Mr. (Not Quite) Perfect (16 page)

‘Let’s go and look upstairs,’ said Allegra eventually, and Max followed her up the spiral staircase. At the top she stopped so abruptly that he ran into her.

‘Careful—’ he began, but then he saw what had brought her up short. A huge portrait dominated the wall facing the staircase. It showed a young woman in a languorous pose, her arm thrown above her head and a satiated smile on her face. But it wasn’t the overtly sexual feel to the painting that made Max’s face burn. It was the woman’s face, and the expression that was carnal and tender at the same time.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ Bronya had followed them upstairs and stood beside them, misinterpreting their silence. She glanced at Max and Allegra. ‘She and Jago had a passionate affair, oh, it must be twenty-five years ago now.’

She laughed lightly. ‘I was jealous of her for a long time. I was so afraid that Jago would go back to her, but their affair must have ended very bitterly, I think. She was his passion, and I was his love, that’s what he always told me. It’s sad it didn’t work out. You can see how much she loved him in her face, can’t you?’

‘Yes,’ said Allegra in a strange wooden voice. She was very white about the mouth, and Max moved closer to put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

‘Perhaps you recognise her?’ Bronya paused delicately, looking curiously at Allegra.

‘Oh, yes,’ Allegra said, and turned to look straight at her. ‘That’s my mother.’

‘Oh my God...’ Bronya’s hand crept to her mouth. ‘Your eyes! That’s why you seemed familiar...you’ve got Jago’s eyes!’ She stared at Allegra. ‘You’re his daughter!’

* * *

Max was worried about Allegra. She looked cold and lost as she stood on the pavement outside the gallery. He’d tried to put his arms round her, but she side-stepped his hug, holding herself together with an effort that left her rigid.

‘I’ll take you home,’ he said, but she shook her head.

‘I need to talk to my mother,’ she said, and Max flagged down a taxi without arguing.

She hadn’t said anything in the taxi, and now the taxi was pulling up outside Flick’s house. ‘Would you like me to come in with you?’ he asked, not liking the frozen expression on her face.

‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘I think this is a conversation Flick and I have to have on our own.’

‘I’ll wait then,’ said Max.

‘Don’t be silly.’ At least he’d brought a flicker of animation to her face and she even managed a smile of sorts. ‘I could be hours. You go on home.’

Max didn’t like it, but he could hardly insist on barging in with her so he waited until Allegra was inside before giving the taxi driver directions back to the house.

He couldn’t settle. He threw himself on the sofa, then got up to go to the kitchen. He switched on the television, turned it off. He kept thinking of Allegra, and how she must have felt learning who her father was after all those years of not knowing. Why hadn’t Flick told her? Max knew how much Allegra had yearned for a father. He’d seen how wistfully she had watched his father with Libby and, although his father treated her as an honorary daughter, it wasn’t the same as having a father of her own.

The sound of her key in the lock had him leaping to his feet and he made it into the narrow hallway in time to see Allegra closing the front door. She was still wearing his jacket and when she turned her face wore an expression that made Max’s heart turn over.

He didn’t think. He just opened his arms and she walked right into them without a word.

Max folded her against him and rested his cheek on her hair as she clung to him, trembling. She was cold and tired and distressed, but holding her gave him the first peace he’d had in days.

‘Come on,’ he said gently at last. ‘I’ll get you a drink. You look like you need it.’

He made her sit on the sofa while he poured her a shot of whisky. Allegra eyed the glass he handed her dubiously. ‘I don’t really like whisky,’ she said.

‘Drink it anyway,’ said Max.

Reluctantly she took a sip and choked but, after patting her chest and grimacing hugely, the colour started to come back to her cheeks and she tried again.

Max sat on the sofa beside her, but not too close. ‘Better?’

‘Funnily enough, yes.’ She swirled the whisky around in the glass and her smile faded. ‘I just made my mother cry,’ she told Max. ‘I don’t feel very good about it.’

The indomitable Flick Fielding had
cried
? Max couldn’t imagine it at all.

‘What did she say when you told her about the portrait?’

