to panic.’ She paused and pulled a face. ‘Actually, that’s wrong. He’s been panicking for the last five years. As far as he’s concerned, his daughter is up there on that shelf, in serious need of dusting. I’m afraid I’m breaking his heart.’
Miraculously, Patrick felt himself begin to relax. Maybe the evening wasn’t going to be quite such an ordeal after all. Claire Berenger had a sense of humour. She was no dog either. With her glossy brown hair fastened in a plait, her pale skin and clear grey eyes, she exuded health and vigour. She was attractive in an unflashy way. Her red velvet dress was plain but close-fitting enough to reveal a good figure. She looked like an off-duty gym mistress. At school, thought Patrick, she would definitely have been house prefect.
Amused by Claire’s world-weary air, he said, ‘Has he done this before?’
She gave him a look.
‘My father’s mission in life is to get me up that aisle. Then, nine months later, into the nearest maternity ward. I’m afraid his idea of sexual equality is letting the little woman choose the colour of the wallpaper for the downstairs loo.’
‘I’m already married,’ Patrick apologised.
‘You are? Heavens, where’s your wife?’
‘Well, we separated a few weeks ago.’
Claire said, ‘I’m sorry.’ Then, keeping a straight face, she added, ‘Still, my father will be pleased. He probably thinks that’s my only hope now, catching some poor chap on the rebound.’
Patrick smiled, charmed by her self-deprecating manner. He had, after all, just emerged from a seven-year marriage. And they didn’t come much less self-deprecating than Dulcie.
‘Anyway,’ Claire glanced over her shoulder, checking that her father wasn’t making his way back, ‘I felt I should explain. Now you needn’t be embarrassed when he starts dropping hints the size of Land Rovers. All we have to do is humour him.’
She was an accountant, Patrick discovered over dinner. And an excellent cook, Leo Berenger informed him proudly. Oh yes, she knew how to cook, his daughter. She would make some lucky man a truly wonderful wife.
As their coffee was being served, Claire leaned over and whispered in Patrick’s ear, ‘He’s slipping. He hasn’t told you yet about my child-bearing hips.’
She was wearing Chanel 19. Patrick breathed it in.
‘We shouldn’t be making fun of him. He’s just a proud father.’
‘Who can’t wait to be a proud grandfather,’ murmured Claire. ‘Go on, I dare you. Tell him you’ve had the snip.’
Chapter 19
Dulcie was busy being vivacious at the bar when Liam McPherson finally made his way over to her corner of it.
He appeared before her, wearing a white Nike tennis shirt and black tracksuit bottoms and looking — if it were possible — even more tanned and super-fit than he had earlier.
‘We meet again,’ he told Dulcie with a grin.
‘Amazing. Aren’t some coincidences just too spooky for words?’
‘What about that drink you promised me?’
‘I lied,’ said Dulcie. ‘I don’t buy men drinks. They buy them for me.’
Liam laughed.
‘You have changed. You always used to buy me drinks.’
Dulcie remembered running to the corner shop, counting out her precious pocket money and dashing back to the tennis court where Liam and his friends lay sprawled on the grass, waiting.
‘Cherry Corona doesn’t count.’
His tone was affectionate.
‘You were a funny little kid.’
She ran an index finger idly around the rim of her almost empty glass.
‘Like I said, I’ve grown up.’
One eyebrow was raised. Liam smiled his havoc-making smile.
‘Indeed. And I’m beginning to think we have some serious catching-up to do.’
While Dulcie’s stomach was still churning with pleasure, he attracted the barman’s eye and had her vodka and tonic topped up. Somewhat alarmingly, he ordered a pint of orange juice for himself.
‘So tell me what you get up to these days. You said you were divorced, didn’t you?’ Liam looked sympathetic. ‘Any children?’
Dulcie loved the way he spoke to her, giving her his undivided attention. It was exhilarating, being made to feel you were the most fascinating and desirable girl in the world, after years of neglect.
That was the difference between him and Patrick, Dulcie realised. Liam was interested in her as a person. He actually cared.
‘Almost divorced,’ she fibbed. ‘And no, no children.’
He nodded and put his arm out, shielding her back from a carelessly held cigarette. Dulcie felt absurdly protected. ‘Career girl, is that it? What line of work are you in?’
‘No line of work,’ she said with a playful smile. ‘Just ..
