Persuade Me Page 11

  Anna wasn’t there.

  Rick had last seen her when he and Lou were fooling around at the stile. In fact, he’d been thinking about her and Charles; and, on the spur of the moment, he’d wanted to show that, unlike her, he could be open and upfront about kissing someone.

  Then Lou had knocked his little theory for six and everything had changed. Now he was fighting new feelings alongside old memories. Shame at jumping so readily to the wrong conclusion. Hesitation about his behaviour with Lou. And a growing fear of ‘what if’: what if, like Charles, he wasn’t over Anna Elliot at all?

  Anna let a good five minutes pass before she too set off for the barn. Just as she arrived, Mona and Charles came out with Lou and Rick. Tired from the fresh air and her broken night, Anna stumbled and almost fell; but no one seemed to notice.

  Charles greeted her warmly. ‘Anna, at last! I wondered where you were, thought you must be having a nice little rest somewhere.’ He gave a triumphant grin. ‘Henrietta’s staying here with Kyle, but we’re going back to the Great House now. Taking the long route – still got an awful lot of crumble to walk off. Is that OK with you?’

  It wasn’t; but she merely said, ‘Yes, it’s fine,’ then crouched down to retie her shoelace. The others didn’t wait and she kept her eyes lowered until they’d filed past. She’d already seen that Lou had draped herself around Rick and she didn’t think she could handle any more displays of affection, not yet. As for Charles and Mona, she’d hoped to walk with them to avoid being alone with her thoughts for a while longer. But she could tell that they were in the middle of one of their arguments, and she of all people should keep her distance. So she waited until they were all a good fifty yards in front before setting off again.

  With nobody to distract her, she found herself brooding. Stupid idea to come on this walk, she should have stood up to Barbara. And, if she was this tired, the drive home would be more of a pain than usual. But all that was nothing compared to the realisation that Rick wanted to be with Lou. How would she get through the next few weeks? She could put off meeting them – claim pressure of work and stay in Bath – but that wouldn’t stop Mona from giving her spiteful little updates.

  She forced herself to look up and saw Rick stop to answer his mobile; obviously not a simple call, because he waved Lou on ahead. Anna decided to overtake him while he was on the phone; that way there’d be less chance of another agonising non-conversation.

  As soon as she’d quickened her pace and walked past, she heard him say, ‘My sister’s offering you a lift back to the Great House. Or the Cottage, if you prefer.’

  She kept going; he couldn’t possibly be talking to her.

  ‘Anna.’

  It was the first time he’d used her name to her face, or at least to the back of her head. She spun round and stared at him.

  He avoided her gaze. ‘I said, Sophie and Ed can give you a lift.’

  She ignored her aching legs, and squared her shoulders. ‘I don’t need one.’

  He looked straight at her for a moment, his eyes flashing. ‘Don’t be so bloody-minded, you can hardly put one foot in front of the other!’ Then he gestured at the road, just visible through a hedge to his left, and said in a calmer tone, ‘They’ll be coming along there any minute now.’

  Sure enough, a Land Rover came lurching into view and screeched to a halt next to a gap in the hedge. Anna bit her lip. To refuse again would probably earn her another accusation of being bloody-minded; and, anyway, he was right – she was struggling.

  She headed towards the gap, then stopped dead. It was guarded by a stile; not so much a physical barrier as a psychological one, given what she’d witnessed earlier. As she hesitated, Rick jumped on to the lower plank, stepped over the crossbar to the other side – and held out his hand.

  His eyes wouldn’t meet hers and he seemed tense and impatient; but she placed her hand in his as though the last ten years had never been.

  When she relived it all later, it was like a slow-motion dance where they touched in mocking memory of more intimate encounters. Her fingers embraced in his as he helped her on to the stile … His hands on her waist, lifting her over and down … His arm guiding her gently to the Land Rover … Both hands again at her waist, lifting her up …

  ‘Budge up, Soph,’ his voice behind her, so close that she felt his breath ruffle her hair, ‘make some room for your passenger. Any tea left in that thermos – or is it gin today? Either’ll do, she needs looking after.’

