Bernard took her hand in his, resting their hands against her leg.
‘It’s so good to see you again,’ he whispered.
Alexandra only nodded, not sure what to say. In the end, she didn’t need to say anything: she simply dropped her head to his shoulder as he told the driver where to take them, and they rode in silence with their fingers intertwined. It should have been the most uncomfortable journey of her life, with not a word said to the man beside her, but to Alexandra, she simply had the strangest feeling of coming home. Beside Bernard she felt safe and content, and she only hoped that he felt the same.
Bernard hadn’t embellished the fact that he knew the owner—they’d been given the quaintest table for two tucked away against the wall, and he personally waited on their table. ‘Thank you, Peppino,’ Bernard said, when he brought them a bottle of wine.
‘On the house,’ the enthusiastic Italian said, slapping Bernard on the back. ‘I cried last time I went to the orchestra, this man is so talented.’
She smiled and nodded, but she was grateful when they were finally left alone. Bernard leaned forwards.
‘I have something to confess.’
Alexandra smiled, although she was puzzled at what he might have to tell her.
‘I brought you here because I knew he’d look after us. Otherwise it would have been a cheap steak dinner somewhere far less fancy.’
‘You don’t have to try to impress me, Bernard,’ she said, glancing away and fiddling with the napkin on her knee. ‘I would have been happy with fish and chips.’
He sighed. ‘It’s not every day a man gets to take a young woman like you out for dinner, Alexandra. I wanted to do something nice for you.’
Alexandra’s cheeks flushed with colour and she didn’t know what to say.
Bernard poured her a glass of wine and passed it to her. ‘Just let me impress you this one night. After this, it will be fish and chips every time, I promise.’
She took the glass and waited for him to pour his own, before clinking them gently together, unable to stop smiling at him.
‘To being extravagant, just this once,’ he said with a wink.
She found herself laughing, despite her embarrassment, and nodding in agreement with him.
‘Will mentioned that you play the violin,’ he said. ‘But that you don’t want to audition for the academy?’
Alexandra nodded. ‘That is all true.’ She took a little sip of her wine and found it pleasant on her tongue. She hadn’t tasted red wine before, but it was warm and silky in her throat, and she found she very much liked it.
‘Do you perform?’
‘Never!’ she laughed. ‘I play for hours sometimes, lost in the music, but only ever for myself.’
‘You’ve never wanted to perform?’
She opened her mouth to say no, but then found herself telling the truth. ‘I’ve always dreamed of performing for an audience. I can’t imagine the rush of adrenaline you must feel as the curtains are raised, as everyone is waiting with bated breath for the music to begin.’
He sat back in his chair and studied her, eyes dancing over hers. ‘You’re nothing like I expected, Alexandra. Nothing at all.’
She met his gaze, even as her skin grew pink and her fingers nervously played along the stem of the wine glass. How was she supposed to reply to such a statement?
‘What do you say about going to meet some friends of mine after dinner? I will still have you back home before ten.’
‘Musician friends?’ she asked.
‘They’re the only friends I have, if I’m being perfectly honest, but yes, musicians.’
She realised she was nodding, even though she was nervous.
‘I want to hear you play the violin, Alexandra, and I want to hear you play tonight.’
Two hours later, Alexandra found herself in the living room of a beautiful home in London’s Notting Hill, scarcely fifteen minutes from where she lived, tucked against the back wall and listening to some of the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. But as much as the music had captured her interest, the man next to her was making it almost impossible to focus, especially when his shoulder kept nudging hers and his fingers brushed hers every few seconds.
