Fire After Dark (12 page)

‘How old are you?’

‘I’m thirty-one.’ He looks wary. ‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-two. I’m twenty-three in September.’

He looks faintly relieved. I guess that he suddenly worried that I might be one of those girls who look old for their age.

I take another sip of my Pimms, and Dominic does the same. We are so easy in one another’s company, despite the fact that everything we say reveals what strangers we actually are.

‘So what is your job?’ I ask. I guessed it must be something in money, something that could make a man so comparatively young able to live in Mayfair. Unless he inherited something, of course.

‘Finance. Investments,’ he says vaguely. ‘I work for a Russian businessman. He has a great deal of money and I help him to manage it. It takes me all over the world, but it’s mostly based here in London, and it’s very flexible. If I need to take an afternoon off – like today’ – he smiles at me – ‘then I can.’

‘It sounds interesting,’ I say, though I’m still really none the wiser about what he does. The fact is, anything Dominic did would be fascinating to me.

‘That’s enough about me. I’m very dull. I want to know a bit more about you. For instance – does your boyfriend mind you being here in London on your own?’

I have the feeling he’s being mischievous with me, enjoying my discomfort as my treacherous cheeks burn scarlet again. ‘I’m single, actually,’ I say awkwardly.

He raises his eyebrows. ‘Really? I’m surprised.’

It’s hard to tell if he’s teasing me or not – those dark eyes can be rather opaque. I hope I don’t sound like I’m offering my single status as an invitation. I’d be mortified if he thought that. Besides, he’s taken. As soon as I think that, I wonder if this is my chance to find out more on that particular topic.

‘So,’ I say, hoping my face is cooling down a little, ‘how long have you and Vanessa been together?’

Immediately I worry that I’ve gone too far somehow. His expression closes, as though all emotion has been shut off. The friendly openness vanishes, replaced by something cold and blank.

‘I’m sorry,’ I stammer, ‘I’ve been rude. I didn’t think . . .’

Then, it’s as though a switch is turned back on. The coldness disappears and it’s the Dominic I’ve come to know sitting across from me, though his smile seems just a little forced. ‘Not at all,’ he says. ‘Of course you haven’t been rude.’

I’m swamped with relief.

‘I just wondered what made you think she and I are together.’

‘Well, you know . . . she had that air about her, like you and she are very close, very familiar, like a girlfriend and boyfriend would be . . .’
Oh God, I’m so clumsy at expressing myself when it’s important.

After a moment’s pause, he says, ‘Vanessa and I aren’t together. We’re just very good friends.’

I get a flashback of the private members’ club. I know they went there together. They must be very good friends indeed to go to a place like that. I still can’t quite reconcile what I saw there with Dominic’s outwardly normal demeanour. It’s a mystery I file away for later.

He looks at the table and runs his finger along its smooth wooden surface. He says slowly, almost thoughtfully, ‘I won’t lie to you, Beth. Vanessa and I were together once. But it was a while ago. We’re just friends now.’

I remember the way she walked in last night. She didn’t even knock. She has her own key. Are they really just friends?’ Okay.’ My voice is small and shy. ‘I didn’t mean to pry, Dominic.’

‘I know. It’s fine. Listen.’ He evidently wants to change the subject. ‘Let’s have another drink here and then I’m going to take you out for dinner. Okay?’

‘Well . . . ’I wonder what the correct form is. I can’t let a man I hardly know take me out, can I?’ That would be very nice but I’ll pay for myself, of course.’

‘We’ll talk about that later,’ he says in such a way that I guess he isn’t going to let me. But I don’t care. All that matters is that I’ve got the whole evening with Dominic to myself, and unless something very strange happens, there’s absolutely no worry that Vanessa will march in and take over.

I sigh happily and say, ‘At least let me get the next round.’

‘You’re on,’ Dominic replies with a smile, and I get up to order the drinks.

It’s the most blissful evening. I love being close to Dominic, feasting my eyes on his dark good looks. Not only does he make me happy just looking at him but he also seems genuinely interested in me. It makes me think that perhaps I wasn’t as happy with Adam as I’ve led myself to believe. Before we split, Adam hadn’t made any effort with me at all. When I got back from uni, it was obvious that he expected me to fit into the life he had made for himself and his circle of friends, a life of the pub, television, beer and takeaways.

