The time passed quickly as they chatted, and it was after eleven as they left the restaurant.
‘Just drop me to the bus,’ Luca said, as they walked back to the car. But Jonathan insisted on driving him home.
‘I need to go to a supermarket on the way,’ he said. ‘Jacqueline asked me to pick up a few things.’ He stopped outside a convenience store a little way from the restaurant. ‘Do you want to come in?’ he asked Luca.
‘No, I’ll wait here.’
‘Okay,’ he said, opening his door. ‘I won’t be long.’
Left alone in the car, Luca’s eye caught the photograph attached to the dashboard on the driver’s side with a magnet. He hadn’t seen it in a long time, and he was surprised his mother kept it there where she would see it every day, a constant reminder of her disappointment. He picked it up to examine it more closely. An old colour photograph, it was creased with age and curling up at the edges. He only vaguely remembered the day it had been taken. He wasn’t even sure if it was a true memory or if he had been told about it so often that he thought he remembered it. It had been taken outside the orphanage in Negru Voda. His mother had her arms around her new children, him on one side and Ali on the other, both squinting into the sun and looking suitably bewildered at the start of their newlife. Jacqueline beamed at the camera – a smile that said she couldn’t believe her luck. It was an establishing shot: the beginning of their family.
He smiled as he looked at Ali, so shy and cute, her eyes sliding to him for reassurance. He hardly recognised himself in the little boy who stood staring straight ahead, his expression fierce. She should have known, he thought. She should have taken one look at that face and thrown him back. Ali would have forgotten him soon enough and they could all have been happy. They would have been a perfect family without him.
He remembered the mixture of terror and excitement with which he had made the journey to Ireland, and wondered if it had been the same for Jacqueline, bringing two little strangers to live with her. It was his first time on a plane. There had been a lot of firsts – the taste of chocolate, the kindness of his new mother’s hands in his hair, the softness of the bed he had lain down in that night, the quiet of a night not filled with the nightmares of frightened children; hot water, clean clothes, plenty of food. It was a strange new world in which everything was warm and soft, and no one ever hit you.
Maybe Jacqueline kept it there as a reminder of happier times, he thought. Whatever else had happened since, they had been happy that day, full of hope. He had let her down, he knew that. She had only wanted to give him a life worth living. He had hurt her with his aloofness, and she took his self-reliance as a rebuke. But he didn’t know any other way to be – he had been fighting too long to stop.
As Jonathan emerged from the shop carrying two plastic bags, Luca replaced the photograph and fixed it with the magnet hastily, almost guiltily, as if he shouldn’thave been looking at it. He felt almost as if he had been prying into someone else’s life.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ he said, when Jonathan dropped him off outside his building.
‘I enjoyed it. We’ll do it again soon, yes?’
‘Yeah,’ Luca said, as he opened the car door.
‘And come out to the house,’ Jonathan called after him, as he got out. ‘Don’t be a stranger.’
Luca waved as Jonathan drove off.Don’t be a stranger. He wasn’t sure he knew how to be anything else.
10
‘Okay, you can do this,’ Claire told herself, taking a deep breath and pulling open the door of the restaurant. She tossed her head back and strode confidently up to the maître d’. Half of her had been hoping Mark would already be there waiting, so she wouldn’t have to sit at the table on her own, and the other half wanted to get there first so she would be seated when he arrived and wouldn’t have to walk towards him while he watched. But when she gave her name to the man and told him she was joining Mark Bell, he informed her that Mark had already arrived. When he had taken her coat, he led her to the table. Claire made a determined effort to keep her head up and appear confident as she followed him. The dress helped. She knew she looked good, and the sheer material swishing around her legs sensually as she walked boosted her confidence. Yvonne had worked her magic on her makeup and hair, and she felt sophisticated, glamorous… and, yes,sexy.
She saw Mark first, recognising him instantly. Just as they reached the table, he smiled at her and, to her surprise, her nerves melted away because he seemed sofriendly and familiar. It was like meeting an old friend. She knew this person and was happy to see him.
He stood as the maître d’ walked away. ‘NiceGirl, I presume?’ he said, holding out a hand to her.
She nodded as they shook hands. ‘Claire,’ she said. ‘Claire Kennedy.’ He was taller than she’d remembered, but just as handsome.
‘It’s very nice to meet you.’ He leaned in, kissing her cheek, and she felt a little shiver of excitement as his stubble brushed against her face and she breathed in the warm sandalwood tone of his aftershave. He waved her to the seat opposite him.
‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked. ‘I thought maybe we should start with some champagne. We have something to celebrate, after all – at least, I hope we do.’
‘Champagne would be lovely, thank you.’
She was aware of his eyes on her as the waiter fussed around with an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne, but she didn’t feel self-conscious or want to squirm. Far from making her uncomfortable, the frank appreciation in his eyes gave her a warm glow. Maybe this was a magic dress, she thought whimsically. It was certainly helping her to get into character, like an actor’s costume. She jumped when the champagne opened with a loud pop.
‘Well, here’s to the beginning of a successful partnership,’ Mark said, as he raised his glass.
‘Cheers,’ she said, clinking her glass with his.
‘So, I love the blog,’ he said. ‘Obviously.’
‘Thanks.’Nowshe was uncomfortable, her nervousness returning as she thought of all the things he thought he knew about her. She was proud that he liked her writing, but she’d written some pretty filthy stuff on her blog, and he thought it was true. He thought she was completely upfront about laying bare the most intimate details of hersex life for all the world to see – and it was a pretty lurid sex life. She took a slug of champagne to cover her embarrassment. She had to try not to think about that too much.
‘It’s nice to meet you in the flesh. I have to admit I’m quite relieved,’ Mark said, with a cheeky smile.
‘Relieved? Why?’
