Persuade Me (24 page)

Chapter Fifty-Two

‘And you’re certain it was William?’ Tom swung the pan of frothing chocolate-coloured milk off the hob and poured it expertly into two mugs. ‘You know what your eyesight’s like.’

Jenny gave a weary sigh. ‘And
you
know it’s my short sight that’s the problem, I’m fine if things are further away. Thanks,’ as he handed her one of the mugs, ‘let’s hope I don’t throw this up, I still feel sort of sick … Believe me, I didn’t
want
it to be William – and I probably wouldn’t even have seen his face if he hadn’t been twisting about like – like a cobra preparing to strike.’

‘But the woman – you’ve only ever seen her in that brochure Anna showed us. Was it definitely–’

‘Cléopatra Clé and her Hands of Love? Yes.’ Jenny blew gently on her hot chocolate and gazed unseeingly at the dispersing foam. ‘Oh Tom, I so want Anna to be happy – like us!’

‘That’s up to Anna though, isn’t it?’ he said gruffly. ‘There’s only so much you can do.’

‘I know, it’s just – I’ve got to tell her about this, haven’t I? She must like him a lot, splashing out on that dress for the theatre – completely out of character.’ Another sigh, as she picked up her drink. ‘When we went out with him on Friday evening, I thought there was something … untrustworthy about him – remember? But I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.’

‘Well, you can’t any longer.’ He patted her hand. ‘You’ll have to tell her – and soon.’

This is a struggle, Anna thought, as she paused for a sip of water in the middle of her eleven o’clock lecture. But then what did she expect after so little sleep? Last night, in bed, she’d stared into the darkness and gone through all the words and looks from the weekend, starting with Molland’s on Friday evening and ending with lunch at the Pump Room Restaurant; shuffled them and turned them over in her mind, like a pack of cards. And only one scenario made sense, the one where Rick was trying to get some closure on the past before moving on. She supposed she was doing the same, in her own way. Except that he wanted to move on to someone new, whereas she’d merely discovered why the old love meant so much.

She switched her attention firmly back to her students. ‘As I was saying, Turgenev writes particularly about missed opportunities. Take
First Love
, for example, a poignant tale of being in love with the wrong person …’ So much for work being an escape from her troubles.

Back home, she made a pretence of eating dinner – a few mouthfuls of tinned tomato soup and half a bread roll – while watching
Friends
. Sat at the table looking listlessly through her notes for tomorrow’s lectures. Ignored the ringing phones – landline and mobile – because, for a change, she wasn’t in the mood to humour someone else’s needs.

A knock at the door – that sounded like Jenny. Anna had seen her briefly at lunchtime but, as she had a later start on Mondays, they’d travelled to and from the university separately. She let her in, hoping – for once – that she wouldn’t stay long.

And – for once – Jenny hovered by the door, as if telepathic. ‘You know I don’t like to interfere,’ she began, venturing a smile.

Anna rubbed her temples and waited.

‘Um, can we sit down?’ Jenny said.

‘Of course – sorry, I must have been in some sort of trance. Do you want a coffee?’

‘Got anything stronger?’

‘Yes, some red wine–’ Anna broke off as she recalled William opening her last bottle. Needless to say, his promise to replace it had never materialised. ‘Actually, no, I haven’t.’

Jenny heaved a sigh as she crossed to the sofa. ‘Don’t worry, I’m probably better doing this stone cold sober.’

The first pang of alarm. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Look, why don’t you sit down?’ Jenny patted the sofa beside her.

But Anna’s legs seemed concreted to the floor. She stayed near the door and stared over at Jenny. ‘Just tell me.’ It was about Rick and the new woman in his life, she was absolutely certain. She steeled herself, eyes darting to the painting of Pornichet as if for reassurance that she, too, had once been new and exciting.

Jenny was saying, ‘Last night I saw something that I wasn’t supposed to see – and it’s going to upset you.’

