‘What happened?’ he asked softly.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes, it does. It matters because you’ve made it your whole life. If it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t scare you as much as it does.’
‘I’m not scared,’ she said brightly. ‘What is there to be scared of?’
‘You tell me—if you can put it into words.’
‘You’re making something out of nothing. I had a bad experience, but so does everyone.’
‘Yes, but yours went deep enough to damn near destroy you,’ he said in a voice that was mysteriously fierce and gentle at the same time.
That almost shattered her control. Out of sight, she clenched her hands and forced herself to shrug.
‘Look, I lost the man I wanted and it cured me of silly fantasies.’
Hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. He was frowning slightly. ‘And what do you define as “silly fantasies”?’
‘Love lasting for ever. Moon rhyming with June. It’s all a con trick. Have fun, but don’t start believing in it, that’s my motto.’
‘Do you really not believe in people truly loving each other, wanting to give to each other, make sacrifices for each other?’
She gave a little laugh. ‘I believed in it once. Not any more. Let’s leave it.’
‘What happened?’
She shrugged. ‘It turned out that he didn’t believe in it, that’s all. Unfortunately, he discovered that rather late in the day. The wedding was planned, everything booked—the church, the honeymoon. So we had to cancel the arrangements. Very boring, but a useful lesson in reality.’
She finished with a tinkling laugh that made him look at her shrewdly.
‘I see,’ he said, nodding.
‘Do you? I wonder. I don’t suppose you know much about being jilted.’
He didn’t reply for a moment. Then he said simply, ‘Don’t jump to conclusions.’
Suddenly, as though he too had heard the sounding of an alarm, he stepped back, asking, ‘Is there any more tea?’ in a voice whose brittleness matched her own.
‘Yes, I’ll make a fresh cup. Sit down and wait for me.’
He’d revealed more than he’d meant to and was hastily blocking a door he’d half opened. Pippa understood the feeling, having done the same. Now she was glad to escape to the kitchen and have a few moments alone to calm her riotous feelings.
When she felt she’d returned to some sort of normality, she took in the tea and found him studying Dee and Mark’s wedding picture.
‘They were my grandparents,’ she said. ‘They married during the war.’
‘You’re very like her,’ he said.
‘Really? Nobody’s ever said that to me before.’
‘Not in features, but she’s got a cheeky look in her eyes that I’ve seen in yours. It says, “Go on, I dare you!”’
‘Hey, that was her exactly.’
‘Did you know her well?’
‘I lived with the two of them near the end of their lives. When she died, she left me some money on condition I used it to train for a career. It’s funny, I love both my parents, and my brothers, but I was closer to Gran than anyone else. She didn’t stand for any nonsense.’
‘You see; I said you were like her.’
‘Well, she taught me a lot, especially how to get the better of a man.’ She gave a merry chuckle. Now that the dangerous moment had passed, she was slipping back into the persona of Pippa the cheeky urchin. ‘“Let him think he’s winning”, that was her motto. “Make sure he doesn’t find out the truth until it’s too late”.’ She glanced at the picture on the sideboard. ‘And I was a good pupil, wasn’t I, Gran? Top of the class.’
‘You want to be careful having that kind of conversation with your grandmother,’ Roscoe said, grinning. ‘Your grandfather might eavesdrop and discover your secrets.’
‘If he doesn’t know them by now—’ She stopped suddenly, aghast as she heard herself talking as though they were living people. She must sound really mad. ‘That is.’ she resumed hastily ‘.what I mean is.’
‘Pippa—’ he interrupted her gently ‘—you don’t have to tell me what you mean. You really don’t.’
And she didn’t, she realised with a surge of thankfulness. Roscoe understood perfectly.
‘How long were they married? ‘ he asked.
‘Sixty years. We had a big celebration of their anniversary, and neither of them lived very long after that. He died first, and then Gran was just waiting to join him. She used to say he appeared in her dreams and told her to hurry up because he could never find anything without her. In the end, she only kept him waiting three weeks.
‘I remember her saying that she wanted to outlive him, but only by a little. She wanted to be there to look after him as long as he needed her, but then she wanted to follow quickly. And she got her wish.’
Roscoe gave her a strange look. ‘So love does sometimes last for ever?’
‘For their generation, yes. In those days it was expected.’
‘And that’s why they stayed together for sixty years? Because of convention?’
‘No,’ she sighed. ‘That’s not why. They loved each other totally, but just because they could manage it doesn’t mean that everyone. Drink your tea before it gets cold.’
‘Then I must call a taxi and go home. Perhaps you’d have lunch with me tomorrow, when I’m more awake. We’ll discuss the most sensible way to proceed.’
He took out his cellphone but, instead of making the call, he stared at it, then put it down suddenly as though reeling from a blow.
‘If I can just rest for a moment,’ he murmured.
‘Not just for a moment,’ she said. ‘All night.’
‘What was that?’
‘You’re not leaving while you’re in this state. You’d forget where you were going and end up heaven knows where. Come on.’
She reached for him to help him to his feet. Dazed, he let her support him into the bedroom, where a gentle push sent him tumbling onto the bed. She went to recover his suitcases and when she returned he was sprawled out, dead to the world. Quietly, she drew the curtains and turned out the light.
‘Goodnight,’ she whispered, closing the door.
She washed up quietly so that no noise should intrude on him even through the door. As she worked, she tried to believe that this was really happening. Her email had brought Roscoe flying home, despite his problems with jet lag, despite his work, despite his intense need to stay ahead of the game. Despite everything, he’d come speeding back to her.
Before retiring for the night, she opened the door of the bedroom just a crack. Roscoe was lying as she’d left him, his breath coming evenly. She backed out and went to curl up on the sofa.
Who would have imagined that he had an unsuspected frailty? she thought. More—who would have imagined that he would allow her to see it?
Just before she fell asleep, she wondered if Teresa had ever been allowed to know.
She awoke in darkness, feeling slightly