As we sit together in that pretty pub garden, the late afternoon sun sinking into a golden evening, Dominic says, ‘So, Beth – what are your dreams for the future?’

‘I’d love to travel,’ I say. ‘I’ve hardly gone anywhere. I want to expand my horizons.’

‘Really?’ His expression is unreadable but there’s the hint of something dangerous in the way his black eyes glitter. ‘We’ll have to see what we can do about that.’

My stomach swoops. What does he mean? I swallow quickly and try to think of something amusing to say, but as I chatter on about countries I’d like to visit, the excitement burning inside doesn’t die down.

As the alcohol floats through my bloodstream, I begin to relax properly and the last vestige of my shyness melts away. I make jokes, telling Dominic about life at home and some of the more ridiculous stories about my time as a waitress. He laughs uproariously as I describe some of the local eccentrics who frequent the cafe and their general craziness.

When we leave the pub and walk to the restaurant, I’m so enraptured by the way I’m amusing him that I don’t have a clue where we’re going. It’s not until we’re sitting at another outdoor table, this one under a canopy of vines, and the smell of barbecued meat makes me realise how hungry I am, that I become aware we’re at a Persian restaurant, with a bottle of chilled white wine on the table and a salad of deliciously fresh vegetables and herbs, a plate of hummus, and some flat bread hot from the oven, in front of us. It’s all wonderful, and we both start eating hungrily. I’m already stuffed by the time the next course arrives: aromatic grilled lamb, more of the incredibly fresh salad and rice that looks plain but tastes fantastic, sweet and salty at the same time.

As we talk over dinner, our conversation becomes a little more personal. I tell Dominic about my brothers and my parents, and what it was like growing up in my small hometown, and why I was drawn to the history of art. He tells me that he is an only child, and describes something of what it was like to be brought up in a culture of servants and nannies.

In the atmosphere of confession, it feels natural to tell him a little about Adam. Not much – I don’t mention that terrible night and the ghastly sight of Adam and Hannah together – but enough so that he understands that my first big relationship has recently come to an end.

‘It’s a tender time,’ he says gently. ‘It’s one of the sad things we all have to go through. It feels like the end of the world at the time, but things do get better, I promise,’

I gaze at him. The wine and the intoxicatingly beautiful evening have made me brave. ‘Was it like that when you finished with Vanessa?’

He’s startled and then laughs, but not easily. ‘Well . . . it was different. Vanessa and I were not one another’s first love, or childhood sweetheart, or whatever you want to call it.’

I press on, leaning towards him. ‘But you ended it?’

There is a glimpse of that shutter that I’m learning can fall so easily over Dominic’s face, but it doesn’t quite drop. ‘We agreed to end it. That we were better off as friends.’

‘So . . . you fell out of love with each other?’

‘We discovered that we weren’t as . . . compatible . . . as we’d thought we were, that’s all.’

I frown. What does that mean?

‘We had different needs.’ Dominic looks over his shoulder for the waiter and gestures for the bill. ‘Really there’s no big story. We’re friends now, that’s all.’

I realise he’s getting just a tiny bit tetchy and the last thing I want is for this intimate, almost romantic evening to be spoiled.

‘Okay.’ I think of how I can change the subject. ‘Oh, I got myself a job today.’

‘You did?’ He looks interested.

‘Uh huh.’ I tell him about the Riding House Gallery and he’s clearly thrilled for me.

‘That’s great, Beth! Those jobs are really hard to get, the competition is intense. So you’ll be busy from now on, will you?’

‘No more lying in the garden for me,’ I say with mock despair, ‘not during working hours anyway.’

‘I’m sure there’ll still be time for fun,’ he says, and his eyes twinkle while a dark eyebrow raises. Before I can ask him what he means, the waiter has appeared with the bill, and Dominic is paying it, waving away the offer of my debit card.

It’s almost dark as we walk back through the streets towards Randolph Gardens. The air is rich with the smell of a summer city night: the fragrance of flowers, the scent of cooling asphalt, the dry dust of the day blowing in the evening breeze. I feel so happy. My gaze slides to Dominic.

I wonder if he feels as blissed out as I do? I suppose there’s no reason why he should. It’s just dinner with a girl who’s around for the summer, providing a bit of novelty distraction from the hedge fund business, or whatever it is he does.

In my heart, I wish that it’s not just that, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.

As we get closer to home, the atmosphere between us becomes more charged. After all, this is such a romantic thing to do, returning home together after a delicious meal and wine. Surely it should end with something like . . .

