Persuade Me

by Juliet Archer

  Anna gave a tight smile. ‘I’ve just told you, I haven’t used anything.’ She got abruptly to her feet. ‘I’d better go, I’ve got a few things to do before tonight.’ She turned to Dottie. ‘Thank you so much for inviting Mona to the theatre, she’s really looking forward to it. You did know that Henrietta’s not coming, didn’t you? She’s meeting up with some friends, so there’ll be a spare place and I wondered–’

  ‘Not any more, Minty’s taken it,’ Walter said triumphantly, positive that Anna had been about to ask if the Smith woman could join their party.

  ‘I phoned her as soon as I knew we were one short,’ William put in. He added anxiously, ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

  ‘Of course,’ Anna said, looking anything but. ‘Anyway, thank you for tea and I’ll see you all later.’

  Walter exchanged glances with Lisa. Anna had obviously promised the Smith woman that she could join them; now she’d have to tell her she couldn’t. No doubt the woman would be terribly disappointed, but did she still not realise that the Elliots – apart from Anna – were very particular about the people they mixed with?

  Then he noticed Lisa’s face darken. Looking round, he was just in time to see William hurrying out of the room after Anna. Why, Walter couldn’t imagine – except that the dear boy was too helpful for his own good.

  But wait a minute – hadn’t Mona been complaining to Lisa that Anna was desperate to break up her marriage? No wonder she’d been rattled just now when he’d asked her about her little secret! Well, making one sister jealous could be seen as an unfortunate lapse of judgement; making both sisters jealous, however, was the act of a wanton relationship-wrecker.

  From that moment, Walter resolved to do anything – anything – to keep William at Lisa’s side.

  ‘Anna, darling, whatever’s wrong?’

  She whirled round to find William standing unexpectedly close.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said automatically, slipping into her coat.

  As she turned to open the front door and escape, his hand shot out and held the door firmly shut. ‘Is it anything I’ve done – like inviting Araminta to the theatre?’

  A grim smile. ‘No, although I know someone who’d have jumped at the chance of going.’ She hesitated, then decided to trust him with the truth. ‘It’s more the whole Lady Dalrymple thing – or rather Walter’s behaviour when he’s around people like her. I’d forgotten how nauseating he can be.’

  And she couldn’t help comparing this afternoon’s pretentiousness with the easy camaraderie of Rick and the Crofts earlier; but she wasn’t going to say that to William.

  She went on, ‘Look, I’ve come to tea, which is what you all wanted, so I’m off home now – if you’ll let me go.’ A pointed stare at his hand on the door.

  ‘If it was up to me,’ he said softly, ‘I’d never let you go.’

  Once again, these were the words that she wanted to hear from someone else. She bit her lip and looked straight at him. ‘Go back to the others, sit and enjoy their inane conversation and narrow-minded opinions. That’s not me, though. I prefer clever, well-informed people, like Jenny and Tom last night.’

  ‘Don’t underestimate the value of networking with the Dorotheas of this world – believe me, they have their uses.’ A dazzling grin. ‘But otherwise I agree, last night’s company was the best – and not just because of Jenny and Tom.’ He took her hands in his and dropped a light kiss on each palm.

  She pulled her hands away, wrenched open the door and frowned at him. ‘Please understand – I’m not like my father. Flattery will get you absolutely nowhere.’

  ‘I’m not flattering you, I’m simply speaking the truth.’ He paused. ‘I was hoping you’d know the difference.’

  Her only answer was to slam the door behind her.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Whatever the going rate, Rick thought, a box at the Theatre Royal was probably a bargain from a PR point of view. Overhanging the stage at one end of the Dress Circle, it thrust him and Guy almost literally into the spotlight. As the auditorium filled, they became the object of mainly female attention; faces turned their way – some with theatre glasses, others without – and a few women even pointed their fingers. Thank God his mother wasn’t here to see them; ‘don’t point, Frederick’ had been one of the many don’ts of his childhood.

