out of her tonight.
‘You mean you’ve been having an affair with him,’ he said, needing to hear it confirmed absolutely.
Christ, he thought, I must be a bloody masochist.
‘ Yes.’
‘Do you
love him?’
Roz shook her head, then raised
herself away from him to meet his gaze. Nico’s slanting green eyes were filled with pain and such
desolate sadness that she wished she hadn’t told him. He was the last person in the world she wanted to hurt,
but the need to talk – her own selfish need to share her problems – had overwhelmed her like a great tidal wave, and she
had been unable to stop herself. Now she wished she hadn’t said it. It
was just one more piece of evidence proving
that she was a total bitch.
‘ So you’ve been having
an affair with this married guy, but you
don’t love him,’ continued Nico, his voice an express ionless drawl. Do
you love me, he longed to say, but you could only
take masochism so far in one evening. Roz didn’t lie and he couldn’t cope with her devastating truthfulness
at this moment.
Please, please don’t ask me, prayed Roz silently at the
same time, her fingers tightening on his
arm. She knew Nico well enough to know exactly what was going through
his mind.
‘ So what’s the problem
– he doesn’t want to see you any more?
I can understand that, of course,’ said Nico, attempting to inject some
humour into the conversation. ‘An ugly, dried-up old spinster like you.’
Roz smiled bleakly, grateful for the
feeble joke but realizing at the same
time that she was in danger of bursting into tears. Kindness was a far more effective method of making her cry than
arguments and recriminations.
‘ He wants to marry me.’
I want to marry you, thought Nico.
Aloud he said: ‘Doesn’t he have a minor obstacle in his path at the moment – like his wife?’
‘ Would you be an angel
and pour us both another drink?’ said Roz resignedly. ‘I think I’d
better tell you exactly what happened at Camilla’s disastrous dinner party.’
Chapter 7
’Right, your week of mourning is up.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life,’ announced Loulou cheerfully, jerking Camilla into wakefulness. It was the
first decent night’s sleep she’d had
since leaving Jack.
‘ What’s this?’ she asked
lazily, as a tray was thrust into her lap,
and Loulou had to lift it for a few seconds whilst she struggled into a
sitting position. The Georgian silver tray was covered with an exquisite cloth of creamy Brussels lace; upon it was a cereal bowl, a crystal vase containing a
single white rose, and a narrow crystal glass.
‘ The cereal bowl is
empty,’ she ventured, and Loulou shook a finger as she collapsed on the
side of the bed.
‘Your eyesight is worse than you realize, my girl. That
bowl contains your breakfast. Here,’ she
thrust a soup spoon into Camilla’s hand. ‘Enjoy.’
Once Camilla had finished her bowl of
breakfast Bollinger with Loulou watching
over her like a nanny, they drank a toast with more of the same to "The
new Camilla.’
‘ But I’m thirty-two,’ she protested.
‘ You can be new at any age, darling. Personally I plan to
be new at seventy, when I shall dye my hair burgundy and take a marvellous lover young enough to be my grandson.
Now hurry up and drink your drink – it’s time to give your poor battered
ego a boost. On second thoughts, I’ll drink
your drink and deprive you of a few more calories. You go and jump on
the scales.’
Light-headed with champagne Camilla did as she was told,
tottering giddily towards the bathroom and shedding her night dress as she went. It was amazing, she thought
hazily, how quickly her inhibitions had fallen away since she had been staying
here with Loulou. Until last week she would never have dreamt that she could walk around naked in
front of another person – she had
been far too self-conscious to do so in
Jack’s presence – but when Loulou took her bath each evening she demanded that
‘You mean you’ve been having an affair with him,’ he said, needing to hear it confirmed absolutely.
Christ, he thought, I must be a bloody masochist.
‘ Yes.’
‘Do you
love him?’
Roz shook her head, then raised
herself away from him to meet his gaze. Nico’s slanting green eyes were filled with pain and such
desolate sadness that she wished she hadn’t told him. He was the last person in the world she wanted to hurt,
but the need to talk – her own selfish need to share her problems – had overwhelmed her like a great tidal wave, and she
had been unable to stop herself. Now she wished she hadn’t said it. It
was just one more piece of evidence proving
that she was a total bitch.
‘ So you’ve been having
an affair with this married guy, but you
don’t love him,’ continued Nico, his voice an express ionless drawl. Do
you love me, he longed to say, but you could only
take masochism so far in one evening. Roz didn’t lie and he couldn’t cope with her devastating truthfulness
at this moment.
Please, please don’t ask me, prayed Roz silently at the
same time, her fingers tightening on his
arm. She knew Nico well enough to know exactly what was going through
his mind.
‘ So what’s the problem
– he doesn’t want to see you any more?
I can understand that, of course,’ said Nico, attempting to inject some
humour into the conversation. ‘An ugly, dried-up old spinster like you.’
Roz smiled bleakly, grateful for the
feeble joke but realizing at the same
time that she was in danger of bursting into tears. Kindness was a far more effective method of making her cry than
arguments and recriminations.
‘ He wants to marry me.’
I want to marry you, thought Nico.
Aloud he said: ‘Doesn’t he have a minor obstacle in his path at the moment – like his wife?’
‘ Would you be an angel
and pour us both another drink?’ said Roz resignedly. ‘I think I’d
better tell you exactly what happened at Camilla’s disastrous dinner party.’
Chapter 7
’Right, your week of mourning is up.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life,’ announced Loulou cheerfully, jerking Camilla into wakefulness. It was the
first decent night’s sleep she’d had
since leaving Jack.
‘ What’s this?’ she asked
lazily, as a tray was thrust into her lap,
and Loulou had to lift it for a few seconds whilst she struggled into a
sitting position. The Georgian silver tray was covered with an exquisite cloth of creamy Brussels lace; upon it was a cereal bowl, a crystal vase containing a
single white rose, and a narrow crystal glass.
‘ The cereal bowl is
empty,’ she ventured, and Loulou shook a finger as she collapsed on the
side of the bed.
‘Your eyesight is worse than you realize, my girl. That
bowl contains your breakfast. Here,’ she
thrust a soup spoon into Camilla’s hand. ‘Enjoy.’
Once Camilla had finished her bowl of
breakfast Bollinger with Loulou watching
over her like a nanny, they drank a toast with more of the same to "The
new Camilla.’
‘ But I’m thirty-two,’ she protested.
‘ You can be new at any age, darling. Personally I plan to
be new at seventy, when I shall dye my hair burgundy and take a marvellous lover young enough to be my grandson.
Now hurry up and drink your drink – it’s time to give your poor battered
ego a boost. On second thoughts, I’ll drink
your drink and deprive you of a few more calories. You go and jump on
the scales.’
Light-headed with champagne Camilla did as she was told,
tottering giddily towards the bathroom and shedding her night dress as she went. It was amazing, she thought
hazily, how quickly her inhibitions had fallen away since she had been staying
here with Loulou. Until last week she would never have dreamt that she could walk around naked in
front of another person – she had
been far too self-conscious to do so in
Jack’s presence – but when Loulou took her bath each evening she demanded that
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