  While Sophie laughed and shuffled further along the front seat, he set Anna carefully down beside her, holding on for a split second longer than necessary – or was she imagining it? Then he simply turned away, vaulted the stile and walked off without a backward glance.

  Whereas she …

  Sophie’s voice roused her. ‘Quite the gentleman, our Rick. When he wants to be.’ She gave Anna an appraising look. ‘No wonder he was concerned, you seem rather … out of breath.’

  Anna felt her cheeks flush, and made sure her face was hidden as she fastened her seat belt. ‘Yes, I’m whacked, lucky for me that you were passing.’

  Ed chuckled as he drove off. ‘Not really passing. Rick phoned us ten minutes ago – didn’t you fall over or something? He checked where we could meet you with the Land Rover and told us to get up here quick.’

  She frowned. ‘But didn’t you ring him, just now?’

  ‘Yes, to say we were only a couple of minutes away,’ Sophie put in; after a slight pause, she went on, ‘He seemed quite anxious – you’ve obviously made an impression.’

  Anna closed her eyes briefly. If only Sophie knew how wrong she was to speculate about a Rick-Anna romance. She obviously didn’t know a thing about their previous relationship.

  ‘I think it was because I was holding everyone up,’ she said, adding, ‘and I should tell you that – well, it looks like Rick’s getting together with Lou.’

  ‘God, what an idiot!’ Sophie’s lips tightened. ‘Although, given the way she’s been throwing herself at him, who can blame him? Of course, it’ll all end in tears – and they won’t be his.’

  Anna said nothing. She was a little surprised at the speed of events herself; Rick had taken things far more slowly with her. But they’d both been so much younger, overflowing with hopes and dreams …

  She stared silently out of the window while Sophie and Ed negotiated a particularly tricky set of road junctions. If she’d been in a happier mood, she’d have found it amusing: a few wrong turns by Ed despite Sophie’s calm directions, all accompanied by occasional swearing and much good-natured banter. Anna suspected it was a fair indication of how they got through life generally.

  As the Great House came into sight, Ed let out a low whistle. ‘Can’t believe we’re here already – Sophie, you’re a genius. Now, Anna, where shall we drop you – Great House or Cottage?’

  ‘Unless you fancy a cup of tea at our place first? Or gin, as Rick suggested?’ Sophie added, eyes crinkling at the corners. So like her brother’s, Anna thought; huh, as if she needed any more reminders of him today.

  Aloud she said, ‘Sounds wonderful, but I’d better go straight to the Cottage and get my stuff together. I need to be back in Bath tonight.’

  ‘Lucky you.’ Sophie gave an envious sigh. ‘I’d love to live in Bath.’

  Ed grinned, and the Land Rover swerved slightly. ‘No way, you’re moving into Kellynch Lodge, remember?’

  ‘Of course I do. That reminds me, Anna, we’re very grateful to your father for all the improvements he’s making.’

  ‘Don’t mention it.’ She went on, with a smile, ‘At least, not to me. Feel free to tell him, though – I know exactly what he’ll say.’

  Sophie groaned loudly. ‘Noblesse oblige. We’ve heard that quite a few times already.’

  The main guest room was at the far end of the Great House; here, the blare of the TV was reduced to a soothing drone and the only other sounds were the hoot of an owl or the bark of a fox. Rick stripped down to h
is boxers and got into bed. After such a stressful day and a huge supper, he was ready for sleep.

  He was just dozing off when his mobile rang; it was Sophie’s number.

  ‘What is it? I’m in bed.’

  ‘On your own?’ Her voice was edgy.

  ‘I believe so.’ He flapped the duvet against the phone, as if he was checking. ‘Yep, there’s only me, the giant knotweed, alone and unloved.’

  She didn’t laugh, but said sternly, ‘I left a message for you a couple of hours ago, on your mobile. The press went earlier this afternoon, and they don’t seem to have returned. So I thought you should move back here.’

  He frowned. ‘It’s too late to move back tonight. And if I’m staying tonight I might as well stay tomorrow night, as planned.’

