Persuade Me Page 19

  Rick let out a heavy sigh. ‘I can’t be bothered.’

  ‘It would help if you didn’t drink so much. How many’s that you’ve had?’

  A shrug. ‘Not enough.’

  Guy narrowed his eyes. ‘Something happen at the hospital this evening?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  Silence; then Guy prompted, ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

  Rick hesitated; he wasn’t sure he wanted to put his misgivings into words … Oh, what the hell! ‘Look, Lou’s doing really well – today she even walked along the corridor with me – and they’re talking about transferring her to Frenchay Hospital at Bristol, nearer her home. It’s all good news.’ He gave Guy a despairing look. ‘So why don’t I feel happy?’

  Now it was Guy’s turn to shrug. ‘Sorry, only you can answer that. Do you want me to fix you up with someone to talk to?’

  ‘No thanks.’ The last thing he needed was a psychotherapist; it would be like opening Pandora’s bloody box.

  ‘At least she’s on the road to recovery.’ Guy paused. ‘I can’t understand why you’ve let yourself get so involved. You hardly know the girl, you don’t seem to be in love with her and it sounds as though the accident was her own fault – why beat yourself up like this?’

  Rick bowed his head. ‘Things aren’t that simple. I promised her family that I’d be there for her–’

  ‘Why the hell did you do that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Guilt, I suppose. You see, when Shelley dumped me, Lou was great for my ego. Trouble is, I didn’t handle it very well – I’d bumped into this woman, and I thought I had something to prove … So I told Lou we had to slow down, get to know each other, like I did with this woman. But Lou isn’t a very good listener. Unlike this woman I know, or used to know …’

  ‘Stop rambling on about “this woman”.’ Guy sounded impatient. ‘Is it the same one, or are there three of them? No – don’t tell me,’ he added hurriedly. ‘Just remember, guilt is never a good reason for doing something.’

  ‘What about honour?’

  ‘Honour?’

  ‘Knowing and doing what’s morally right–’

  ‘I know what it means,’ Guy put in, ‘but surely you’ve got no moral obligation towards Lou?’

  ‘It’s … complicated. I want to do the right thing, because … there’s this woman, and her ideal hero is–’

  ‘Not “this woman” again! For God’s sake, Rick, go to bed. You’re not making any sense.’

  Rick studied his glass; hadn’t there been some whisky in it, a minute ago? And now he’d lost his train of thought … ‘Anyway, as I was saying, I’m not sure if I’m doing Lou any good by visiting, she doesn’t seem to mind if I’m there or not.’

  ‘You weren’t saying anything of the sort,’ Guy said briskly, ‘but it’s just as well Lou isn’t desperate to see you. Your next events are in South Wales, you can’t keep travelling back to Southampton. It’s Bristol and Bath towards the end of the week, handy if she’s moved to Frenchay, but still … Did I tell you I was coming to Bath next Saturday, with Marie-Claude? There’s a play on at the Theatre Royal that she wants to see, and by sheer coincidence I can impress her with my knowledge, because I studied it for Russian A level–’

  Something clicked in Rick’s befuddled brain. ‘You did Russian? Here, tell me what this says.’ He fumbled along the bar for a coaster, dug a pen out of his pocket and scrawled what he could remember of the book title in Anna’s bedroom. ‘Look, the first and third letters are like ‘N’ backwards, and the last two are ‘OT’, but the second letter’s weird – a sort of rectangle with little legs.’

  Guy glanced at the scrawl and laughed. ‘Idiot.’

  Rick scowled. ‘Yeah, maybe I am, but there wasn’t much opportunity to learn the Cyrillic alphabet at my failing secondary school in north-east England.’

  Guy laughed even louder. ‘That’s what the word means – “idiot”!’

  ‘Oh, I see … Isn’t it the name of a novel?’

  ‘By Dostoevsky.’

  ‘About …?’

  ‘The hero’s this well-meaning idealist – think Forrest Gump with brains. He has an overdeveloped sense of duty and tries to help people, in particular a woman who’s in a mess.’ A pause. ‘Eventually he realises that everyone thinks he’s an idiot.’

