Persuade Me Read online

  Sophie beamed at him. ‘More than OK, as you know very well.’

  ‘Or as you would know, if you’d managed to get a room there yourself,’ Ed put in with a sly wink.

  Rick laughed. ‘Don’t rub it in any more, thank you – although the place I’ve got is pretty good.’

  ‘How did your talk go last night?’ Sophie said, as she scanned the menu.

  He decided to be truthful. ‘Mixed. Some things went to plan, other things didn’t.’

  She looked up. ‘Maybe you should – ah, here’s Anna.’

  He wondered if he’d heard her correctly. The next moment, however, a pink-cheeked Anna was pulling out the chair opposite his, and smiling at everyone, even him … especially him.

  It was a second chance. Wasn’t it?

  Sophie picked up the signs immediately.

  Rick wasn’t supposed to be getting involved with anyone, until he’d worked out what had gone wrong with Shelley. Yet here he was, asking Anna if she recommended anything on the menu, using his seductive smile and what she called his chocolate-fudge-cake eyes – dark, delicious and deadly – to their fullest effect.

  What was that famous Robin Williams quote? Something like ‘God gave man a brain and a penis, and only enough blood to run one at a time.’

  When they’d ordered coffee and – surprise, surprise – chocolate fudge cake for Rick and Anna, Sophie returned to their earlier conversation. ‘So was it your usual talk, Rick, or something different?’

  ‘Both.’ Another smouldering look at Anna. ‘The usual stuff at first – a talking trailer for the book – but, for that particular audience, I added something new. You see, all the creatures I mentioned last night have one thing in common – monogamy, a mate for the rest of their lives.’

  Ed gave a loud guffaw. ‘I’d have paid good money to hear about that – from you!’

  ‘So would I,’ Sophie said dryly, glancing sideways at Anna. The poor girl had a dreamy expression on her face, no doubt deluding herself that his talk had been aimed at her. ‘Not much monogamy around these days, is there? With or without marriage.’

  Anna seemed to rouse herself from her trance. ‘I think you two are great adverts for monogamy. And Rick obviously thought your wedding anniversary was worth celebrating, otherwise he wouldn’t have arranged this weekend.’

  Another guffaw from Ed. ‘Good one, Anna. And another thing – I’m always suggesting weekends away to Sophie, and she’s always got a reason to stay at home. But as soon as Rick arranges something, she’s packed and in the car, nagging me to hurry up!’

  ‘Complete rubbish,’ Sophie retorted, then paused as the waitress brought four coffees and two huge slabs of death by chocolate. She went on, ‘I don’t always do whatever Rick wants. Some of his ideas are ridiculous, like wanting me to emigrate to Melbourne almost as soon as he arrived. As if I’d have given up my life here, when he might only have stayed out there three years! And I also had Mother to think about.’

  Anna started, and her gaze flicked across to Rick. ‘Your mother? In what way?’

  Rick didn’t answer, so Sophie explained. ‘She’d just moved to Spain, mainly for health reasons. I was responsible for her legal and financial affairs – Rick was still a student, a post-grad by then, and out of the country a lot. There was always a chance that Mother wouldn’t settle and she’d come back to England.’

  ‘And did she?’

  Rick cleared his throat. ‘No. She loved Spain – which probably meant she put the fear of God into the community of Ancient Brits out there – but she died after a few months.’

  Anna’s big grey eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry … What happened to your father?’

  Sophie grimaced. ‘The less said about him the better. He hasn’t been part of our lives for years, and we’ve lost touch.’ Then, in a brighter tone, ‘But, you know, I’m really glad I didn’t let my brother persuade me to emigrate, because otherwise I wouldn’t have met Ed.’

  Ed stirred what Sophie considered far too much sugar into his cappuccino, and gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Whereas I keep hoping Rick still wants Sophie to go and live in Australia. Without me!’

  ‘Well, I’m always open to persuasion,’ Rick put in.

  And there was a sudden intensity in his voice that made Sophie think he wasn’t talking to Ed at all.

  Anna had thought it impossible, and now it was actually happening: she and Rick were relaxing with Sophie and Ed over a coffee.

  Except that it wasn’t very relaxing – because, every time she met Rick’s gaze, she wanted to lean across the table and kiss him. Good job Sophie and Ed hadn’t noticed.