  ‘Suit yourself. I’m sure you’ll be in touch if you want us to rescue any more damsels in distress.’

  ‘Oh yes, thanks again for helping out with Anna.’ A pause. ‘She doesn’t know, does she, that I asked you to come and get her?’

  ‘Why should that bother you? Haven’t you got other fish to fry?’ And Sophie hung up.

  He slammed the phone down on the bedside table and stretched out under the duvet, burying his face in the cool, fragrant pillow. What was Sophie’s problem? Did she honestly think he was gagging for a cramped night’s sleep at her place and a big-sister-knows-best chat over breakfast? Whereas here … here the bed was large and comfortable, and the company more … appreciative.

  Except that he’d had to tell Lou to slow down. Out in the open air, kissing her had seemed like a good idea; whereas back at the house, in a confined space, he’d felt cornered. He hadn’t said that, of course. Instead, he’d apologised for getting carried away, asked for a bit of space to adjust to the Shelley situation and suggested they spent some time getting to know each other.

  Lou had nodded understandingly, then pinned him to the sofa and–

  He’d been saved by a call on his mobile: Guy, confirming the next week’s events. Three days of talks in North Wales, followed by book signings in Dorset. As requested, Guy had booked him into a hotel in Lyme Regis for the weekend.

  ‘I love Lyme Regis!’ Lou said, when the call was over. ‘I’ll come down and we can spend some time getting to know each other.’ She giggled and rubbed her foot up and down his leg.

  He stood up and moved out of range. ‘Difficult. One of my best mates lives there, so I’ll be spending any spare time with him.’

  ‘Not all your spare time, though? Not every single minute?’ Her dark eyes fixed on his, bright with expectation.

  He hesitated. What did he have to lose? She was a very attractive girl, and he was single again. So he said slowly, ‘OK, I’ll book you a room in the same hotel.’

  From the look on her face, that wasn’t quite what she’d had in mind; but he was determined to pace things. Especially as he was only around for another few weeks.

  What had Sophie said earlier? ‘Analyse what went wrong with your last relationship before you rush into the next one.’ Well, here he was following her advice, although he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing it.

  That night, it took him ages to get to sleep; and even then he had the most disturbing dreams – about a dark-haired girl, looking deep into his eyes as he lifted her down from a stile.

  Not a future lover, but one from his past.

  Chapter Twenty

  The following week, despite the usual sense of relief that the new academic year had finally started, Anna found it impossible to settle into her term-time routine. Lectures went well, especially the one on Anna Karenina, but there were too few of them to provide the focus she needed. And, even though the many attractions of Bath were now enhanced by the presence of Sir Walter Elliot, 8th Baronet, she couldn’t blame the disruption on her father.

  It was the fallout from seeing Rick again.

  She read Monday’s Times with some trepidation, expecting to find him still in the news; but there was nothing. In her lunch hour she went out to buy The Sun, and found only a short article about the break-up: according to Rick, speaking from his ‘secret’ Somerset hideout, it was amicable and he wished Shelley well. A quick glance at the front pages suggested that the tabloids had moved on; several new stories had broken, including a far more salacious one involving Premier League footballers.

  So, reading the papers wouldn’t add to the fallout; she wished she could say the same for sisterly telepathy. Because, on the few occasions she succeeded in switching her thoughts away from Rick, Mona sent her thoughtful little text messages. Such as ‘Lou + Rick went on v early run – sharing same alarm already? :)’ and ‘OMG! Lou planning dirty weekend!’ She seemed to have completely forgotten her little campaign to get him off with Henrietta.

  And then Anna had the phone call. It came on Tuesday night, when she and Jenny were going to their yoga class at the local school. She debated whether to answer; she didn’t recognise the number and Jenny had just found a parking space with only two minutes to spare.

  In the end, however, curiosity got the better of her. ‘Hi – who is this?’

  ‘Rick Wentworth.’

  She nearly dropped her mobile. ‘Wh-what do you want?’ Her heart was pounding and, in spite of the chilly evening air, she felt herself breaking into a sweat.