  Rick was silent for a few moments; then, ignoring Guy’s protests, he ordered another whisky. For consolation, he told himself; because, rather than the expected insight into Anna’s life, this was an uncomfortably accurate picture of his own.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  After a dream of a dessert – mango and jasmine mousse – Anna refused anything else; the coffee would be worth staying for, but not the conversation that went with it. Two hours of her father’s Dorian Gray syndrome and her sister’s vacuousness were more than enough.

  To her surprise, and the others’ displeasure, William insisted on walking her home.

  ‘But I’m about to order our taxi,’ Lisa said, with a baleful look at Anna.

  William flashed her a grin that would have melted half of Greenland. ‘No probs, darling, order it to come in half-an-hour. By the time you’ve all had coffee, I’ll be back.’

  And, before she knew it, Anna was in her coat – with William’s scarf wrapped snugly round her neck – and leaving the restaurant by its other door on Crescent Lane. She told him she lived in Bennett Street; but it turned out that he already knew her address, had got it from Minty – or Araminta, as he called her. He’d wanted to look her up as soon as he arrived in Bath; once he went to build some bridges at The Royal Crescent Hotel, however – another tip-off from Araminta – he found himself without a moment to spare.

  He held her arm as they walked along, steered her smoothly across the road and steered the conversation just as smoothly to their breakfast together in Lyme Regis. ‘There was so much I wanted to know about you, but I thought I’d see you again that night.’ His grip on her arm tightened. ‘I was devastated when I heard you’d checked out. That moron Pargeter wouldn’t give me your address – went all officious on me and quoted the Data Protection Act. So I decided to head for Kellynch and get the information I wanted there. Another setback when I found Walter and Lisa had decamped to Bath, then – luckily – I remembered where Araminta lived.’ He gave a deep chuckle. ‘She was a bit frosty to begin with, but she soon thawed.’

  They reached the corner of Bennett Street and instantly, even in the dark, he decided he loved everything about it. So central, he told her, yet quiet, and not as intimidating as The Circus. As they neared her front door, he noticed Tom’s car with its disabled sticker and started discussing the Smiths’ situation. Araminta thought they managed their finances amazingly well, considering Tom was on a pittance of a disability allowance and Jenny didn’t earn much more. But then, renting out one’s property could be quite a little gold mine, as he and Araminta hoped Walter would come to realise. And although they both admired Anna tremendously for making her own way in life, they felt that she deserved far more than a one-bedroomed rented flat. In fact, they agreed about most things where Anna was concerned …

  Anna let it all wash over her. She wasn’t sure if she felt treasured – or trapped. In fact, she wasn’t sure about William, full stop.

  At the door, she fished the key out of her bag and smiled up at him. ‘Thank you for seeing me home, there was really no need. How long are you staying in Bath?’

  ‘My plans are fairly flexible at the moment. One of the advantages of being an investment trader nowadays is that I carry my office with me. Bath has some wonderful little corners where I can hide myself away and still be on the job.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Actually, Anna, it all depends on what happens in the next week or so.’ His face was in shadow, so she couldn’t make out his expression; but something in his voice – a suggestion that he was thinking of her – rang warning bells.

  She said, keeping her tone light and casual, ‘Well, if you’re still around, m
aybe we could have a coffee together next weekend?’ That sounded perfect – friendly, for old times’ sake, without being encouraging.

  ‘I’d love that, although I’m sure we’ll see each other before then.’

  Not if she could help it. ‘Goodnight, William.’

  ‘Goodnight, Anna.’ He pulled her close – too close – and murmured, ‘I’m so happy I found you again.’

  She broke away, stabbed her key into the lock and opened the door wide enough to let herself in but keep him out. Then she shut it firmly behind her, slumped against it and closed her eyes.

  The ordeal was over. Except – was she thinking of dinner with her family, or her strange vulnerability to this man?

  I’m so happy I found you again.

  How she’d longed to hear those words; but from someone else.