‘OK.’ This is it, she added silently – but how did Jenny know it was going to upset her? With Jenny, she’d always been very tight-lipped about Rick; not like with Sophie and Ed, when she’d more or less given herself away …

She forced herself to listen as Jenny continued, ‘It was about eleven o’clock, and I was walking back from Christina’s along Crescent Lane. One of the back doors to The Royal Crescent Hotel was open and – you know me – I couldn’t resist a quick peek.’ A pause; then, almost apologetically, ‘I saw far more than I bargained for – your father’s masseuse and a man we both know, all over each other.’

Something drummed in Anna’s ears, as though her heart was trying to burst from her body. She heard someone croak, ‘Who was the man?’ and realised it was
her
voice, a husk of its usual self.

Jenny eyed her carefully. ‘William.’

Anna frowned back at her. No way – no way on this earth – could she have mistaken that for ‘Rick’. As it sank in, she smiled – a big, beaming, idiotic smile.

Now it was Jenny’s turn to frown. ‘It’s true, I saw his face!’

And Anna felt her voice recover its strength and bubble out of her in a laugh. ‘Good! They deserve each other.’

An incredulous look. ‘You mean you’re not bothered?’

‘Why should I be?’ Anna flopped down on the sofa beside her friend; those concrete legs had suddenly turned to jelly.

‘Because – well, I thought you cared for him.’

‘I do, I suppose – but not in that way. Definitely not in that way.’ There was only one man she cared for in
that
way … She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. Oh shit, she mustn’t get upset like this; thank God Jenny wasn’t wearing her specs.

‘But why did you buy–’ Jenny stopped. ‘Never mind, I’m just glad you’re OK with it. Although it does beg the question – why’s William shagging Cléopatra Clé?’

Anna took a deep calming breath. ‘I imagine he’s desperate to keep her away from Walter, in case any little Walters come along and stop him becoming the 9th Baronet of Kellynch. He can’t sell the baronetcy, but it still has considerable value to him. There’ll always be people who trust a man with a title more than a man without, for whatever reason – pretty useful if you’re flogging expensive investment advice.’ She made a face. ‘And who knows? If Cleo really is working miracles with Walter, she must be pretty good in bed.’

Jenny chuckled. ‘From what I saw, they’d never have made it as far as her bed.’ A pause, then she added, ‘Wait a minute, if William’s going to seduce every deluded female who has designs on your father – or, more likely, Kellynch – he could be a busy man.’

‘I suppose so.’ Anna thought for a moment. ‘But then, so far, Lisa and Minty have been a pretty formidable barrier. Cleo only got under Lisa’s radar because she performed a useful function – making Lisa feel beautiful. And I heard yesterday that William’s looking to live near Kellynch, presumably to keep a closer eye on Walter. Between the three of them, they should see off any future Cleos.’

‘Do you think Lisa and William will get back together?’

‘If she doesn’t find out about Cleo – yes, I do. But if she does – I’m not so sure.’ Anna bit her lip. ‘Which puts me in a bit of a quandary – should I tell Lisa about this, or not?’

‘What would happen if you didn’t? Wouldn’t she find out herself, sooner or later?’

‘Probably. But I’d feel guilty that, for a while at least, I knew – and she didn’t.’

‘Tell her, then. Just don’t be surprised when she shoots the messenger.’ Jenny got to her feet. ‘Well, I’d better go and put Tom out of his misery. He was worried you’d be distraught about William.’ She made for the door, then spun round. ‘By the way, did you see the email from BRLSI?’

‘No – what about?’ They were both volunteers for the Bath Royal Literary and Scientific Institution in Queen Square, helping out at events and exhibitions. Along with many of her university colleagues, Anna had given talks there herself; there seemed to be an indefatigable interest among BRLSI members in the likes of Tolstoy and Dostoevsky and their impact on western culture.

‘Bob’s desperate,’ Jenny was saying. ‘Remember he emailed the other day to tell us that the science lecture a week on Friday was cancelled? Now Molland’s want that date for another Rick Wentworth event. They reckon they can fill the place – starting with the people who missed out on tickets last Friday.’ She sighed. ‘Only trouble is, Bob can’t be there – after the cancellation, he decided to book a weekend break. Any chance you can stand in for him? I can’t, Tom and I are going out.’

