‘now you come to mention it, maybe one or two ...’
Chapter 57
The fact that the weather had finally taken a dramatic turn for the better did nothing at all to lift Bruno’s spirits. Outside Mole Cottage - which Maxine had insisted on calling Toad-in-the-Hole Cottage following the discovery of a mouldy cooked sausage under the bed - the sun shone with enthusiasm for the first time in months. Tiny clouds drifted across a clear blue sky, the sea -
turquoise fading to aqua -- glittered in the distance and daffodils had sprung up en masse, their yellow heads nodding in the warm breeze. Even the hopelessly overgrown front garden was sprouting an assortment of yellow blooms; but since he had no interest in flowers Bruno didn’t have a clue what they were.
He didn’t care, either. He didn’t care much about anything at all right now, except the fact that forty-eight hours earlier Maxine had left him.
Standing at the living-room window, he gazed blindly out to sea as tears pricked the back of his eyes. She hadn’t even let him down gently, dammit. Instead, with typically selfish haste, she had just come out with it - no, there was nobody else and he hadn’t done anything wrong, it simply wasn’t working. After that she’d slung the few clothes and bits of make-up she had left at the cottage into a pink raffia bag, and said gaily, ‘Sorry, darling, but these things happen. Wish me luck. Bye!’
The lying bitch, he thought, pressing his lips together and turning the postcard over and over in his hands. She hadn’t even bothered to cover her tracks properly. That was what you got for loving and trusting someone, Bruno concluded bitterly. They took flicking advantage of you and didn’t even stop to think of the pain they were inflicting .. .
He had found the postcard stuffed into the breast pocket of his denim shirt. Maxine, who had borrowed it the previous weekend, had spilt chocolate milkshake down the sleeve and chucked it into his laundry basket. That way, of course, he could wash and iron it himself before she borrowed it again.
And it was such a naff card, Bruno thought, blinking hard and staring down at the scene depicting Romsey Road in all its grubby glory. Turning it over, he read for the fifteenth time the brief message scrawled on the other side: ‘Don’t I always deliver the goods? Ring me! Zack.’
Even Bruno, who didn’t watch television, recognized the name. Zack Morrison might not be the most talented actor on the planet, he thought sourly, but he was renowned for his ability to deliver the fucking goods .. .
Bruno dressed with care, deliberately choosing the pink-and-grey striped shirt she had bought for him and teaming it with immaculately pressed charcoal-grey trousers. It was warm enough outside not to bother with a jacket.
Studying himself in front of the bedroom mirror Bruno nodded, satisfied with what he saw.
He could still turn it on when he wanted to, he thought with renewed pride. How many women, after all, had told him he had the sexiest green eyes in the world? How many had called his smile irresistible? How many had begged him to take them away from their husbands?
Paco Rabanne, Bruno decided, reaching for the bottle standing on the chest of drawers. No, Eau Sauvage. She had bought that for him too. If that was what she liked best, it was what he would wear.
Nina was sitting up at the bar drinking tomato juice and chatting to one of the lunchtime regulars when Bruno walked into the restaurant. The good weather had brought with it an influx of customers and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. What Wayne Simmonds lacked in personal magnetism, Bruno decided, he evidently made up for with his skill in the kitchen. At least the business hadn’t suffered whilst he’d been away.
‘Goodness,’ said Nina shyly, her eyes lighting up when she spotted him. ‘Look who’s here!
Bruno, how lovely to see you after all this time. And you’re looking so well; working at the Grand Rock obviously suits you.’
Smiling, Bruno bent and kissed her pale cheek. Nina hadn’t changed at all; that was what he’d always liked about her. Even the floppy, floral, Laura Ashley dress was utterly predictable.
She’d been wearing it for the past six years.
‘You’re looking pretty good yourself.’ Standing back, studying her shining, unmade-up face and breathing in the comfortingly familiar scent of patchouli oil, he took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Are you busy or can we go upstairs and have a proper chat? It feels odd being down here and not having the right to insult the customers.’
The sitting room, flooded with sunlight, was less tidy than before but otherwise just as he remembered it.
Nina, intercepting his glance, smiled and said, ‘You were the one who put things away around here. I’m still as hopeless as I ever was.’
‘You aren’t hopeless.’ His tone was affectionate. ‘Just ... relaxed. Oh Nina, it really is good to see you. Tell me how you’ve been keeping. Tell me how you’ve really been.’
The dozen or so silver bracelets tinkled as she pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘Well, fine.
Busy at Christmas, of course, and New Year’s Eve was as chaotic as ever. January was steady.
We’ve changed the menu around and the customers seem to approve.’
‘I meant how have you been.’ Leading Nina to the sofa, he sat down next to her without letting go of her hand. ‘I don’t suppose it’s been that easy for either of us
‘Oh, you know.’ She shrugged and examined a fraying hole in her skirt. ‘As you said at the time, these things happen. Life goes on.’
‘Nina.’ Bruno’s voice softened. ‘I said some very stupid things at the time. And I’ve lived to regret them. You —’
‘How’s Maxine?’ she said suddenly, her eyes bright with interest. ‘I saw her in that toilet-roll commercial on television. I thought she was very good.’
Bruno sighed. ‘Maybe she was. But Maxine isn’t you, sweetheart. She doesn’t even begin to compare with you. I realize that now. I don’t want Maxine any more,’ he said simply. ‘I want you to forgive me for behaving like a fool. I want you.’
For a moment Nina looked as if she were about to burst into tears. Gazing at him, hesitantly touching the sleeve of his shirt, she whispered, ‘This is the one I bought you last summer.’
He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile.