  Piecing together the precious personal fragments of the conversation, she realised that life must have been hard for him when he first went to Australia. Not only did he have the aftermath of their break-up to cope with; Sophie had refused to leave England, and then his mother had died – and his father had obviously been out of the picture.

  And just how was she meant to interpret that last remark: ‘I’m always open to persuasion’? Was he suggesting they might have a future together? Things were different now – they were older and wiser, they’d completed their education, built their careers – but not necessarily easier. They would still have to make sacrifices, and really want to take the risk – so where did persuasion come into it?

  Unless it was all about persuading yourself to decide what mattered most …

  But she was moving too fast, ready to make life-changing decisions based on a few enigmatic looks and ambiguous words. She made a determined effort to tune in to what the others were discussing; it turned out to be Rick’s last-minute invitation to the theatre that night.

  ‘If it’s the Chekhov play, I’ll probably see you there,’ she said recklessly.

  His face lit up. ‘Great, I’ll look out for you.’ A pause, then he continued with a wicked grin, ‘Any of your favourite heroes in it?’

  Her eyes danced. ‘How can you even ask that? When I told you who they were, I never even mentioned Chekhov.’ She turned to Sophie and Ed. ‘We were having a few drinks at the time, so no wonder he can’t remember.’

  ‘I remember it perfectly,’ Rick said, in mock indignation. ‘One of your heroes was … James Benwick?’

  She pretended to give this nonsense serious consideration. ‘James meets the main criteria, I suppose. He’s an Action Man – when he needs to be … And he’s thoughtful and kind – at least, to a certain person recovering in hospital … A man of honour? Probably … But there’s nothing heroic about his writing.’

  Another grin from Rick. ‘You’ve seen his website, then?’

  ‘Yes, I looked at it yesterday.’

  She was about to contrast it with Sex in the Sea’s narrative style – spare, yet vivid, and at times incredibly moving – when Sophie chipped in. ‘Rick, it’s quarter to. Aren’t you meant to be leaving for Bristol?’

  He stood up. ‘See what she’s like, Anna? Always on my case, has been for the past thirty-two years.’ With a mischievous glint in his eye, he shook Ed’s hand, bent to give Sophie a brotherly kiss and received a playful slap in return.

  Then he came round to Anna’s side of the table. ‘Until tonight,’ he murmured; and his lips brushed the curve of her cheek. Instantly, she felt the blood rush to her face. It might have looked as casual as the kiss he’d just given Sophie, but it certainly didn’t get the same flippant response.

  She watched him walk away, and wished she could go with him; but Sophie was talking to her, something about lunch the next day. ‘That sounds great,’ she said, vaguely.

  ‘The Royal Crescent it is, then. The restaurant’s first class, apparently.’

  Anna’s eyes widened in dismay. ‘Actually, can we meet somewhere else? My father and older sister are staying there too, and I’d rather not–’

  A peal of laughter from Sophie. ‘Neither would I! Right, how about the Pump Room Restaurant, at twelve-thirty?’

  ‘That would be wonderful,
it’s one of my favourite places in Bath.’ Anna turned her attention to finishing her cake although, without Rick there to share the experience, it had lost most of its appeal. She could almost feel her waistline expanding; at this rate, she’d never get into her coral dress tonight. Except … why not splash out on something new?

  Minutes later, she said goodbye to Sophie and Ed and headed for Jolly’s. Shopping for clothes with a man in mind was an unfamiliar sensation, but she found something that looked good enough to justify the price.

  Back home, instead of going straight upstairs, she decided to knock on Jenny and Tom’s door. After a little while, an ashen-faced Jenny answered, shuffled Anna through to the kitchen and switched on the kettle.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ she said. ‘I’ve just been all the way up to your flat to see if you’re feeling as bad as me.’ She raised one eyebrow, very gingerly. ‘If you are, you don’t look it.’

  ‘That’s because I stuck to champagne, whereas you had red wine with your main course, didn’t you? And it was very good champagne, so no after-effects.’

  ‘You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.’

  ‘I suppose I felt safe with you and Tom there.’

  Jenny frowned. ‘Don’t you feel safe on your own with William?’

  A pause. ‘I find him disturbing.’

