‘My new friend Riva, over from France. Riva, this is Mr Stanley Lucas.’
He held out his hand, scrutinising her. ‘How do you do?’
She shook his hand and replied, although she hadn’t liked being called a specimen, and his hand was cold.
‘And may I ask—’
‘Ah, there’s Archie,’ Lottie interjected excitedly, pointing out a solidly built, cheerful-looking, red-faced man with sandy hair talking to another man who had his back to her.
Mr Stanley Lucas bowed and took his leave.
Archie had a broad smile for Lottie the moment he spotted her, but he was not the least bit glamorous; morewhat Riva’s mother would have called suitable husband material. He marched over and shook Riva’s hand warmly.
‘How jolly to meet you,’ he said.
She was about to reply but her attention had been caught by the man he had been talking to and who had just turned round – and at whom she was now staring.
‘Oh, that’s Bobby,’ Lottie said.
Riva had all but let her mouth fall open, because striding across was the man she had met on her first day here, now wearing an exquisitely tailored suit.
‘Robert Beresford,’ he said, and winked as he reached her.
‘Sir Robert Beresford, Baronet,’ Archie corrected with a chuckle.
‘I—’ Riva stammered.
‘What the lady is trying to say,’ Bobby interrupted, clearly finding her surprise amusing, ‘if she won’t mind me telling, is that we’ve already met. I do believe I offered to show her around Malta.’
‘Yes,’ Riva said, collecting herself and inclining her head. ‘You did.’
Lottie gave her a wide-eyed sideways glance and Riva shrugged.
‘Let’s see where you’re seated,’ Bobby said. ‘Talk amongst yourselves.’ And he sauntered around the long table nonchalantly picking up and putting down name cards as if he owned the world.
He probably does, Riva thought as she watched him discreetly switching one or two. When he came back, he whispered to her behind cupped hands. ‘Feign surprised delight when you find seated yourself next to me.’
She grinned at him, loving his confidence but then, horror of horrors, her heart started to race as she recalled what she’d told him on the day they’d first met. She had said she was a dancer with a job at The Evening Star. Not only was she a financially struggling cabaret dancer on Strait Street while he was a blooming English baronet – but he could very easily expose her to the whole party. Oh God. What was she going to do? She glanced at the door wondering if she might be able to make a break for it. He touched her on the elbow and whispered again. ‘No running away. Your secret is safe with me.’
CHAPTER 18
Riva slipped on a yellow cotton dress that made the most of her curvaceous figure and grabbed her high heels and straw hat before climbing down into adghaisaand setting off for Valletta. At the dinner, Bobby had wheedled her address out of Lottie and had written to invite her to meet him in the gardens as before. She was in an especially good mood. Her week at work had gone well, although she’d wondered about the age of some of the girls working in the club. Some looked barely sixteen and many of them spoke hardly any English.
She had already spent several afternoons sitting peacefully in the shade of the Lower Barrakka Gardens, either reading or watching the shimmering Mediterranean and the vessels entering and leaving the port. She loved the little sailing boats painted blue, green and red, and when she asked, she was told they were from Gozo. Today,however, she headed for the cranky old lift that would take her up to the upper gardens and Bobby.
As she stepped out of the lift, she saw him before he spotted her, and she stood for a moment to stare. He wore no hat and his blonde hair looked almost white in the searing sunshine. He turned, as if feeling her eyes on his back, and waved. She walked across and stood before him, suddenly shy, yet feeling – again – that this man was going to have a huge impact on her life. Somehow.
‘Hello,’ she said.
He kissed her on the cheek.
Riva had always sensed things before they happened, although she didn’t necessarily believe her own imaginings. And today everything was exactly as it should be. He was here, she was here. What more could there be?
‘Thought we’d have lunch with my uncle,’ he said as he took her hand. ‘In Mdina.’
‘All right,’ she said, but hadn’t expected that. She would have preferred a day alone with Bobby.
‘How about a drive to the Dingli cliffs before lunch?’
