‘That’s right. I got involved through Lotte. She’s a professional photographer. She volunteers at the refuge if they need publicity photos. It’s a worthy cause, so I threw my hat into the ring too.’
‘Commendable. Both of you.’ He shifted on the sofa, his expression brightening. ‘Lotte’s quite the character. How did you meet her?’
Mia’s heart seized. They seemed to be jumping from one sombre subject to another, but she wasn’t going to side-step his question. There could be no more omissions. She parked her cup on the floor, felt darkness draining through her. ‘It’s not a very jolly story, I’m afraid.’
He leaned forward, eyes searching hers. ‘How so?’
For the second time that evening she was travelling back in her mind. Yet again she heard rainwater splashing over the tops of the gutters, splattering onto the cobbles. ‘It was a horrible evening. Cold and wet and windy. I’d not been in Amsterdam that long. I hadn’t bought my bike yet. I was hurrying home, trying to hang on to my umbrella, when I heard a noise coming from a side street. A struggle: someone crying.’ Her pulse was climbing. ‘I was scared, but I couldn’t ignore it.’
He was shaking his head. ‘You should have gone for help—phoned the police.’
‘There wasn’t time—it sounded bad.’ She snatched a breath. ‘Thankfully my brolly isn’t one of those midget things; it’s quite sturdy. I folded it then made my way towards the noise.’ She could still smell the aroma of hot oil and garlic from the restaurant kitchens on the main drag. She could still see steam billowing through a vent in a wall—details trapped in her memory like insects in amber.
She swallowed. ‘There was one of those big industrial bins, and on the other side of it I saw Lotte struggling with this big guy. He was all over her, pulling at her clothes.’ Theo’s eyes were burning into hers. ‘I just reacted—thwacked him with the umbrella—gave him such a shock that Lotte was able to get free. She kicked him in the crotch and then we ran for it. I brought her back here.’ Lotte’s face, streaked with tears, teeth chattering, lips trembling... She pushed the image out of her head. ‘We reported it, and after the police had been Lotte stayed the night. We bonded over brandy and a mutual hatred of scumbag men.’
‘Did they catch him?’ Theo’s eyes were dark, his lips pale.
‘No. He was a tourist. Lotte had met him at a photography exhibition. They’d started chatting. She’d told him right away that she wasn’t into guys and she said he’d seemed cool about it. They went for a drink, just hanging out, and then he’d said he wanted to take some pictures of a side street for a photography project he was working on. That’s why she went with him—because she was interested in his project. But then, when they were out of sight, he jumped her.’
Theo’s face was rigid. She looked down, saw that his hands were clenched into fists. Maybe she should have edited the story a bit. It was clearly stirring things up inside him that she could only begin to imagine.
She moistened her lips, went on quickly. ‘Afterwards, Lotte found it difficult to go out on her own. She got panic attacks; she was scared all the time. She went to talk to one of the counsellors at the refuge and the sessions helped a lot. She’s still got a way to go, but at least she can go out without panicking now, which is good... Anyway, that’s why Lotte started volunteering at Saving Grace. She wanted to give something back.’ She smiled. ‘She’s always trying to give back. Trying to help the people who’ve helped her.’
Theo was staring at her. Tentatively, she touched his arm. ‘Are you all right?’
He took a breath, seeming to come back into himself. ‘I can’t believe you did what you did. He could have had a knife, Mia—anything.’
‘But he didn’t! We got away. If I’d waited for help to come...’ She pressed her lips together. What could have happened didn’t bear thinking about... She took her hand away from Theo’s arm and gave a little shrug. ‘I know I can be impulsive. Ash is always telling me to think first...’ She thought of Greenwich, felt a blush warming her cheeks. ‘But it isn’t that I don’t think. It’s just that if there’s something I can physically do I’d rather do it than waste time with “what ifs”.’
He smiled softly. ‘Mia the brave...’
‘Not brave. Impatient.’
‘Brave! Brave enough to ride on the back of a bicycle with a very rusty chauffeur...’
‘Impatient to get back and put on a warm sweater, you mean.’ She smiled. ‘Some risks are worth taking.’
He laughed and then the light in his eyes dimmed. Hesitantly, he stretched out a hand and laid it over hers. ‘But not all risks, Mia.’ His eyes held her, drawing her in. ‘You were lucky that night with Lotte, but it could have gone very differently. Promise me you’ll never do anything like that again.’
His hand on hers felt warm and protective. For a long moment she held his gaze, losing herself in it. It was disarming that he seemed to care so much about what happened to her, but she’d made a promise to herself, a promise to keep her head and not give her heart away until she knew who she was giving it to. She didn’t belong to Theo and, even though she could tell his intentions were good, he didn’t have the right to ask her for promises.
She moistened her lips. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t.’
There was a quick beat of uncertainty in his eyes, a flicker of realisation. He lifted his hand away from hers and pressed it flatly onto his thigh. ‘No—I’m sorry. I was being intense.’ He faltered, smiled sheepishly. ‘Madelon’s always telling me I’m heavy going. What I should have said was, be careful. Will you at least