‘She was furious at first,’ said Allegra. ‘The portrait was supposed to have been destroyed, Bronya had no right to bring it to London, she would slap an injunction on her to make her remove it... She was pacing around her study, absolutely wild, but when I said it was a beautiful picture she just stopped and covered her face with her hands. It was like she just collapsed.’ Allegra took another slug of whisky. ‘I’ve never seen Flick cry before. It was awful.’

‘Is it true? Was Jago Forrest your father?’

She nodded. ‘Everything Bronya told us was true. They did have this incredibly passionate affair. Flick said that she was too young to know better but it’s obvious even now that she loved him. Maybe she still does. She said that it almost destroyed her when he left her.’

Absently, Allegra sipped her whisky. ‘It’s funny to think of her being young and desperately in love, but it also makes a kind of sense now. She’s hidden behind a mask of cool intelligence so that no one guesses that she was ever that vulnerable. I suppose keeping everyone at arm’s length means that nobody has a chance to hurt you.’ Allegra’s expression was sad. ‘Poor Flick.’

‘Poor you,’ said Max, unable to resist reaching over to tuck a stray hair back behind her ear. ‘What happened?’

‘Flick got pregnant but Jago didn’t want a child.’ Max could tell Allegra was struggling to keep her voice level, and he moved closer to put a comforting arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him gratefully, still cradling the glass between her hands.

‘He gave her the money for a termination, but at the last moment, Flick decided she didn’t want to go through with it and Jago was furious. He told her it was him or the baby, and she chose to have the baby.’ Allegra swallowed. ‘She was convinced that he loved her too much to really let her go, and she thought if she could just show him his child he’d change his mind.’

‘And he didn’t?’

Allegra shook her head. ‘Flick said she took me round to his studio after I was born. She said she couldn’t believe he would be able to resist me. She said I was perfect.’ Her voice wobbled a little and she took another slug of whisky to steady it.

‘She said, “You were absolutely perfect, and he looked at you as if you were a slug”, and then he told her she would have to choose once and for all. He wanted her to get rid of me, apparently, and when she refused, that was it. He said that as far as he was concerned he’d washed his hands of the problem when he gave her money for the abortion, so she could forget asking him for any support.’

Max tightened his arm around Allegra. She was doing pretty well telling the story, but he’d seen her face when she repeated what Flick had told her about Jago’s reaction. Doubtless it had been hard for Flick, but couldn’t she have spared Allegra knowing that her father had looked at her as if she were a slug?

‘And was that it?’ he asked.

‘She never saw him again and she was too angry and bitter to pursue him for support. She wouldn’t discuss him at all.’

‘I can see it was hard for her,’ said Max, ‘but why didn’t she tell you? You had a right to know who your father was.’

Allegra let out a long sigh. ‘She said she knew that if she told me I’d want to get in touch with Jago, and she was afraid that he’d reject me the way he’d rejected her. And I think, from what Bronya told us, he probably would have done. He was a genius, but he doesn’t sound a very kind person. Flick said she couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting me.’ She swallowed hard. ‘She said she was sorry—I don’t think she’s ever said that to me before. I hated seeing her so upset. It was like the world turning upside down.’

‘You’re upset too,’ Max pointed out. ‘It’s been just as hard for you.’

‘Well, at least I know who my father was now,’ said Allegra bravely. ‘And I understand Flick better. I used to think that she didn’t really want me,’ she confided, ‘but she gave up her great passion for me, and she tried to protect me, so that feels good to know.’

‘It was a lot for you to learn in one day,’ said Max, a faint frown in his eyes. Allegra’s composure was brittle and he could feel the tension in her body. ‘How do you feel?’

‘I’m fine,’ she said brightly. ‘I just...well, it’s not every day you find out your father is a famous artist.’

‘Would you rather not have known?’ Max asked gently.

‘No, it’s better to know,’ said Allegra. ‘At least I can stop dreaming.’ She smiled as if it hurt. ‘I used to think that the only reason I didn’t have a father was because Flick hadn’t told him about me. I dreamt that he’d find out about me somehow and come and find me, and I’d be so precious to him. He’d look at me the way your dad looks at Libby.’

Her mouth started to wobble and she took her bottom lip between her teeth to keep it steady. ‘So I suppose...I always, always wanted a father, but now it turns out that I had a father but he didn’t want me.’