  Chapter Forty

  Anna rang Minty early the next morning. She was determined to catch her before she went off to All Saints – where, needless to say, she was churchwarden, offertory steward and choir stalwart all rolled into one.

  It turned out that someone had beaten Anna to it. The first thing Minty said was, ‘Anna, darling! Have your ears been burning? William’s just been on the phone telling me what happened last night.’

  Anna was puzzled. ‘You mean when he went clubbing with Lisa and Cleo? Why should my ears be burning? I wasn’t even there.’

  ‘Silly girl, he hardly mentioned that part of the evening.’ A knowing laugh. ‘It was all about meeting you again and walking you home.’

  ‘As I told him at the time, there was really no need.’

  ‘But he’s that sort of man, isn’t he? Considerate … protective … and such good company. Last Sunday we had the most wonderful evening together–’

  ‘That reminds me,’ Anna put in, ‘why didn’t you let me know you’d seen him, or that he was in Bath? I got quite a shock when he turned up at dinner.’

  ‘Don’t tease – you mean a lovely surprise, I’m sure. Come to that, why didn’t you let me know you’d met him in Lyme Regis? When you rang me last weekend – Sunday afternoon, wasn’t it? – you never even mentioned him.’

  ‘I forgot, what with everything else that was going on.’

  Minty gave a little sigh. ‘Ah yes, poor Louisa Musgrove. Have you been to see her yet?’

  ‘No, I decided to wait until she’s been moved to Bristol.’

  ‘Very sensible, it’s much nearer.’

  That wasn’t the only reason, but Anna let it pass; she was in no hurry to bring Rick’s name into the conversation.

  ‘And how is she?’ Minty went on.

  ‘Quieter than she’s ever been in her life, but making a good recovery by the sound of it.’ Then she frowned. ‘Although Barbara was a bit worried the other day – one of the visitors read some poetry to Lou and afterwards she was even more subdued than usual.’

  ‘How odd, I can imagine a little Keats or Tennyson being quite therapeutic–’

  ‘This guy writes his own stuff – not that I’ve read any yet, I haven’t got round to looking at his website. And he’s just split from his long-term girlfriend, so he’s not exactly the life and soul of the party.’

  Anna recalled how surprised she’d been to hear about James; not so much the depressing effect of his poems – more the fact that he’d turned up at the hospital midweek and visited every day since. Barbara had reminded her that it was his half-term holiday – but that explained only the circumstances, not the motivation. Except that Lou was a captive audience for his poetry; and maybe he mistook her silences for appreciation.

  Apparently James kept away from the hospital whenever Rick was around, so Rick knew nothing about these visits. Anna was half-relieved that James seemed to have forgotten she existed – and half-worried that the two men would meet accidentally. She still wasn’t sure how Rick felt about Lou …

  Minty was saying, ‘… it wouldn’t have happened, would it, my dear?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘If it had been William with Louisa on the Cobb, he would never have let her fall like that. As I said, he’s a very considerate and protective man.’

  ‘Rick didn’t let her fall, he–’ Anna broke off, struggling to bring herself under control. No point even trying to convince Minty that William Elliot-Dunne wasn’t the only man who could be considerate and protective and good company. Rick had once been all of those and much, much more …

  She took a deep breath and changed the subject. ‘When are you next coming to Bath?’

  ‘In a couple of weeks or so, although William wants me to come earlier. Says he’s missing me already!’

  So the phone call ended as it had begun, with Minty singing William’s praises and implying that William was singing Anna’s. All rather disturbing – like William himself, Anna thought. On the one hand, he was undeniably attractive; and he seemed sincere enough, particularly when he talked about that holiday they’d had in Lyme. On the other hand, he looked too much like Walter for comfort, and what she knew of his past history with Lisa and Brandi Berette suggested he was a rampant opportunist.

  Anna looked at the pile of essays that she’d brought home to mark. It would do her good to open that new pack of filter coffee, put on some music and settle down to work. No need for a man in her life at all.

  For once Rick didn’t give any advance warning of his visit to Lou. He had a Sunday afternoon signing in Exeter and coming back to Southampton afterwards didn’t make sense; not when he and Dave should be heading in the opposite direction, to South Wales.

