I gazed up at him. “Yes,” I breathed, “I’ll come. I love you too, I know that now. I’ve known it for ages, actually, and couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. Mum can have Claudia and – ”
“Bring her,” he commanded. “Don’t leave her behind. Bring her, we’ll all go.”
My head swam. Lovers together in Vienna, holding hands over cafe tables, walking arm in arm down boulevards, drowning in each other’s eyes…with a small, agog, ten-year-old girl in tow. Grey eyes huge behind her specs, fascinated beyond belief. Mum and a man! Blimey, she’d be taking notes!
“No,” I said firmly, “no, she can stay with my mother, she’ll be fine there and – oh!” Suddenly my hand shot to my mouth. “Oh God, no, I can’t go!”
The taxi, with a bemused driver behind the wheel, still full of luggage, had trailed Sebastian back and was trundling up behind us.
“Why not?” demanded Sebastian.
“Because I can’t leave the country! I’m sort of on bail!”
“Bail!” He stepped back in horror.
“Yes, well, I was this morning, anyway. You see there was this murder and – ”
“Good God!”
“No – no, manslaughter, actually,” I added hastily, “but the body ended up in my home – ”
“Jesus!” He tore at his hair.
“I know, dreadful, under my cooker of all places, and the thing is, I promised the police I’d stay around, but – well, Vienna isn’t far away and they won’t need me for ages yet. There won’t be a trial for some time, I’m sure, so – so maybe if I asked – they’re terribly obliging down there at the station – maybe I could come next week!”
He stared at me in astonishment. “Right,” he said eventually, looking totally bewildered.
“You coming, mate, or what?” from behind us.
“He’s coming!” I called. “Go,” I insisted softly, pushing him gently. “Go. It’s enough for me to know you wanted me to come, that you came back for me. I don’t need to go to Vienna now, but I’ll join you when I can, I promise.”
He gazed at me, still with a degree of astonishment, then stepped forward, and gently took my hands.
“Liwy, it seems to me you lead a very unusual and complicated life. You see nutters and weirdos at every corner, you rant and rave and wave rakes in defence of your child, you consort with murderers, you stow dead bodies in your house and you’re on intimate terms with the local police. Heaven only knows what I’ve been doing with my life apart from writing the odd symphony, but I want you to know that I’m keen to be a part of this rich and varied tapestry of yours. If being with you means sitting in damp cellars forging passports, laundering money and stowing spare bodies away, then I’m your man. I’ll follow your lead blindly, be Clyde to your Bonnie, if that’s what you want.”
I giggled. “Idiot. I’m not in any sort of real trouble, it’s just – well, strange things have happened recently.”
He smiled. “You’re telling me.”
“There’s twenty quid on the meter, mate!”
“Go.” I bundled him in, and this time he went. I shut the door, and he held my hand through the window until the taxi started up and trundled away.
I watched Sebastian’s face in the back window, and as the cab turned into the main road, I raised my hand in salute, as he did too. I stood on that hot pavement, and knew I had yet more tears in my eyes. But this time, I knew why. I never thought I’d say that to a living soul again, not after Johnny. Those three little words. Not a living soul. Never believed I’d have that sort of luck. But I had. I’d said it, and what’s more – I sailed joyfully off along the hot pavements, my shoes feeling as if they’d got wings on – what’s more, I meant it.
EOF
Olivia’s Luck (2000) Page 50
