by Rebecca Lang
Standing there, Anna became more fully aware that he was out of her league. This lovely house, with its many artifacts that had clearly come from Africa long ago, spoke of a wealth that she had not dreamed of.
As she thought of that, she thought also of her earlier assumption, in what now felt like her youth, that she and Simon would one day marry. In her naïvety, coming from a largely egalitarian culture, she had not thought then that he might not want to marry her, but would perhaps have expectations of marrying a young woman from a background similar to his own.
Had Seth invited her here so that she would come to that very conclusion? The thought made her feel slightly sick, whereas a few minutes ago she had felt that something of a burden had been lifted from her.
The trouble was, she was getting more emotionally entangled with Seth than was perhaps good for her. She had better sober up and get real, both where he was concerned and in her dying relationship with Simon. Her somewhat romantic ideas that Simon would welcome and love their son might not be fact when he was confronted with them, himself a semi-invalid and suffering from severe depression. Perhaps where Simon was concerned, any feelings he had had for her might have died a natural death a long time ago.
‘That’s perfect,’ Seth said, standing just behind her. He put a hand on her bare neck, very gently, caressing her skin with his thumb.
As though stung by an electric shock, Anna spun round to face him, breaking the contact.
‘You have a very delectable neck, Anna,’ he said very quietly, smiling.
‘So I’ve been told,’ she said, surprised at how cool she sounded when she was really in turmoil, deciding to resist his charm, if she could, until she understood him better, if indeed that was going to happen. Once a man has kissed you, you can’t go back to an earlier mode of behaviour, but you can draw back.
‘You didn’t let it go to your head, though, did you?’ he said.
‘No. I’ve been told that I have cute ears, nice ankles, lovely eyebrows…the usual stuff,’ she said lightly.
‘So you do. You’re pretty nice altogether, Anna Grey,’ he said.
‘Back to business,’ she said. ‘What about this table? Would you rather be twelve feet away from me or is this all right—close, but at right angles?’
‘Give me close any time, even if I have to turn to look at you.’
She gave a few unnecessary tweaks to the objects on the table ‘We’ll bring the food in,’ he said. ‘Finn can choose what he wants.’
His housekeeper had put the food, a good variety, in serving dishes, some hot, which Seth had warmed up, some cold, which they carried into the dining room. Anna wished that she was not so intensely aware of Seth, of his every move, his presence near her. He was looking very attractive in an understated way, wearing a simple black turtle-neck cashmere sweater and dark grey trousers, so that she found that she was having trouble keeping her eyes off him.
It was odd that now Simon was within reach, she found that he was, in her mind and emotions, moving further away from her. Perhaps it had been sufficient for her to know that he was alive. For this evening she felt that she wanted to put him out of her mind altogether, because she had been thinking about him too much over the fast few years, so that almost everything else had been squeezed out. There was a refrain in her head now, the voice was Seth’s. ‘You and me, you and me.’ If only it could happen. There was an air of unreality about everything, a blurring of the real and the mythical. Somehow, in her mind, Seth was real.
Tuning into her mood, Seth put a hand on her shoulder before they brought the last dishes from the kitchen. ‘Try to put everything I told you earlier out of your mind, Anna,’ he suggested. ‘Just for now. I know you have an awful lot to think about. Worrying is not going to change anything. Let what will be, be.’
Anna nodded. ‘I’m trying,’ she said.
Seth put on some light background music, then the three of them sat down. Finn was next to her, high up in the booster seat, so that she could easily put food on his plate.
‘Tell us what you would like, Finn,’ Seth said. Then he proceeded to explain to Finn what was in the dishes, so that he could understand. There was a soufflé, which Seth explained was made of eggs, quiche and various vegetables, as well as some French fries especially for Finn that Seth had fried himself.
‘Eggs,’ Finn said, pointing to the soufflé. ‘And…um…’
‘French fries?’ Seth prompted, so that Anna laughed.