Her face crumpled and Max, who was normally terrified of tears, gathered her on to his lap as she let go of the storm of emotion at last. His throat tight, he held her softly and let her cry it all out until the wrenching sobs subsided to juddering sighs.

‘Jago might have been a genius, but he was a fool,’ he murmured, touching his lips to her hair without thinking. ‘He missed out on knowing just what an amazing daughter he had.’

‘I’m not amazing,’ she said, muffled in his collar. ‘My father was a genius, and Flick’s got drive and intelligence, and I’m just...me. I’m not particularly good at anything.’ Her voice clogged with tears again. ‘And now I know what Flick gave up for me, I can understand just what a disappointment I am to her. I can’t be what she wants me to be.’

‘Then be what
you
want to be,’ said Max. He put her away from him and held her at arm’s length so that he could smooth her tangled hair back from her face and look straight into her eyes. ‘You’ve spent your whole life trying to please your mother, Legs, and now it’s time to please yourself. Decide what you want to do, and do it.’

* * *

Decide what you want
. What Allegra really wanted was for Max not to go to Shofrar, but how could she beg him to stay when she knew how much the job meant to him? He’d let her cry over him, and she knew how much he must have hated that. Telling him how much she dreaded him going would have been little more than emotional blackmail.

So she’d knuckled the mascara from under her eyes and put on a smile and pretended that she was fine.

And now he was leaving. His bags were packed and sitting neatly in the hallway. The taxi to take him to Heathrow was due any minute.

The last few days had been a blur. Max’s colleagues had thrown a leaving party for him. Allegra hadn’t asked, but she was sure that Emma would have been there. The following night Dickie had insisted on farewell drinks in the pub Max had introduced him to. Darcy had come with William. She’d hugged Max and wished him well but it was obvious that she only had eyes for William now. Libby rang from Paris, Max’s parents from Northumberland.

But now everybody had gone, the phone was silent and it was just the two of them waiting for the taxi in the sitting room. Allegra’s heart was knocking painfully against her ribs. She didn’t know whether she was dreading the moment of saying goodbye or longed for it to come so that at least this awful waiting would be over. It was early, not yet seven, and Allegra would normally have been in bed, but she couldn’t let him leave without saying goodbye.

Without saying thank you.

She had come downstairs in her old pyjama bottoms and a camisole top, pulling on a cardigan against the crispness of the autumn morning. Her face was bare, her hair tousled.

There was too much to say, and not enough. Allegra’s throat ached with the longing to tell Max that she loved him, but what would be the point? She didn’t want to embarrass him, and besides, Emma would be waiting for him at the airport.

‘Can you let me have Max’s flight details?’ Emma had rung the night before. Allegra had forgotten how friendly and downright
nice
Emma was. It was obvious that Max hadn’t told her about the night he and Allegra had spent together, and it had certainly never crossed Emma’s mind that Allegra might be any kind of rival.

Because she wasn’t. She was the one who had told Max that they should pretend that night had never happened, Allegra reminded herself. She could hardly blame him when that was exactly what he did. It wasn’t his fault that she had fallen in love with him.

Allegra was doing her best to convince herself that her feelings for him were just a temporary infatuation. Falling properly in love with him would be such a totally stupid thing to do. Again and again, Allegra ticked her way through a mental list of reasons why loving Max was a bad idea, and Emma was right there at the top.

Emma would be waiting for him when he got to the airport, and Allegra was fairly certain that she was going to tell Max that she
loved him. If Allegra told him the same thing, it would put Max in an impossible situation.

Or maybe not. If you were Max, going out to work in the desert, and you had to choose between a ditzy fashionista and a genuinely nice, attractive fellow engineer who would be able to share your life completely, how hard a choice would it be?

Not very hard at all.

So Allegra stuck with agonising small talk when all she wanted to say was
I love you, I love you, I love you
.

Max was no more at ease and their conversation kept coming out in sticky dollops, only to dry up just when they thought they’d got going.

He hadn’t learnt a thing about style. He was wearing one of his old suits, and if he hadn’t deliberately chosen his dreariest shirt and tie it had been a lucky accident that he’d succeeded in putting on both. He looked dull and conventional.