“Whatever you want.” He took one of my feet into his hands and I moaned as he massaged my sore soles. I relaxed into the water, closing my eyes. “I saw your elephant. It’s looking good.”
“Yeah, I love making them. I thought I’d only ever want to make gardens but getting to make art out of nature is an awesome feeling. And being on set too, it’s fun.”
“Maybe you should have your own show.”
I opened my eyes. “What?”
“What? Areyouscared to dream now? I think you’d be a good teacher, or presenter. You’re smart, knowledgeable and easy on the eye.”
I snorted. “Who would putmein a show?”
“Why do you need someone else to put you in anything? Make your own. I’ll back you. Design gardens, sculptures, anything you want. Film it, post it. Build up a following. Pitch a show to a network.”
I stared at him. The idea took hold, beginning to percolate. “I think I need more experience first.”
“I didn’t have any experience when I opened my club or took over my fathers company. If you’re smart and you work hard, you figure it out as you go. I just want you to have your dream, Lo. I respect Imani but you’re in her shadow, I don’t like it.” He tugged on my foot, pulling me to him until I straddled his hips. “You should be the star.”
I kissed him. This man had once tried to keep me from the world, afraid it would take me away from him. Now he was trying to give it to me. “What about you? You know I want you to quit your father’s company, I know you’re not going back to running the club. What are you going to dream about?”
“Marrying you.” My heart skipped a beat.
“And children? You’ve mentioned them before.”
“Maybe.” His perfect brows knitted slightly. “Do you think I could be a good father?”
“Yes.” I didn’t have to think about it. “You would never abandon or harm a child which is more than I can say for both of our fathers.”
“Are children a part of your dream? Tell me the truth.”
I ran my fingers over the blue ribbon on his wrist. “I don’t know. Not right now at least. Maybe not for a long while, if ever. Am I enough for you? Just me, I mean.”
“More than enough.” He pulled me in for a deep kiss. He hadn’t answered my question about giving up his father’s company, but I decided not to push it for tonight.
The owl-faced receptionist blinked at me as I strode into the foyer of the Carlton hotel, hand in hand with Alfie Tell. I gave her a smile. This was a blast from the past.
“Maybe we should go and fuck on the balcony for old times sake,” I whispered, trying to get Alfie to crack a smile. It worked. Barely. He’d been tense the whole ride here.
I wondered why we’d never gone to the restaurant bar of the hotel before. Maybe back then he’d been trying to hide from me how recognisable he was. He certainly attracted attention as we entered.
He didn’t need to give his name to the hostess, she knew immediately who he was. She ignored me entirely as she directed us to a table where a waitress was practically bouncing on her toes. Alfie ordered sparkling water for us both.
“Is it a good thing your mother isn’t here yet?” I asked once the waitress had disappeared to get our drinks.
“It’s a good thing we’re not keeping her waiting,” he said, an edge in his voice. “Lola, please behave yourself today.” I tried not to roll my eyes. He’d said it a dozen times already.
“Why did you let me come if you’re so worried about me being uncouth?” ‘Let’ was a generous word. No way was I letting Alfie face his mother and all those feelings she unearthed on his own.
“Uncouth?” he repeated, looking amused for the first time all day. “I need you here. I always need you.”
“I won’t cause a scene, I promise.” I intended to keep that promise. No matter how much I disliked this woman.
As I sat, rubbing my thumb over the back of Alfie's hand, I thought about Carolyn Tell. About her silence. I wondered how much she knew about what her husband, Joseph had done to Alfie. I wondered how much she knew about Charles’ nefarious activities. A wave of nausea washed over me as I thought aboutthe years of abuse Alfie had endured, and how much of it Carolyn had ignored.
We didn’t have to wait long for her to arrive. Carolyn Tell was a punctual woman and like her son, she attracted attention when she entered a room. It must be a Tell thing.
Alfie’s mother looked like a movie star. One of those women from the old Hollywood era, the epitome of the once starlet who had aged out of the limelight but still held onto her beauty with an iron grip. Her face almost never moved, as if she was trying to protect it from lines. Her hair didn’t dare budge from its chignon.
I stood to greet her. She eyed my second hand dress that I’d picked up in a charity shop years ago. I had expected Alfie to wrap me up in Chanel this morning, a repeat of the grey dress fiasco, but he didn’t. Apparently he’d wanted to present me exactly as I am. Without the ‘uncouth’ behaviour.