‘Yes…please. Beans…and…um…’
‘Quiche?’ Seth said.
‘Yes.’
‘That should be enough for now,’ Anna said, as both she and Seth put food on Finn’s plate. ‘You can add more later, if you’re still hungry.’ The scene was so gratifying to her that she had to suppress a rather idiotic urge to grin constantly.
‘Orange juice, Finn?’ Seth asked, picking up a jug.
‘Yes…please.’
‘Will you have some wine, Anna? I’m just having mineral water, as I’ll need all my wits about me to drive you back home.’
‘I thought you were going to say that you need your wits to deal with us.’ She laughed.
‘That, too.’
‘I will have a little wine, please.’
Once they had helped themselves to food, Seth talked to them, drawing them both out about their lives in a very skilled way, while telling them something about his boyhood in Africa, going away to boarding school, then going home for the holidays. He told her about going to school in England, and then living in the United States with his parents. For Finn, he talked about the wild animals that he had seen as a child, and pointed out animals in some of the pictures and masks that he had on the walls of the dining room, as well as soapstone sculptures. Finn looked around him in surprise and fascination.
Very gradually, Anna relaxed. She marvelled at how good Seth was with Finn, who chattered and laughed once his initial shyness had been overcome. The food was delicious. She had helped herself to quiche and asparagus. Seth had opened chilled white wine for her, which was having a soothing effect. They both became less wary underneath the surface banter.
I’m going to enjoy this, Anna told herself. Let tomorrow take care of itself.
For her part, she told him about summer jobs she’d had in Europe and South America, how she had backpacked through Europe with two friends. ‘That was in my youth,’ she added.
He grinned at her and squeezed her hand, while Finn looked on in silent surprise. ‘You’re still very young,’ Seth said. ‘Young and beautiful.’
‘Are you flirting with me again?’ she queried lightly.
‘Perhaps I am flirting,’ he said. ‘You should get back into the habit of it, Anna. It’s an art. I’m rusty myself, though you make it easy for me.’
‘Without even trying,’ she said lightly.
After a while the scene took on a magical quality for her, and she felt her eyes glowing, as well as her cheeks. The candlelight danced around the room, reflected on the crystal wineglasses and on the silver, on the polished wood of the table.
‘Oh, it’s snowing,’ she said, looking through a window that faced a side garden. The softly falling snow, large feathery flakes, was the final touch to the scene, making them feel cosy and enclosed in warmth. ‘Look, Finn, snow!’ she pointed out.
Seth got up and put a match to the fire in the room, which had already been prepared with paper, kindling and a few small logs. The flames added to the almost surreal charm of the magnificent room. Finn seemed mesmerised by the flames, the candles and the snow. ‘Snow!’ he repeated, pointing to the window.
‘I think he’ll remember this dinner,’ she said to Seth, ‘for the rest of his life. You know those vignettes that lodge in the mind when we’re very young, and stay there for ever? Snow and fire together…and the dog, of course.’
‘Yes.’
When they had finished the main course, he put a hand on her arm. ‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘Keep an eye on Finn. I’ll
clear up and bring in the pudding.’
When he had left the room with their used plates, she gave a contented sigh and let her gaze wander around. Earlier she had feared that when she was back home she would not be able to sleep when the time came, and would possibly have bad dreams about what Seth had told her of Simon. Already she had had visions of Simon being hit by a car. But now, sitting there, she knew that this scene would be in her mind as she lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come. This lovely room, Finn sitting close beside her on one side and Seth on the other, was etching itself into her mind. The scene was made spectacular by the glow of the fire, reflected in mirrors and in the glass of pictures, on the glossy walls.
How she would love to live in this house, would feel safe and secure here. It seemed solid and enduring, a place that would enclose one with its history, which she felt sure was one of contentment.
Velvet came into the room and stretched herself out in front of the fire on a rug. She added to the elegance of the white marble fireplace surround and mantle.
‘There’s dog,’ Finn said. ‘Velvet.’