  ‘Did you have to take a box?’ he said to Guy. ‘It’s like being in a bloody goldfish bowl.’

  Guy shrugged. ‘I thought it would impress Marie-Claude and, anyway, everything else had sold out. I only got this because the old bird who hired the other boxes didn’t want it. She’d heard it was haunted by the Grey Lady, whoever she might be.’

  ‘You certainly know how to arrange a relaxing night out at the theatre. While the lights are up, we’ve got people watching our every move. And when the lights go down, we’ll be wondering if the resident ghost has joined us.’

  But Guy was too busy checking his BlackBerry to retaliate. So Rick scanned the crowds below for what seemed like the tenth time, hoping to catch a glimpse of Anna. That was the only good thing about this box – she’d see him a mile off. But until she did, he’d have to be patient; bit of a tall order after this morning …

  Guy interrupted his train of thought. ‘Great news, the manager at Molland’s is offering another signing for a week on Friday. There’s been a cancellation at a much bigger venue and, based on the number of people who wanted tickets for your talk last night, he thinks he can fill it easily.’ He looked across at Rick. ‘It’ll mean not going to your sister’s until the next day, but it’s only an hour or so from here, isn’t it?’

  Rick nodded slowly while his brain raced through the implications. If everything went well with Anna tonight, he’d have to wait nearly two weeks to see her again – unless she came to see him during his northern tour? And if it didn’t go well tonight, he’d make one last attempt as soon as he returned. Which meant that the event Guy was arranging in Bath was a no-brainer.

  ‘OK, I’ll do it,’ he said, with a pretend scowl. ‘Consider it a thank you for putting up with me.’

  The response was a broad grin and a sarcastic ‘Deep down you’re a real softie, aren’t you?’

  While Guy typed a reply on his BlackBerry, Rick returned to his search. This time, his gaze rested on the box directly opposite; the twin of this one, not yet occupied. Below it was a box for three, and entering it – flanked by her up-his-own-arse father and a little roly-poly woman in a fuss of green frills and gold feathers – was Anna, straight and slim and enchanting in an off-the-shoulder silver-grey dress, clinging to every curve.

  At that very moment, the little woman trained her theatre glasses on him and nudged Anna excitedly. She glanced up … and his whole body stilled in anticipation. He was too far away to read the expression in her eyes; but, when she turned and left the box, he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him.

  He muttered his excuses to Guy and went to meet her.

  Anna hovered between the two staircases leading up to the Dress Circle, looking anxiously at the faces milling around her. She’d reckoned that this was the obvious place – but where was he?

  She slumped back against the wall. They must have missed each other, or perhaps he hadn’t understood what she wanted him to do. She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes or so until curtain up; the noisy crowds were starting to thin and, in a moment or two, she’d have to return to her seat. She closed her eyes and tried to compose herself for the evening ahead. What a prospect – Lady Dalrymple asking more stupid questions and her father listening obsessively to her answers, in case she gave offence. And all the time she’d be wondering how to meet up with Rick …

  ‘Anna.’

  She opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her, smiling the little smile that used to make her melt into his arms. Smart, tight-fitting jeans; sky-blue V-necked sweater, hinting at the tanned, muscled chest beneath; hands in the pockets of a black jacket – the only concession to formalit
y. He was wearing something that would fall between ‘travesty’ and ‘tragedy’ on her father’s style barometer – and he looked amazing.

  His gaze flicked over her bare shoulders and back to her face. ‘Nice dress.’

  She felt herself go red. ‘You too.’ Even redder now. ‘What I mean is, you look nice.’ How tame – think of something … provocative. ‘About coffee with Sophie and Ed earlier – I sort of invited myself along. And I’m really glad I did.’

  ‘I’ve never enjoyed chocolate fudge cake as much as I did this morning,’ he said, his voice warm with amusement. ‘In fact, since I was last in Bath – walking out of your flat, being unforgivably rude – everything’s turned out far better than I expected.’

