‘No, I’m just a fill-in for one term. Then I’m back to my real job, translating books.’
‘You’re not staying?’ Mark was crestfallen.
‘I never stay long anywhere,’ she admitted. ‘I like to take off into the wide blue yonder. There’s always new places to travel. I’ll be going back to Italy before the end of the year.’
‘Where?’ he asked at once.
‘Travelling all over, studying dialects.’
‘But I thought they all spoke Italian.’
‘They do, but the regions have their dialects which are almost like different languages.’
‘How different?’ he wanted to know.
‘Well, if you wanted to say, “Strike while the iron’s hot” in Italian, it would be,
‘That’s great!’ Mark said, thrilled. ‘All those different ways to say one thing.’
‘But what’s the point?’ Justin asked. ‘Why don’t they all just speak Italian?’
‘Because a regional dialect springs from the people,’ Evie explained. ‘It’s part of their history, their personality. It’s their heritage. Don’t you care about your heritage?’
His reaction startled her. His face seemed to close, like the door of a tomb, she later thought. After a moment’s black silence he said, ‘I just think one language is more efficient.’
‘Of course it’s more efficient,’ she conceded. ‘But who wants to be efficient all the time? Sometimes it’s more fun to be colourful.’
‘I wouldn’t get far running a business on that theory.’
‘The Italians aren’t a businesslike people, thank goodness,’ she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. ‘They’re delightful, and full of life and music. All those things matter too. Who wants to be efficient all the time?’
‘I do,’ he said simply.
Evie and Mark exchanged glances. Justin saw them but said nothing.
‘Will you send me postcards from Italy?’ Mark asked wistfully.
‘Lots and lots of them, from everywhere.’
He began bombarding her with questions which she answered willingly. Justin seemed content to sit there and listen, except once when he said, ‘Take a break from talking, Mark, and eat something.’
His tone was pleasant enough and Mark stopped to take a few mouthfuls. Evie took advantage of the moment to look around the garden, and saw a dog walking towards them, followed by five puppies, who seemed about six weeks old.
‘That’s Cindy,’ Mark told her. ‘She belongs to Lily. They all do. And there’s Hank. He’s their father.’
A large dog, part Alsatian and part something else, had appeared around the side of the house, accompanied by Lily bearing food bowls. She set them down on the terrace, returned to the kitchen and came back with more bowls. Under Evie’s fascinated eyes the family converged on their supper, the five pups diving in vigorously.
They finished quickly, then looked around for more to eat. Cindy, evidently knowing the danger, had cleared her bowl fast. Hank seemed less well prepared, for some of his food was still there and the smallest pup advanced on him purposefully.
The huge dog began to snarl horribly, revealing terrible great teeth. Undeterred, the pup went on towards the bowl, while his father hurled warning after warning.
‘Shouldn’t we rescue that little creature?’ Evie said, beginning to rise.
But Justin laid a hand on her arm, detaining her.
‘Leave them,’ he said. ‘It’s all right.’
‘But Hank will devour the pup in one mouthful,’ she protested.
‘Nothing will happen,’ he said. ‘It never does.’
Reluctantly, she sat down and watched as the puppy, unimpressed by his father’s belligerence, reached the bowl and tucked in.
At once the snarls stopped. Hank was left looking around with a puzzled expression as if asking what he was expected to do now.
Something in the huge animal’s air of baffled pathos struck Evie as irresistibly funny and she began to laugh.
‘That poor dog,’ she choked. ‘Beneath all the aggro he’s just an old softy. Oh, dear-’
Waves of laughter swept her again.
‘Come here, boy,’ she said, holding out her hand. Hank came at once and sat gazing up at her, silently seeking sympathy.
‘Poor fellow, you hardly had any supper,’ she said, taking his face between her hands. ‘Here, let’s see if you like spaghetti. Yes, you do, don’t you?’
She wrapped her arms around him, chuckling and kissing his forehead at the same time. Lily joined in her amusement, and so did Mark.
She glanced up at Justin, hoping that he too might be laughing. But he wasn’t.
He was staring at her with a stunned expression on his face, like a man who’d been struck by lightning.
Lily intervened and hustled her little ‘family’ out of sight. Evie went to wash her hands where Hank had licked them, and returned to find Lily serving gateau and cream.
‘You look ever so pretty tonight,’ Mark ventured. ‘You don’t usually dress like that.’
‘I was going out,’ she told him.
‘On a date?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you got a boyfriend?’
‘Yes,’ she said, laughing.
‘Mark,’ Justin muttered through gritted teeth.
‘Will he be mad at you?’ Mark asked, undeterred.
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ she said cheerfully.
‘I bet you could handle anyone. I bet you’d really tell him off.’
‘If I did that he wouldn’t be my boyfriend for very long,’ she pointed out.
‘Are you nuts about him?’
‘That’s a secret,’ she said.
She was aware of Justin uncovering his eyes and looking at her, but she kept her attention on Mark.
‘Is he nuts about you?’ Mark persisted.
‘He probably won’t be after the way I stood him up tonight,’ she said lightly.
‘But if he’s really nuts about-’
‘Mark, that’s enough,’ Justin said edgily.
She noticed that the boy fell silent at once, as though a light had gone out inside him.
‘I honestly don’t mind,’ she said. ‘We’re just joking.’
She gave Mark a reassuring smile and followed it with a broad wink. After a moment he winked back, then cast an uncertain glance at his father, as though worried about his reaction. Evie followed his look and was startled by Justin’s expression. It vanished at once, and she supposed she might have been mistaken. But for a brief moment he’d looked almost forlorn, like a child excluded from a charmed circle.
Absurd. Whatever this harsh man was, he wasn’t forlorn.
CHAPTER THREE
AS THE meal ended Lily came to say that Justin was wanted on the phone. Guessing that he would now be gone for some time, Evie agreed to Mark’s suggestion that they go to his