‘Yes, she loves the fire.’
There was a large raspberry and strawberry flan, set in a custard, for pudding, and two bowls containing scoops of ice cream, one of chocolate and the other of vanilla. ‘This is soya ice cream,’ Seth said, wielding a knife to cut the flan. ‘I’ve made some decaffeinated coffee, Anna. Would you like some? And maybe a small glass of a liqueur?’
‘Yes, that would be wonderful. This is the best meal I’ve had for a long time, Seth. Thank you. And judging by the amount that Finn’s eaten, he’s appreciated it, too.’
‘It’s my pleasure. I appreciate your company, more than I can say—both of you,’ he said.
For some reason his words made her want to cry, and she bit her lip and blinked rapidly. Over the last few hours she had been so focussed on herself and how she was feeling that she had not thought that Seth might be lonely. He seemed to have so much to offer, to be so sought after, particularly by attractive, accomplished women, that she had not thought he might be like someone who was surrounded by water but not have a drop to drink, so to speak, like a sailor drifting at sea.
Not that she thought she was for him…
She would not presume.
‘Did you…?’ She hesitated. ‘Did you live here with your wife, Seth?’ The question had been nagging at her, and now, with the aid of the wine, perhaps, she had the courage to ask it.
‘No, this was not our home. We lived in the States for a lot of the time. We were married for about two years.’
‘So no ghosts of former wives looking over our shoulders,’ she said, relieved.
‘No. This house belonged to a university professor and his large family, who had it for decades. It was a happy and busy household, so I heard.’
‘Tired, Mummy,’ Finn said, after eating his ice cream. He yawned, looking adorable with chocolate plastered around his mouth.
‘Could he lie down on a sofa?’ Anna asked Seth, wiping Finn’s face with her handkerchief. ‘Perhaps he’ll sleep while we have coffee. I suppose I ought to go soon. Although I don’t want to go…it’s been so delightful.’
Seth lifted Finn out of the seat and carried him into the front sitting room that faced the street and put him down on a wide sofa, covering him with a rug. It felt strange to Anna to see him carrying her son, an unusual feeling of at last having someone to share the love and the chores, the responsibility of a child, if only as a momentary illusion.
Although her parents helped her tremendously, that was not the same as having a partner. So many times she felt alone.
Anna stroked the hair away from Finn’s face. ‘Go to sleep for a while, darling. Then we’ll go home again in the car soon.’ She stayed with him for the minute or so that it took him to fall asleep.
They could linger now over coffee. At the table, she felt intensely sensitised to Seth’s presence so near to her. Although the wine had relaxed her, it had also weakened her resolve to keep her distance from him emotionally until she felt more stable. ‘I’m so used to speaking in baby language to Finn,’ she said, ‘that I often wonder if I’ll ever be capable of having a proper mature conversation again.’
‘You can talk baby language to me any time,’ he said, so that she looked at him, her mouth stretching into a smile that she knew was seductive. She could not help herself.
Responding, he took her hand, which was lying on the table near him, and with a finger he traced her lifeline, from the bottom of her index finger down to her wrist. ‘You have a long life,’ he said softly, looking into her eyes.
‘That’s what an old gypsy told me,’ she said, ‘when I last went to a summer fair. I don’t suppose she was a real gypsy, but I believed everything she said.’
They smiled at each other, heads close together as they both looked at the palm of her hand. ‘You will achieve happiness,’ he said, ‘with a dark stranger.’ When Anna laughed out loud, he went on, ‘Of course, he will no longer be a stranger when happiness creeps up on you.’
‘Oh? I also know something about palmistry.’ She took his hand and studied the lines on it. ‘You too will achieve happiness after a turbulent time, and you will have…let me see…six children. Or is it seven? A lot, anyway.’
A certain stillness came over him, so that Anna was acutely aware that she had, inadvertently, hit a nerve with him. Then she remembered what Emma had told her, about Seth having wanted children and his wife had not. At the time she had more or less dismissed that as unsubstantiated gossip, having had her mind on other things.
