twenty-three-year-old boy isn’t something they’d understand
—’
‘Come on,’ chided Kit, finally figuring out what it was she was doing. ‘These aren’t reasons, these are excuses. Shouldn’t you give your parents the benefit of the doubt? Introduce me to them and let them make up their own minds.’
‘I know them. Trust me. If I rolled up with you in tow,’ Liza said bleakly, ‘they’d just be embarrassed.’
‘I see. So they’d be embarrassed and I’d be bored.’
‘Right.’
‘And all this has nothing – nothing whatsoever to do with today.’
Liza wanted to cry. Of course it did; it had everything to do with today. She was accustomed to being in control of her life. She definitely wasn’t used to feeling insecure. Lack of confidence was Pru’s speciality, not hers.
And the stupid thing is, Liza realised frustratedly, nobody’s making me feel like this. I’m doing it all by myself.
‘I’ve just had enough,’ she told Kit, her fingernail tracing obsessive spirals on the topaz velvet-upholstered arm of her chair. ‘It’s too difficult. Relationships shouldn’t be difficult.’
‘You’re ashamed of me,’ said Kit. ‘Is that it? I’m an embarrassment to you?’
His yellow eyes narrowed, regarding her with mock amusement. Liza felt sick; he thought he was going to be able to coax her out of this and he couldn’t. It was too late. She’d started and now she couldn’t stop.
‘Yes, I’m ashamed,’ she said quickly, and saw that she had startled him. ‘I’m embarrassed to be seen with you, okay? So it’s over. I’m a grown woman, Kit. Time I found myself a grown man.’
‘You missed a brilliant fight this afternoon,’ Susie the receptionist said gleefully when she handed over to Bella at the end of her shift.
Bella looked interested.
‘What, a punch-up?’
‘Better than that. The couple booked into 201 had the most amazing slanging match, right here in the lobby in front of everyone. We were all riveted! Anyway, the woman was hell bent on finishing with him ‘
‘Hang on, room 201? I checked them in yesterday. He was gorgeous!’
Susie gave her a there-you-go look.
‘That’s it then, isn’t it? Bet you he’s been playing away and she’s only just found out.’
‘So how did it end? Did they make up?’
‘Did Tom make up with Jerry?’ Susie mimed slitting her throat. ‘I’m telling you, it’s over. He did his best, but there was no stopping her. She ended up yelling that she never wanted to see him again. Then she stalked out.’
‘Leaving him here all on his own, you mean?’ Ever hopeful, Bella’s eyes lit up. ‘Shall I ring his room and make sure he’s okay?’ She beamed. ‘I bet I could cheer him up.’
The train journey back to Bath was a nightmare. Huddled in a corner seat behind dark glasses, Liza wondered if it was possible to feel more miserable than this. But it had needed to be done and she had done it. Now all I have to do, she thought unhappily, is get used to being on my own again. Pretend I never met Kit Berenger in the first place.
‘Are you sure you’re all right, dear?’ said the nosy middle-aged woman in the next seat.
Tears were sliding out from under Liza’s dark glasses. She wiped them angrily away with her sleeve.
‘Fine, thanks.’
She turned and gazed out of the window but the woman began tapping her, woodpecker-style, on the arm.
‘If you want to talk about it, dear, I don’t mind. I’d be happy to listen.’ Avidly she studied Liza’s averted profile.
‘All my friends tell me how sympathetic I am— Hang on, don’t I recognise you? Aren’t you that girl who writes about food?’
The train was crowded. Liza ended up three carriages along, squashed against a huge man in an anorak reeking of wet labrador. The smell was awful but at least he didn’t interrogate her.
She couldn’t cry properly until she reached home. It was over, it was all over.
There were half a dozen messages on her answering machine.
None of them was from Kit.
‘Dulcie, where on earth have you been? It’s eight o’clock!’ wailed Pru, standing in the front doorway like an indignant wife. ‘I thought you were only popping out for a pair of tights.’
Dulcie, struggling to keep a straight face, collapsed on to one of the kitchen chairs.
‘I went to see Rufus, to thank him for yesterday.’
Pru recognised that smirk. Dulcie was looking ridiculously pleased with herself.
‘Don’t tell me, you seduced him. You’ve spent the entire day in bed with Mr Nice-Guy-with-a-beard.’
‘Actually,’ Dulcie adopted a not very convincing casual air, ‘I’ve been working.’
‘At getting the poor chap into bed, you mean.’
‘I mean working in the cafe. Running it singlehanded, in fact.’
‘Are you hallucinating,’ said Pru, ‘or am I?’