  Deep breath. ‘Do you mean with Lou – or me?’

  The slow familiar bedroom laugh; eyes dancing an invitation, as they had that summer in France. ‘I mean both, definitely both. We’ll come to you later–’ her heart missed a beat – ‘but first I need to explain about Lou. On that walk at Uppercross, I made a right idiot of myself – no wonder she thought I wanted to jump into bed with her. From then on, I spent most of the time telling her to take it slow so that we could get to know each other. But the damage was already done, as the accident at Lyme Regis showed–’

  ‘Remember what Henrietta said, you couldn’t have prevented it.’ She put out her hand to reassure him, then stopped. Too public here, people were already staring at them – they recognised Rick, no doubt – and the play would start soon. Later, when they went somewhere to talk properly, it would be different …

  But to him, it seemed, other people didn’t matter at all; before her hand could drop to her side, he caught it in his and said wryly, ‘Let me take the credit for my own stupidity. But I have to give you some credit for James and Lou getting together, although I can’t imagine you knew that when you turned him into a hero on the Cobb.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re right – I never expected it! Anyway, it’s probably more down to Lou’s personality change.’ Then, in case he’d not heard it from Ben, she added softly, ‘Henrietta says James is already applying for teaching posts in Somerset. Apparently Roger and Barbara have invited him to move into the Great House until he and Lou can get a place of their own.’

  The light faded from his eyes, and he let go of her hand. ‘That’s just like the Musgroves, isn’t it? Makes a big difference if the parents are supportive.’ He looked down at his feet. ‘A big difference. But all the same …’

  ‘All the same – what?’ she prompted.

  He cleared his throat. ‘I think Lou’s a great girl, and I really hope she and James will be happy. It’s just …’ He looked up at her, his face set. ‘You’ll know from talking to him that he’s a really clever guy, always reading, and writing his poetry, however crap it might be. Trouble is – Lou’s not at all intellectual, whereas Julie, his ex, most certainly was … And I think he’ll miss that, once the novelty’s worn off.’ A pause; then out rushed more words, spilling over each other like waves on a shore. ‘Maybe he should have asked himself why Julie left him, and fought to win her back, because compared to Lou she was special, very special, and you don’t get over someone like that, ever.’ His voice was low and urgent now, and he held one clenched fist to the left side of his chest. ‘I know you don’t.’

  She stared at him, sensing that he was talking about himself as much as James. She wanted so much to believe that she was his ‘someone special’. But, equally, it could be any woman from the past ten years; she knew so little about his life in Australia …

  Later, when they had more time, she would ask him who he meant. Not yet. Not here. Instead she said shyly, ‘What did you think of Lyme?’

  ‘Lyme?’ He frowned. ‘Pretty, quaint, typically English. I can see its attractions – but, after what happened, I’m not in a hurry to go back.’

  ‘Please don’t say that.’ She gave him an apologetic smile. ‘You see, Lyme’s one of my favourite places. I went there a lot as a child, with my mother, and once–’

  ‘Anna!’ A voice like the crack of a whip – Minty, just a few yards behind Rick, with William next to her.

  Rick jerked his head round. Anna couldn’t see his expression – but she could see Minty’s, cold and condemning. And William’s, a bland, impenetrable mask.

  Then the bell rang, long and loud, for curtain up. Without another word, or even a look, Rick stabbed his hands back in his pockets, turned his back on her and walked away.

  He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets again until he was in the box, safe from temptation. The temptation to reach out and trace the pale curves of her shoulders above the silver-grey dress – which, when he got close, turned out to be made of the finest wool, smooth as a second skin. The temptation to cup her face in his hands and kiss her hard, over and over and over again. And finally, just as overwhelming, the temptation to flatten that smug-looking man with a single smash of his fist. Oh, and to tell the Russell woman – or The Godmother, as he’d nicknamed her in one of his darker moments – that she was welcome to pick up the pieces.

  ‘You OK?’ Guy whispered, as the curtain went up.