  ‘I’ll make it quick.’ His tone was cold and clipped. ‘If you’re wondering how I got your number, I asked Lou for it, said I wanted to check something about Bath. But I really wanted to check something else.’ A pause. ‘Did you get pregnant when we – after that weekend on the boat?’

  ‘What?’

  Jenny gave her a swift, searching look as she turned off the engine, but said nothing.

  ‘Just tell me,’ he said, impatiently. ‘Please.’

  Anna got out of the car, slammed the door and hissed into the phone, ‘How dare you ask me that, after–’

  He cut in with, ‘Look, I know we took the necessary precautions, but it’s not an impossibility.’

  ‘You’re a biologist – and it’s taken you ten years to work that out?’ She let out a long steadying breath. ‘Why do you want to know all of a sudden?’

  Silence, as if she’d wrong-footed him with the vehemence of her response; then, ‘Just something I heard – not about you, about someone else – and it made me wonder … I should have been in touch again when I got to Australia.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a good one. Because I emailed you in the October and you never bothered to reply.’ In the stark lighting of the car park, she saw Jenny gesturing to her that she was going into the school hall. Anna gave her a relieved thumbs-up; she didn’t want anyone – even Jenny – overhearing this conversation. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear it herself.

  ‘You emailed me? … I don’t remember anything. Which address did you use – Uni or Hotmail?’

  ‘The one on the University of Melbourne website. You never gave me your Hotmail one.’

  ‘No need, was there? We were with each other every day, and I was expecting that to continue.’ He sounded defensive, even though she’d tried not to turn it into an accusation. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, wherever you sent it, I never saw it.’

  ‘You didn’t?’ Something – disbelief? hope? – fluttered in her chest. ‘When I heard nothing back, I thought you mustn’t want any more contact.’ She added quietly, ‘I wasn’t that surprised after – well, you know, the way it all ended.’

  Another silence. When at last he spoke, his voice was gentler, more hesitant. ‘I had a lot of diving trips that first semester. Had to be doing something, you know? Physical stuff helped, tired me out. And I was pretty ruthless with my emails to keep on top of it. If yours was buried in my spam folder, I’d have deleted it without even noticing.’ A pause. ‘Were you replying to my letter?’

  ‘Your letter?’

  He went on, ‘I knew I was taking a risk sending it to Kellynch, but it was the only way to reach you after you changed your mobile number.’


  Her stomach felt as if it had been kicked, and then some. Her mind seemed to empty of all coherent thought – before the familiar ache of self-recrimination seeped back, altered and sharpened by this new information.

  She forced herself to confront that part of the past and remember … Minty taking away her mobile and laptop ‘for repair’, presumably enlisting Natasha’s help with the technicalities of new contracts and contact details – ‘a fresh start for Oxford,’ Minty called it … The journey home, with Minty or Walter always by her side, as if she might make a bid for freedom and stow away on a plane bound for Australia … Lisa taking an unnatural interest, arranging cosy little expeditions to Harrods for ‘student basics’ … And she’d let it all happen, convinced that it was for the best – that Minty had saved her from making a mess of her life, as her mother had.

  But she’d never seen a letter.

  Rick said, his tone distant again, ‘So, you emailed me … Were you replying to my letter – or getting in touch because you were pregnant?’

  ‘Neither.’ She’d actually been going to tell him that she’d made a mistake, the biggest mistake of her life.

  A sort of sigh, barely audible. ‘Thanks, that’s all I wanted to know. And don’t worry, I won’t bother you again.’ With that, he hung up.

  Anna almost rang him straight back, but stopped herself. What was the point? He hadn’t even pressed her to explain why she’d emailed him; he’d been focused on one thing: finding out if he’d got her pregnant. And she knew what had triggered it – when Lou had told him about Charles and Mona, he’d started examining his own conscience.

  But, just as he was putting the record straight with her, she had a score to settle with someone else.

  Minty answered the phone with her usual brisk cheerfulness. ‘Anna, darling! I was just going to ring you – they’re doing Chekhov at the Theatre Royal later this month. Shall I get us tickets?’