She would go, even if it was just to say goodbye. No more Missed Opportunities.

‘Thanks for letting me know.’ She forced a smile. ‘I’ll check my diary, but I think I’m free. Can’t let Bob down, can I?’

Chapter Fifty-Three

Away on his tour of northern England, in an attempt to keep his dark mood at bay, Rick had acquired a new routine. Before it was light, he got up and went for a run, enjoying the early-morning anonymity if not the autumn chill. Next – shower, breakfast and his first encounter of the day with Dave. He always went through the motions of checking the itinerary, but in fact Dave could have driven him to the same place each time and he’d have been practically none the wiser. Except when he went back to his old secondary school in County Durham – Stephenson country, as railway-buff Dave called it; there he did a different talk, all about making the best of yourself and finding work you could feel passionate about. In an area where the only job security was at the local unemployment office, and coming from a man who’d forgotten what passion felt like, it all sounded rather hollow.

He spent most of his days travelling with Dave, eating with Dave, giving talks and signing books for people he didn’t know and never would. Back in his room – each night a different hotel, yet they were all uncannily similar – he made a rule never to open the mini bar. Mind you, he usually had a couple of pints with his evening meal; he realised how much he’d missed the rusty tang of English beer. Finally, to the drone of some late-night film on TV, he would drift off to sleep.

And then the dreams would start. Oh, Annie …

But gradually, he came to see what he’d shared with Anna more clearly – and to accept it as a unique and amazing part of his past, even if it would never be part of his future. What about the present? Well, he resolved to get through the rest of his visit to England and, along the way, show Anna the same generosity of spirit that she had shown him ever since he arrived.

That was why he wanted to phone her, or so he told himself; to apologise for storming out of the theatre and arrange to see her again. Except that he rang her mobile several evenings running and got no answer. Then, at last, she picked up.

‘Anna?’

Silence.

‘It’s me.’ A pause. ‘Rick.’

‘I know.’

‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Again. And I’m back in Bath next Friday–’

‘I know.’

‘Can I see you?’

Another silence; then, ‘If you want. I’ll be at your talk.’ And she hung up. Even worse, when he rang back she didn’t answer.

Then Ben phoned to say that he was planning to come to Bath on the same day as Rick. ‘I’ve got a meeting at the university in the afternoon, then I thought we could meet up for a few drinks.’ He chuckled. ‘I was even going to come to your talk, but I can’t get a ticket – they’ve sold out.’

‘You can come as my guest,’ Rick said, ‘as long as you don’t heckle.’

‘Now there’s an idea – I could tell the audience about some of your exploits from our student days, I’m sure they’d be riveted.’

Rick forced a laugh. ‘I’ll look forward to it, haven’t had any adverse publicity since last Sunday.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Just one problem – there’s someone I need to see straight after my talk, and I don’t know how long it’ll take. Are you planning to stay overnight?’

‘If I’m out with you – definitely! And of course, when you’ve got three small kids, the thought of an uninterrupted night’s sleep is always appealing.’ Ben paused. ‘Got anywhere in mind?’

‘I’ll text you the number of the hotel where I’ll be staying. There’s a decent pub just round the corner, so we won’t have far to stagger back after a beer or two.’

It was a relief to think that, as soon as he’d seen Anna, he’d be able to go and drown his sorrows with Ben. There’d be no time to dwell on anything; no time at all.

Chapter Fifty-Four

For Anna, the days leading up to Rick’s talk dragged so much that even a visit from William – or at least an attempt at one – was a welcome distraction. He rang her doorbell the evening after Rick’s phone call, making her jump and wonder if it was Rick himself … But it wasn’t, of course.

He drawled over the intercom, ‘Special delivery for Anna Elliot!’

She played dumb. ‘Which company are you from?’

‘Anna, darling, just let me in. It’s bloody cold out here.’

‘Shame, it’s bloody warm up here,’ she said, flippantly. Then, in a sterner tone, ‘What exactly do you want?’

