‘Sounds intriguing.’
‘Addison has books about them. What they were used for and so on. Torture chambers mainly, from what I’ve read. During the Roman era, Malta was a slave colony, but the tortures went on throughout time, even during the French Occupation.’
While Gerry marvelled, the streets reminded Riva of Bobby. She felt as if she might turn around and see him smiling at her, her heart lifting and then lurching when she understood it would not happen. Could not happen. If she ever saw him here, he would not be smiling, and neither would she.
‘Shall we get out of the city now?’ she suggested. ‘I can show you St Paul’s Cathedral another time. You can’t miss its red-and-white striped dome.’
She took Gerry to H-ag?ar Qim, the prehistoric temple complex situated on a ridge on the southern edge of the island, where they walked around for half an hour. After that they drove to the village of Qrendi, where they found a coffee shop and then went further south to the caves.
‘You can see something of them from high up on the cliff,’ she said. ‘We just need to walk a little. Though the best way is to take a boat out.’
She didn’t mention that Bobby had hired a boat and shown her caves and the amazing blue sea, and she fell silent.
‘Anything wrong?’ Gerry asked, after a while.
She swallowed and shook her head.
They walked on and looked down from the cliffs, Gerry blinking behind his glasses.
‘Maybe tomorrow we can go to the Dingli cliffs,’ she said. ‘They’re my favourite.’
‘I’m hoping that tomorrow we can get back to work.’
‘Of course.’
‘I didn’t mean to sound brusque.’ He paused. ‘Look, I can see something is wrong. Is there anything I can do? I’m a good listener.’
In fact, that evening turned out to be the time Riva did talk. After a late supper, Addison rose to his feet and yawned. ‘I’m going to call it a night, but feel free to take a bottle of wine and this charming young man to your apartment, Riva. I will see you both in the morning.’
‘You don’t have to come with me,’ Riva said, once Addison had gone. ‘But I’d better go. It’s just Addison’s way of saying he wants some peace and the apartment to himself. Sifting through his memories of his wife must be emotionally exhausting.’
‘I’d like to come with you,’ Gerry said, glancing at his leather-strapped wristwatch. ‘If you don’t mind. It’s only ten.’
After that she could hardly say no, so nodded but found Addison had locked the study door to her apartment. He always kept the key with him, so they would have to go down the stairs and into her apartment from the hall and the little Moroccan garden.
She led Gerry there, but when she unlocked her door,she immediately saw she’d left the bedroom door open and the lamp on. Apart from the waste of electricity, it plainly looked like an invitation. He took hold of her hand very carefully and studied her eyes, as if working out what she expected of him. When he smiled, she knew immediately and nodded.
He bent to kiss her gently and afterwards she tried to speak. He put a finger to her lips then removed the scarf from her hair. She’d worn a different one every day.
‘I’ve been wondering about your hair. Why do you hide these gorgeous curls?’ he said, running his fingers through them.
‘I’m growing the black colour out.’
‘It’s almost gone. Your red hair is glorious.’ After a moment he added, ‘Riva, Addison put me in the picture about his nephew, Robert.’
She suddenly felt vulnerable, more unsure than she had been.
‘Only if you want to,’ he said, glancing at the bed. ‘No strings.’
Instantly she knew this had been Addison’s doing. He wanted her to get over Bobby and thought this kind, gentle man might help her. Addison had known all along he was going to go with the love story.
She began to laugh. At Addison’s boldness, at his audacity, at his wisdom.
Gerry smiled. ‘What?’
‘Did Addison ask you to make love to me?’
He shook his head. ‘No. For Christ’s sake. No. He only said you might need a bit of cheering up.’