  He gave a curt nod and stared down at the stage: a sunlit sitting room, with three young women coming to life. The one in blue spoke first.

  ‘It’s exactly a year since Father died …’

  He didn’t hear the rest. A movement across the auditorium caught his attention and he looked over. The box for two was no longer empty; in the light from the stage, he could make out a blond man leaning in close to a dark-haired woman as they shared a programme. So close, in fact, that it was obvious he wanted to be sharing much, much more – if he wasn’t already.

  And the woman’s dress was silver grey.

  Anna wished she’d made a fuss and insisted on returning to her original seat. With her thoughts still full of Rick, she hadn’t realised where William was leading her until they were almost upstairs in the Dress Circle. There was no sign of Minty, and she presumed that she’d taken her place between Lady Dalrymple and Walter. She couldn’t face fighting a path through all the people behind her and asking Minty to swap; but she resolved to do exactly that as soon as the interval came round.

  She was dimly aware of William placing a programme on her lap and the curtain lifting; but she couldn’t concentrate on the opening scenes of the play. Her mind kept twisting Rick’s words this way and that like a kaleidoscope. Nice dress … Everything’s turned out far better than I expected … We’ll come to you later … Compared to Lou she was special, very special, and you don’t get over someone like that, ever. I know you don’t … When she viewed it as him trying to tell her that he still loved her, she felt exquisitely happy; when she viewed it in any other light, she felt utterly miserable. And that was the trouble – it was all too open to interpretation.

  At last she forced herself to tune in to the play; just as well Three Sisters was one where she could instantly pick up the thread. She’d almost grown up with it, intrigued by the title as well as her mother’s passion for Chekhov. When she was young, she couldn’t make much sense of it; but by her twenties she’d come to understand it only too well – and, instead of identifying with only one sister, she found traces of herself in each of them. Like Olga, she was practical and conscientious. Like Irina, she was idealistic about finding true love – but, ultimately, resigned to a life without it. And like Masha she’d fallen for someone at eighteen …

  Now William was murmuring in her ear – something about needing her to explain which sister was which, and why soldiers were garrisoned in the Russian provinces. She answered his questions as briefly as possible, then pretended to focus all her attention on the play. When she sensed him doing the same, she stole a sideways glance at the box opposite, wondering if Rick was finding it equally difficult to concentrate. But he was staring, stony-faced, at the stage.

  And no wonder. Irina was talking about Masha’s unhappiness – ‘She married when she was eighteen, when
he seemed to her the wisest of men. Now it’s different.’ After seven years of marriage, Masha was totally disillusioned and on the brink of a doomed affair with Vershinin, the soldiers’ commanding officer.

  Would it have been the same for Anna if she’d gone away with Rick at that age? One thing was certain, Rick wouldn’t have been as forgiving as Masha’s husband Kulygin …

  No change of scenery between Acts One and Two, just different lighting to suggest evening. And soon came the words that Anna knew by heart, spoken by Masha: ‘Surely we must believe in something, or at least seek some sort of truth, otherwise our lives are empty, empty … To live without understanding why cranes fly, why a child is born, why stars light up the sky … You’ve got to know what you’re living for, or there’s no point to anything.’

  Her mother had always interpreted this as a justification for religious faith. But now, for the first time, Anna saw it as a crystallisation of her personal philosophy. Her happiest times had been with her mother, and then those few weeks in France with Rick. Which wasn’t to say that she depended on another person to make life worth living; it was rather that, for her, a soul mate gave everything a clearer, brighter purpose.

  Soul mate. Memories of Rick last night, sharing his thoughts on monogamy and his dream of a mate for the rest of his life …

  These words of Masha’s were a call to action. Time to believe in something, or at least seek some sort of truth.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  As soon as the curtain went down after Act Two, Rick was on his feet.

  ‘Need some fresh air,’ he muttered to Guy.

  The other man grinned at him, unperturbed. ‘A drink, more like. You look as though you’ve just seen the Grey Lady!’