I can hardly dare to think of it.

A kiss.

After all, he’s single, he’s told me himself. And he’s straight because he went out with Vanessa. And . . . surely I can’t be alone in feeling the chemistry between us?

We’re in Randolph Gardens now. Dominic stops at the bottom of the steps and I stand next to him. Once we’re through the door, nothing can happen. The porter will be there, watching, putting an effective stop on any unexpected goodnight embraces.

I turn to look at him, my face tipped up towards his, aware of the breeze gently lifting strands of my hair.
Now, now,
I’m urging him, desperate, longing for a touch of that beautiful mouth on mine.

He’s staring down at me, his gaze moving over my face as though he’s memorising it. ‘Beth,’ he says in a low murmur.

‘Yes?’ I hope the yearning isn’t too obvious in my voice.

There’s a long pause. He moves fractionally towards me and I’m filled with a dark excitement.
Is this it? Please, Dominic, please . . .

‘I’m busy tomorrow,’ he says at last, ‘but would you like to spend Sunday together?’

‘I would love that,’ I breathe.

‘Good. Me too. I’ll pick you up around twelve and we’ll do something.’

He stares at me just long enough to make me wonder if it’s going to happen, then he bends quickly and brushes my cheek with his lips. ‘Good night, then, Beth. Let me see you to the lift.’

‘Good night,’ I whisper, not sure how I’m going to deal with the geyser of desire that’s just exploded inside me. ‘And thank you.’

His dark eyes are inscrutable. ‘You’re very welcome. Sleep well.’

If I can sleep at all, it will be a miracle,
I think, as we go inside.

Chapter Seven

In the event, I sleep very well, no doubt because of the excitement coupled with the wine. I dream a hectic, exciting dream where Dominic and I are at a party. There are people in glittering masks everywhere, and I keep losing him in the crowd, spotting him and trying to get to him, knowing that if I can only reach him, something beautiful will happen. After hours of trying to catch him, I finally find him and just as he is about to sink his lips on mine, I wake up, flustered.

I wonder if I should go back to that shop and ask the lady to sell me one of her vibrators so that I can work off some of this frustration that’s plaguing me, but before I can do anything to sort it out on my own, De Havilland comes in, jumps on the bed and starts clawing at me to get his breakfast for him. By the time I’ve done that, the moment has passed.

I decide that today I’ll go shopping for something to wear for my new job and set off towards the main streets. But it’s a very different experience to the delightful personally tailored day I enjoyed earlier in the week. On a hot sunny Saturday, Oxford Street is packed with people and in the shops, the assistants are hot and hassled despite the air-con. It takes hours to find anything and by the time I return with my purchases, I’m feeling as harried as the assistants looked. Randolph Gardens feels like a haven of tranquillity compared to the throng of humanity I’ve had to fight through. Not for the first time, I bless Celia for providing me with such a lovely place to live in. I might have been at the mercy of buses and underground trains, sharing a cramped house miles away from the centre, or in a lonely bedsit somewhere. Instead, I’ve got an oasis of calm to enjoy.

And, I remind myself as I unwrap my new things, I’ve also got tomorrow to look forward to.

As well as the sensible skirt and shirts I’ve bought for my job, I couldn’t help getting something a little more exciting for whatever Dominic and I are going to do tomorrow. It’s a dress, demure with its pink-and-navy painterly print and silken fabric, but sexy in the way it’s belted in tight at the waist, and in the way the cap sleeves fall in ruffles over my upper arms. The boat neck drops just enough to hint at the beginning of a cleavage.

I put it on and admire the reflection in the mirror. Yes, I think this is just the thing. And I’ve spotted a vintage-looking straw hat in Celia’s wardrobe which will go with it wonderfully. Satisfied, I take it all off again and have a long soak in the bath to get rid of the city dust. Afterwards, when I’m wearing a silk robe from the back of Celia’s bathroom door and wandering about the apartment, doing odds and ends, I don’t consciously decide to leave the lights off in the sitting room but somehow I allow the dusk to invade and darken the room anyway. My gaze constantly slides to the dark square opposite, where I hope at any moment to see Dominic. I want to see it burst into golden light so that I can revel in the familiar sight of him moving about. I’m desperate to see him. I’ve been aware of him throughout the day, sometimes even talking to him in my imagination. Now I’m hungry to see him again.