‘Really?’ he said. Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the palm, folding her fingers over the kiss. ‘As my nanny in Africa used to say, “Keep that kiss in your hand, hold it tight, until we meet again.”’
Their eyes met, and she felt hers prickling with tears. ‘That’s very sweet,’ she whispered. ‘Did that help you to bear the parting? When you were going off to boarding school in another country, trying to be brave?’
‘Yes, it did,’ he said softly. He reached forward and lifted her chin up. ‘Hey, don’t cry.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’
He kissed her then, leaning the short distance between them, and she closed her eyes. Then abruptly she got up from the table and went over to the fire, standing to look into the flames.
‘I must go,’ she said.
‘Of course you must,’ he agreed.
Above the white marble mantelpiece was a very large gilt-framed mirror in which she could see almost all of the room behind her. As she watched, Seth got up from the table and came over to her, putting his arms around her shoulders as he stood behind her. As they remained like that, his eyes met hers in the mirror in the flickering firelight and the dimness of candlelight.
‘Behold, a dark stranger,’ he murmured in her ear.
Slowly she turned round within his arms and put her arms around his neck.
‘I’d like to pick you up and carry you upstairs to my bed,’ he said.
‘You’d better wait until I’m willing to walk,’ she said. ‘If.’
He laughed down at her. ‘You’re good for me, Anna Grey,’ he said. ‘You have a way of pricking any bubbles of arrogance that I might have floating over my head. I always think of them as balloons that can be pricked when I observe them in other people…mostly my colleagues.’
‘As surgeons go, you’re pretty good in that regard,’ she said.
‘I hoped that by bringing you here I’d make you forget Simon for a while.’
‘Oh, I did,’ she protested. ‘Really. I’m just so sort of emotionally labile. Tonight I’ll think of this place, the firelight…’ She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him.
It was a signal for him to pick her up in his arms and carry her over to a big, squashy armchair. ‘I’ve been wanting to do this Rhett Butler thing all evening,’ he said huskily, putting on an act, so that she laughed. ‘Only I thought that Fi
nn might be alarmed.’
‘He would be.’
When he sat down with her on his lap, her head against his shoulder, she closed her eyes again when he kissed her, blotting out everything else.
Later, she knew that she must ask him about himself, those questions that were uppermost in her mind, and like a barrier between them, building tension. Very soon she really had to leave. ‘Tell me about your past, Seth. I would like to know about your wife…about why you divorced. I want to understand you. If you don’t mind, that is…’
‘My wife didn’t want children,’ he said, staring beyond her into the fire. ‘Before we were married, she said she did want them. After about six months she confessed to me that she’d had a tubal ligation about two years before, as she’d decided she wanted to concentrate on her career and didn’t ever want children. She had lied to me in a very blatant way. Perhaps she thought I would just accept it once we were married…but I didn’t. It was the betrayal of trust, not the thing itself so much, although that, too.’
‘Oh, Seth,’ she whispered. ‘What an awful thing.’
‘From that moment on I couldn’t trust a thing she said,’ he went on, his voice flat. ‘Our relationship was dead for me. There was nothing left to say. I realised I didn’t love her, had never loved her. All I wanted was to get out, as quickly as possible.’
This time she squeezed his hand, then held it against her cheek, as though she could will him by the contact to be comforted. ‘I had no idea, of course,’ she said quietly.
‘That’s my story, in a nutshell,’ he said. ‘I have trouble trusting women—anyone, really. I’m always looking for hidden motives, the real story behind the apparent one. You could say I’m pretty messed up. I can’t stand lies. It isn’t that I wanted a brood mare. Do you understand, Anna?’
‘Yes, I think I do,’ she said, clasping his hand in both of hers. ‘It was a despicable thing to do. It’s…an alien world to me…such machinations. I can’t understand it. There must be plenty of men around who don’t want children, so why marry one who does?’
