‘I’m not complaining,’ she said. ‘A bulldozer was just what I needed. Nothing else could have saved me.’
‘But still,’ he gave a self-deprecating smile, ‘now that I’ve got what I wanted, I can afford to reflect that perhaps I didn’t behave very well to get it.’
‘That’s always the best time to reflect,’ she agreed, ‘when you’ve won.’
He glanced up quickly. ‘Are you making fun of me?’
‘Would you mind very much if I was?’
‘If it was you-no. It’s just something I’m not used to.’
‘I don’t suppose there’s been much laughter in your life recently, has there?’ she asked gently.
‘No, but then there never has been. I’m not a man noted for my sense of humour, as you may have observed. When people laugh I always wonder if they’re looking at something over my shoulder, so I play safe and discourage laughter. That, too, is not a pleasant characteristic.’
There flashed across her mind the memory of the man in the photograph with his wife and child, laughing, full of joy. But that man no longer existed. ‘Why are you so determined to put yourself down?’ She added, ‘We all have our unattractive side.’
‘But in some of us it predominates,’ he said, speaking seriously. ‘I don’t think well of myself at the moment-for reasons that I can’t tell you-’
‘I’m not trying to pry, but I would help you if I could.’
She spoke from her heart. Her own instincts and something in his manner told her that there was more here than simply grief at his wife’s loss. He was like a man labouring under a crushing burden, lashing out at one moment, but reaching out for help the next. She wanted to take him in her arms and ease his pain. It took an effort not to touch him.
‘One day,’ he said at last, ‘there are many things I would like to tell you.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘yes…’
But the mood was dispelled by the approach of the waiter with more coffee. She forced herself to smile and seem normal but it was hard when she had seemed to be drawing closer to him.
He too had assumed an air of normality, saying, ‘Last night we celebrated your freedom. What are you going to do with it?’
‘I’m going to use it to stay here. I’ve no reason to hurry back to England. No close family. No job. Nobody who needs me as Liza does.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I think that’s my weakness-I enjoy being needed. It’s
He nodded slowly. ‘You were made to be needed. You have a strength that will always draw others to you. I didn’t see it at first because when we met it was you who needed help, but Liza saw something in you that would sustain her through the dark times.’
‘I still wish I knew more about your wife-of course, I understand why you don’t want to talk about her-’
‘I wonder if you do.’
‘Eight months isn’t very long, and you’re still grieving-’
‘Are you still grieving for Bruno Vanelli?’
She thought for a moment before saying, ‘Only for the person I thought he was. Remember how we talked about this once before? You were right. The happiness I knew with him is something I’ll never know again. But that happiness is dead, just as the man I believed in is dead.’
‘Fool’s paradise,’ he said sombrely. ‘How long it lasts is the luck of the draw.’
‘I suppose it can only be fleeting,’ she said with a little sigh.
‘No, it can last for years.’
‘Did yours last for years?’ she asked.
For a moment she thought she’d gone too far, trespassing on his private feelings. But instead of being annoyed he nodded silently.
‘So you want to know more about my wife?’
‘I need to know the things Liza knows-like, how did you meet?’ she asked bravely.
‘She was over here on holiday, being taken on a conducted tour of the law courts. She came into the court where I was prosecuting a case, and as soon as I saw her it was all up with me. I fumbled, made a fool of myself, lost the case.
‘Afterwards I caught up with her before she left the courthouse. She laughed at me. I was dazzled. That very night I determined to marry her. I was in love in the way the songs describe. We were married the following month. Liza was born a few months later, and I thought I was the happiest man in creation.’
‘You never wanted more children?’
‘Yes, but it didn’t happen. She miscarried the next baby, and suffered so much that I never asked her to try again. Besides, we had Liza.’
His voice softened and he smiled as though he couldn’t help himself. There it was, she thought; the thing she’d been looking for, the overwhelming love of a father for his child.
‘I’ll bet she was a gorgeous baby,’ she encouraged him.
His answer was a grin, open and unselfconscious.
‘She was the best,’ he said simply. ‘No other baby was like her. She did everything before other children, she walked, she talked, she smiled at everyone because she wanted the whole world to be her friend. But she smiled at me before anyone else, even her mother. If only you could have seen how she looked then-’
‘But I have,’ Holly told him. ‘There’s a book of photographs that Liza showed me, with some lovely pictures of the three of you. You seemed such a happy family.’
‘We were,’ he murmured softly.
‘I even felt envious because I never knew my father. I’d have loved to have pictures like that, with his arms about me, looking at me with such love and pride. It would have been something to keep, even when he wasn’t there any more. When you have a memory like that, it’s like being blessed forever.’
He didn’t answer. He seemed lost in a dream.
‘Don’t you ever look at those pictures?’ she asked.
‘No,’ he said flatly.
‘Perhaps you should-to remind yourself-’
‘And if I don’t want to remember?’ he asked quietly.
‘What can I say? I have no right to give you any advice.’
He managed a bleak smile. ‘That never stopped any woman yet. Besides, I’ve made you part of it, so go ahead. Let me hear your advice.’
‘You both loved Carol, and you’re both grieving for her. But do it together. Talk about how wonderful she was.’
‘Wonderful-’
‘Well, wasn’t she? You said she was dazzling when you first met, but wasn’t it more than that, all the years you were together? Isn’t that why you’re grieving for her, because she was wonderful? Maybe you don’t want to dwell on that part, but I don’t think you can get through it without remembering, and sharing it with Liza. You’re the only person who can do that for her.’
‘I know I am,’ he said heavily. ‘That’s the devil of it. But you don’t know what you’re asking. If I could talk to anyone it would be you. I’m like Liza in that. We both lean on you. It’s the effect you have. But even with you…’
His voice faded and the hand that was holding hers clenched convulsively.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘It’s all right.’
She wasn’t sure that he’d heard, but the grip on her hand remained tight. After a while he looked up, meeting her eyes, his own full of an unmistakable message. Every nerve told her that she should draw back, be cautious, but that message mesmerised her.
She leaned forward as he reached up to touch her face, drawing his fingertips down her cheek, tracing the outline of her lips. It was the lightest touch, yet the effect was electric, shuddering through her with a brilliant excitement.
‘Holly,’ he whispered. ‘Holly-Holly-’
It was like a lightning flash. Once before a voice had spoken her name on that caressing note, and it had all been a performance. Now another man was luring her into the same trap for his own ends, and she had nearly