  ‘And is that good, or bad?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  Silence, while Jenny made them both a coffee; then she said, ‘I found Rick Wentworth’s talk disturbing.’

  Anna glanced sharply at her. ‘Why was that?’

  ‘Oh, it made me think about Tom and whether we should be trying some of the new treatments we’ve read about. Of course we’d never get them on the National Health, but we can’t afford to go privately unless we sell the house.’ She sighed. ‘And, at the end of the day, life’s not too bad as it is.’

  ‘But that’s just what he was getting at,’ Anna said eagerly. ‘We can all go on as we are, doing nothing different. Whereas “hope” is an action word – or should be. Something aspirational, like – how did he put it? – living our dream. But, to achieve it, we usually have to come out of our comfort zone and change in some way.’

  And she’d made up her mind. Tonight she would change – be proactive, ask Rick if they could go somewhere and talk. She’d tidy the flat, too, in the unlikely event that they’d come back here …

  Jenny was saying, ‘… very convincing, ever thought of becoming an after-dinner speaker? Maybe you and Rick could join forces and combine Sex in the Sea with nineteenth-century Russian literature.’ She put on a hushed David Attenborough tone. ‘Meet Anna Karenina, a typical female sea dragon, leaving her child for hubby to bring up.’

  Anna giggled. ‘You’re ridiculous! Although it would be a way of freshening up my lectures, which I’ve been meaning to do this term. What could Prince Myshkin be – the deep sea angler fish, making the ultimate self-sacrifice and fusing himself to the female?’

  But by now Jenny had spotted Anna’s carrier bag. ‘You’ve been shopping – is it something to wear at the theatre? You are a dark horse, telling me you’re not in a hurry to encourage William.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘Come on, let’s see what you’ve bought.’

  Anna opened her mouth to tell Jenny that it wasn’t William she wanted to impress – then quickly shut it again. No point in making things more complicated than they already were.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Taking afternoon tea in the conservatory of Dottie Dalrymple’s Garden Villa suite … nodding wisely at her complaints about the scandalous price of practically everything … adorned – and adored – by Lisa on his right and Cleo on his left … Walter felt that life could not get much better. Once William arrived and he could gaze at himself reincarnated, he would be truly content.

  At last there was a knock at the door – and in came William, profusely apologetic, with Anna. The dear boy had insisted on fetching her in case she forgot about having tea with Lady Dalrymple. Unfortunately, there’d been quite a delay between him finishing lunch with them and setting off for Bennett Street. Something to do with helping Cleo find the remote control for her TV – Lisa had been obliged to remind him that that’s what the hotel staff were paid for.

  Walter noted that, once again, William was wearing an almost identical outfit to his own. Although this was extremely flattering, how he knew what Walter would choose was a mystery. Unless Lisa was behind it? He could quite understand her wanting the two men in her life dressed to the same high sartorial standard.

  Dottie offered Anna the seat next to hers; but when William sat down beside Lisa, she edged her chair away from him. Walter sighed to himself. It was only a matter of time, he was sure, before these two carried on from where they’d left off. For the moment, Lisa was blowing hot and cold.

  And now Cleo was asking what had taken them so long, and William was explaining that they’d bumped into someone Anna knew in the hotel grounds. ‘Someone Walter knows, too, apparently,’ he added. ‘Ed Croft?’

  Walter smiled benignly. ‘A tenant of mine – or very soon will be. No doubt hired to do some gardening – the name of Sir Walter Elliot throws open a multitude of doors.’

  ‘Actually, Ed and Sophie are staying here,’ Anna put in – rather spitefully, he thought. ‘They’ve got the Sir Percy Blakeney suite over in the main house.’

  Walter almost choked on his lapsang souchong. For God’s sake, didn’t people like the Crofts know their place? The Sir Percy Blakeney was one of the most prestigious suites in the hotel! But when Dottie – sounding genuinely impressed – said, ‘Dear me, Walter, you must be a very astute businessman to find tenants who can afford The Royal Crescent,’ he recovered instantly.

  ‘Oh, Croft’s quite the entrepreneur in his own little way,’ he told her. ‘He and his wife are opening a garden centre in a couple of weeks’ time, just down the road from Kellynch. They haven’t actually asked me yet, but they’ll be expecting me to do the honours. Cut the ribbon, make a speech, and so on – noblesse oblige, you know.’ A long-suffering sigh. ‘And I’ve spent a small fortune getting The Lodge refurbished for them, let’s hope they’re suitably grateful.’