‘Where do I start?’ His voice turned to honey, sweet and slow and thick with complacency. ‘I’ve got a crate of red wine, to replace the bottle I opened. Some exciting news about Kellynch. And Moët & Chandon, for a little celebration.’

‘What are you celebrating?’

‘I can’t talk to you like this,’ he wheedled. ‘Why don’t you just buzz me up and I’ll reveal all over a glass of champagne?’

‘I never let strange men into my flat.’ There – she’d thrown down the gauntlet; although she didn’t feel as calm and collected as she hoped she sounded.

‘Anna, darling, what can you possibly mean?’ But, for the first time, she detected a thread of unease running through the silky-smooth charm. ‘I’ve already been in your flat, just the other week. You didn’t think me strange then, did you?’

‘But I do now.’

A nervous laugh. ‘I think you’d better explain that cryptic little comment face to face. Buzz me up, there’s a good girl, before I freeze to death.’

‘But I’m not a good girl.’ She took a deep breath and went for it. ‘And is it any colder than Sunday, when you were enjoying the night air outside the back door of The Pavilion?’

Silence. Then a guarded ‘What did you see?’

‘Enough. I haven’t decided when or how to tell Lisa – yet. And I’ll have to tell Walter, I suppose, although I’m sure you’ll give him some bullshit about sacrificing your own happiness with Lisa to save him from social and financial ruin with Cleo.’

‘But Anna, that’s exactly what I’m doing – sacrificing my own happiness.’ He paused, then rushed on, ‘Don’t judge me too harshly, I’ll tell you everything if you’ll just let me in.’

‘But William – don’t you understand? You don’t need to tell me
anything
. What there was between us in the past – a brief, teenage friendship – no longer exists.’ She added, with a sigh of irritation, ‘And your sudden interest now just doesn’t add up, you could have got in touch with me when you first met Lisa in London – but you didn’t.’

‘When I met her, I was in a mess – and I was afraid that you wouldn’t like me any more.’

Anna gave a short, mirthless laugh. ‘And did you honestly think I’d still like you after you’d dumped my sister for a millionaire’s lifestyle and drug-fuelled sex – or whatever was on offer from Brandi Berette?’

‘Believe me, I’ve changed. Can’t you see I’m trying to redeem myself?’

‘Oh yes, fawning over Lisa, keeping your options open, while–’

He cut in with, ‘I wouldn’t give her the time of day if I thought there was any chance with you!’ His voice trembled, as if with emotion. But wasn’t that just part of his act?

‘You’ve as much chance as a snowball in hell,’ she said, coolly. ‘Unlike you, I’d rather have no one at all than make do with second best.’ And she flicked the intercom switch firmly off.

Now, at last, it was the day of the BRLSI talk and she was trying to relax in the hottest, bubbliest bath she’d had for a long time. No more calls from Rick as far as she could tell, thank God. Maybe, like her, he’d realised that there was no point talking on the phone. She hadn’t seen or heard from William since his attempted visit; and, unusually, Minty hadn’t been in touch either – which suggested that she’d heard William’s side of the story and wasn’t in a hurry to listen to Anna’s.

Anna’s thoughts turned to Lisa, who she’d invited out for a coffee last Saturday morning. Lisa had reacted to the news about William and Cleo as negatively as Jenny had predicted, slamming her cup down on its saucer and accusing her sister of being insanely jealous and intent on sabotaging William’s relationships. Apparently, during his visit to Kellynch with Minty the previous Monday, he’d fallen in love with the place and was full of plans for ‘sweating the asset’. This would, of course, involve him moving into The Lodge – the ideal base for turning his plans into reality. As soon as Anna had wondered out loud whether, being at some distance from the main house, it would also be the ideal base for secret assignations with Cleo, Lisa had stormed out of the café.

With only a couple of hours to Rick’s talk, however, it was time to forget family feuds and calm the butterflies in her stomach. Even if his new woman was with him at the talk, she thought as she slipped into her pale-grey wool dress, she’d behave with dignity and wish him well. She brushed her hair until it gleamed, sprayed Cool Water on her pulse points and pulled on her black suede boots. A glance in the mirror told her that she looked just as she had at the theatre.