  So he called at the hospital in the morning, well before normal visiting hours, on the off chance that they would let him see Lou for a few minutes. And he wanted to thank the nursing staff personally for their superb care; if everything went to plan, Lou would be transferred to Bristol in the next couple of days.

  But when he popped his head round the door of Lou’s room, he did a double take. There she was, sitting up in bed as he’d expected; but hunched in the chair next to her was none other than James Benwick. Hair flopping over his face, hands gripping hers, he was murmuring something in low urgent tones and, incredibly, she seemed to be hanging on his every word.

  Arms folded, Rick leaned against the door frame and said coolly, ‘So you’ve got special visiting rights this morning too, have you?’

  James started, glanced nervously across at him and went bright red. ‘Yes, well, just dropping by, you know. Been staying with Ben and Megan, going back to Sussex now, got things to do.’

  If he was ‘just dropping by’, Rick thought, why the guilty body language? But he uncrossed his arms, moved towards the bed and said in a gentler voice, ‘Hi Lou, how are you today?’

  She looked up at him as if she was trying to remember who he was. He frowned; in their different ways, they both made him feel like an intruder. So, after he’d explained why he wouldn’t see her until Thursday, he said goodbye and hurried off.

  During the two-hour car journey to Exeter, however, he had plenty of time to think. If James and Lou were becoming infatuated with each other, it would solve two problems.

  First, it would allow James, not Rick, to play the hero in Lou’s life; and second, it would mean that James was no longer infatuated with Anna Elliot.

  Anna stretched out on the rug, clasped her hands behind her head and collected her thoughts. She’d finished the marking – now it was time for lunch; she still had the remains of a cooked chicken in the fridge and she’d make some pasta. This afternoon she’d catch up on her reading and go over the notes for tomorrow’s lectures. After a bath, some TV and an early night, she’d feel better prepared for the week ahead and its biggest challenges – a visit to Lou, followed by Rick’s book signing at Molland’s. She knew she would go through with both, whatever the consequences for her peace of mind.

  So when the doorbell rang and threatened to put paid to her plans for the rest of the day, she wasn’t best pleased. She got reluctantly to her feet and switched on the intercom. ‘W
ho is it?’

  ‘The owner of a rather nice navy cashmere scarf. Or should that be “the rather nice owner of a navy cashmere scarf”?’ William’s voice, self-assured with a hint of amusement. She remembered how he’d insisted she wore his scarf last night; in her hurry to leave him on the doorstep, she’d forgotten to give it back.

  ‘May I come up and get it?’ he prompted.

  Flustered, she pressed the front door release – and immediately regretted it. She should have taken the scarf down to him, chatted for a minute or two, then excused herself with ‘too much work’.

  The rap at her door seemed to come only seconds later; she took a deep breath and opened it. But just when she expected William to waltz in, he hung back.

  ‘Am I interrupting anything?’ he said, with a contrite smile. ‘I never thought to ask.’

  Caught off guard, she heard herself murmur, ‘No, I’ve just finished my marking and I’m ready for a break. Come in.’

  And then she was hanging up his coat and offering him a coffee, and he was following her into the kitchen and marvelling at how neat and compact it was.

  Just how did that happen, when she didn’t really want him here?

  In the living room, over coffee, he seemed transfixed by the picture of Pornichet. So bold and fresh – who was the artist? She explained that it was her cousin’s daughter, Katya, who she saw most summers. Based on an old sketch, it had been done four years ago, when Katya was only sixteen and happy to paint whatever people asked for; now she was at the Pont-Aven School of Contemporary Art and far more choosy about her commissions. He wondered aloud why Anna had wanted this particular scene – special memories, perhaps? Anna sidestepped the question by inviting him to lunch.

  Which wasn’t what she’d meant to do at all.

  Back in the kitchen, they made a good team. He cooked the pasta to perfection and created a delicious-smelling sauce from whatever he found in her fridge. She chopped the chicken, mixed everything together, sprinkled cheese on top and put the dish under the grill to brown.