourself,’ she said, ‘I haven’t time to make any now.’ ‘I’ll never make them as well as you do,’ he moaned, but he listened to her instructions, writing them down, while she busied herself with the dinner. Lawrence returned sometime later from wherever he’d been and found them both in the kitchen, Vera was laying the table for dinner in the living room. ‘Look, made them on my own,’ Theo announced proudly, hovering round some rather misshapen biscuits cooling on a wire rack.