Oh God, if she closed her eyes, she could still hear him saying, ‘Nice dress’ …

She wrapped herself in her heavy, dark-green coat, locked up the flat and set off on the short walk to Queen Square.

Friday evening promised to be free of rain, and Dave didn’t need much persuading to have the night off. Rick took the umbrella with him, just in case – although, he reflected with a rueful smile, based on what had happened at his last talk in Bath it was hardly a lucky mascot.

There was a spring in his step as he walked with Ben from their hotel to Queen Square. In a matter of hours, the Anna situation would be resolved; he’d then have a few days with Sophie and Ed to look forward to, before returning to Australia. He was determined to tackle his work with fresh enthusiasm and renewed focus; finding ways to make the marine world a better place would offer enough challenge to fill his life for the foreseeable future.

In this positive frame of mind, he even welcomed Ben’s news that Charles would be joining them. Since Lyme Regis, Charles had been bombarding Ben with emails about fishing management; when Ben had mentioned coming to Bath to meet Rick, Charles – already in Bath for a business seminar – had leapt at the chance of continuing their discussions face to face. OK, so Rick would have preferred a night out where the conversation didn’t revolve around fish stock assessment methods and catch effort sampling strategies, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And, as far as Anna was concerned, weren’t he and Charles in more or less the same boat? He imagined a ridiculous scenario where, as the beer flowed, they shed their inhibitions and compared notes.

Which reminded him, had he brought his notes with him for tonight? He slipped his hand inside his coat and felt in his jacket pocket. Yes, he had. By now, of course, they were a prop rather than a necessity; he’d got his talk – a longer version of the one he’d done at Molland’s – word perfect over the last twelve days.

They reached the square and Rick glanced round appreciatively; it was a jewel of Georgian architecture, discreetly floodlit, with a slim stone obelisk in the centre. The BRLSI building was on the west side and, as they approached the main entrance, Ben asked about the timings for the rest of the evening so that he could text Charles.

‘I’ll be talking for exactly thirty-eight minutes,’ Rick said. ‘Say forty, by the time you top and tail it with a few words from the bookshop manager.’ He walked swiftly through the outer and inner doors, into a large reception area intersected by free-standing display boards – some sort of art exhibition, by the look of it. ‘Probably best if Charles meets you here at about quarter-past eight,’ he went on. ‘Then you two can go to the pub and I’ll come along later.’ He recognised the tall blonde girl from Molland’s standing by the front desk, and flashed a smile. ‘The book signing will take a good hour, depending on numbers, of course. Then, as I said before, there’s someone I need to–’

His voice sheared off into silence. The blonde had moved away to reveal a woman sitting at the desk. A woman in a silver-grey dress that drew his eyes to the pale satin skin of her shoulders and throat. A woman who blushed and gave him one brief, conscious look that pierced his soul and sent wild, wonderful hopes soaring …

‘Hey – it’s Anna, isn’t it?’ Ben said cheerfully, walking up to her. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be here.’

Her colour deepened. ‘I’m one of BRLSI’s regular volunteers, they were desperate for help tonight.’

Was that the only reason she was here? Just as abruptly, Rick’s wild, wonderful hopes plummeted to earth.

‘So you’re the same as me – giving up your Friday evening to see Rick’s fan club in action?’ Ben chuckled. ‘I hope – for all our sakes – that the talk’s worth listening to.’

‘Anna’s already heard it,’ Rick put in. He stood right beside the desk – so close that he could have captured her small, slim hand in his – and heard himself say, with a ragged intake of breath, ‘You told me it wasn’t what you’d expected, remember?’

He willed her eyes to meet his; but she lowered her gaze to the neatly typed page of A4 in front of her and said gravely, ‘At least I know what to expect tonight.’ Then she jumped to her feet, all brisk and business-like. ‘I need to show you where you’re giving your talk. It’s the Elwin room, on the first floor.’ She called across to the blonde who was studying one of the display boards. ‘Amanda, would you cover the desk for me, please?’

As they followed Anna out of the room, Ben said, ‘Is there anywhere to leave our coats?’