  Lisa patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry, they won’t be, tenants never are. Actually, I’m more worried about them using the relaxation pool in The Bath House while they’re here.’ She shuddered. ‘The husband’s fingernails are enough to give you nightmares, let alone the rest of him.’

  Walter nodded. ‘Quite right, darling, I’ll have a little word with them.’

  ‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ Anna said, with one of her deceptively sweet smiles. ‘The Crofts are here as guests of Rick Wentworth. I’m sure he’d be very annoyed if he knew you’d had one of your little words. And, by the way, they’ve asked him to open their garden centre.’

  He felt his jaw sag in astonishment – and hastily lifted it. How dare she suggest that he, Sir Walter Elliot, could possibly be upstaged by a man whose only claim to fame was a book that no respectable person would be seen dead with?

  He was about to say as much, when Dottie gave a little crow of delight and reached behind her chair. ‘Look what I’m reading at the moment!’ To Walter’s horror, she held up a book with ‘Sex in the Sea by Dr Rick Wentworth’ brazenly splashed across it. And no doubt the photograph on the cover was the upstart himself, flaunting his tan and his muscles for all he was worth.

  ‘It’s absolutely fascinating, I’ll never think of a barnacle in quite the same way again,’ Dottie went on, panting with incomprehensible excitement. ‘Is Rick Wentworth staying at The Royal Crescent too?’

  While Anna shook her head, Cleo purred, ‘We ’ave met ’eem, Lisa and me. ’E eez a vairee sexy man.’

  This was adding insult to injury. ‘Where on earth did you meet him?’ Walter spluttered.

  ‘At Kelleench.’

  ‘Kellynch?’ Good God, had the enemy breached his ramparts without him even noticing?

  As always, Lisa read
his mind. ‘I didn’t let him in the house,’ she said soothingly. ‘He just came to see how The Lodge was progressing.’ She gave him a meaningful look. ‘If Lady Dalrymple wants to meet him, I’m sure you could arrange something with the Crofts.’

  Once again he silently thanked the heavens above for this blessing of a daughter, while Dottie gushed, ‘That would be wonderful, Walter. Let me know when he can call and I’ll make sure I’m here, with my book ready for him to sign.’

  Walter squeezed some enthusiasm into his voice. ‘Delighted, just leave it to me.’

  Luckily, William changed the subject. ‘Didn’t you want to hear about tonight’s play, Dorothea? Anna says it’s classic Chekhov, very subtle, all about the decay of the privileged class.’

  ‘Decay?’ Dottie said, in a puzzled tone. ‘Good gracious, is it a comedy?’

  Anna gave her an appraising look. ‘More a tragic reality – and not just in pre-revolutionary Russia.’

  Walter didn’t quite understand her meaning, but he sensed it wasn’t intended to be complimentary. Time for a distraction; he certainly didn’t want to risk falling out with Dottie all over again.

  He fixed an indulgent smile on his face, peered across at Anna and said, ‘Well, my dear, aren’t you going to let us into your little secret?’

  She started, blushed and looked round to see who he was talking to. An awkward pause, then – ‘Wh-what do you mean?’

  ‘Your skin, it’s almost radiant! What have you been using on it – Crème de la Mer?’

  Next to him, Lisa said under her breath, ‘Fat chance, on a university lecturer’s salary.’

  ‘I haven’t used anything,’ Anna said flatly.

  Walter wagged a playful finger at her. ‘Come along, there’s definitely something different about you. It must be Crème de la Mer, I bought some for Cleo the other day and she’s seen an improvement already.’

  Cleo seized his hand and laid it against her face. ‘Sir Voltaire eez always so generous.’

  ‘Not at all, I’m simply a man who invests in beauty,’ he said, with a modest little laugh. He peered again at Anna, stroking his own silk-smooth cheek thoughtfully. ‘Or have you had a course of treatments somewhere? Not at the hotel spa, of course, that’s for residents only, but perhaps the Thermae Bath Spa? I was quite tempted by their Luxury Caviar Facial myself.’