She nodded. ‘You can use the Lonsdale room, which is also upstairs. In fact, you might be better staying there until it’s time for the talk to start.’ She turned to Rick and added gently, ‘It’ll be more private, if you need to collect your thoughts.’ He flushed; did she know that they’d scattered far and wide as soon as he’d seen her?

Climbing the stairs behind her, he couldn’t help reflecting that her dress really was like a second skin … And then he had to get his brain in gear as they entered a large, rectangular, high-ceilinged room, with row upon row of chairs facing a long table and a lectern at one end.

‘Elwin seats a hundred, but we’ve also opened up Murch – through here.’ She walked towards the speaker’s table and gestured to her right, where folded-back partition doors gave access to a little ante-room. Rick did a quick count of the chairs set out in Murch, then went to stand at the lectern.

‘So, there’ll be about twenty people to my left,’ he said, frowning in concentration. ‘Which means I need to remember to make eye contact with them, as well as everyone else.’

‘Exactly. Your books are here–’ she indicated neat piles of
Sex in the Sea
on a smaller table in the corner – ‘and I’ll make sure you have a carafe of water. I’ll take you to Lonsdale now, if you like.’

They followed her back through Elwin and into a smaller room, with chairs around a large table and the skeleton of a massive reptile-like creature sprawling across one of its cream-coloured walls.

Rick looked at the skeleton and gave a long, low whistle. ‘A plesiosaur!’

Anna smiled. ‘Probably the most famous item in the BRLSI’s collection. A nineteenth-century plaster cast, rather than the original fossil – but impressive, all the same.’

‘Some sort of marine super-predator, wasn’t it?’ Ben said, scanning the information panel just below the skull.

Rick nodded slowly, still stunned. ‘Otherwise known as a 200-million-year-old sea dragon.’ He glanced across at Anna and then wished he hadn’t; her face was alive with the look of someone who’d just seen their thoughtfulness rewarded – a look of pure, unguarded delight. And it took him back to their time together on the boat, moment after moment of pure, unguarded delight … He cleared his throat. ‘No wonder you suggested this would be a good place to collect my thoughts – thank you. And now I’d better start reading through my notes.’

‘That’s what I do, too, before all my lectures.’ She hesitated, then became brisk and business-like again. ‘Can I get either of you a drink?’

‘Not for me, thanks.’ Rick went to the table and pulled out a chair, while Ben explained, ‘We’ll be having plenty of liquid refreshment later – what you might call a boys’ night out.’ He turned his attention back to the information panel.

She frowned, as though puzzled by his answer; but all she said was, ‘I’d better go and see what’s happening downstairs.’

She didn’t go immediately, however; and, when Rick propped his umbrella on the chair next to him and took off his coat, she stared at his black jacket, blue jumper and jeans so intently that he wanted to ask, Do you like these as much as you said you did at the theatre? Because that’s why I’m wearing them – at least you’ll remember me at my best when we say goodbye.

And then, as he dropped his coat over the chair, she darted forward and retrieved the umbrella, clutching it to her as if it was the most precious thing in the world.

‘You might forget this later.’ Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

‘How could I?’ he said, just as quietly. ‘Some things are unforgettable.’

A long pause, her big grey eyes soft and searching. ‘But still unforgivable?’

He held her gaze, took a deep breath and was about to reply when Ben called over, ‘Anna, I think I will have a drink after all. Coffee, white, one sugar – if that’s OK?’

‘Coffee. Yes. Of course.’ Anna gave Rick one last, lingering look, laid the umbrella carefully on the table and left the room.

And, once again, those wild, wonderful hopes took wing.

‘Some things are unforgettable.’ Did she dare believe that he was talking about her rather than the umbrella? Could it be that, like her, he was deliberately wearing the clothes he’d had on when they last met? And had she heard Ben right when he said they were having a boys’ night out?

The questions circled in her head, but the answers were back in the Lonsdale room; and, when she returned there with Ben’s coffee, her heart was pounding at the prospect of discovering them. She needn’t have worried, however; Rick was sitting reading at the table, and he kept his head down as she came in.