‘Escape back to the country…?’ he murmured, as soon as they were seated, conveniently at the very end of their row.
Megan looked at him with surprise. ‘Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?’ she asked lightly.
‘I prefer to call it taking a healthy interest in what’s happening around me. You never told me that you were planning to bolt back to the countryside. Back up to Scotland?’
‘You make it sound as though I’ve already bought the rail ticket and packed my bags. And, no, I don’t think I’ll be moving back to Scotland any time soon. You could say I’ve become accustomed to the tropical weather down south.’
Megan watched, entranced, at the people moving between the seats, programmes in their hands. She had forgotten how exciting the atmosphere in a theatre could be—the feeling of pleasant anticipation that hung in the air just before the curtain was raised, the orchestra at the front, trying out a few bars, getting the note just right for when they launched into the first number.
‘But London doesn’t suit you…’ Alessandro murmured.
‘It suits me at the moment. But, no, I can’t see myself staying here to live for ever.’
‘Because it suits people like me? People who enjoy the jungle warfare of the business world?’
Megan looked sideways at the man sitting next to her. In his dark suit and trademark white shirt, with his gold watch peeping from under the cuffs of the shirt and his dark hair slicked back and curling, slightly too long, against his collar, he should have been just another very rich, very well-dressed, above averagely good-looking businessman. But there was something raw and untamed lurking just beneath the urbane, sophisticated exterior—something that made heads swing round and made people falter in their footsteps. Jungle warfare? He couldn’t have chosen a better metaphor.
‘Guess so,’ she told him. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy the fast pace of living in London! You’d go nuts if you were stuck out in the countryside with nothing better to do than laze around watching nature.’
Megan thought how nice it would be just to take time out of the low-level stress that came from being involved with a man when she knew that he would break her heart—just as he had done the first time round. This was what it had been like seven years ago. Fast, furious, sizzling excitement. It had been wild and heady, but it hadn’t been relaxing then and it wasn’t relaxing now. Her only relaxation came from her private daydreams, in which she constructed a happy ending based on nothing more substantial than the fact that he was with her now and it was his conscious choice.
She hadn’t, until right now, even considered the possibility of moving out to the countryside. Melissa had raised the subject and she had replied out of politeness. But, thinking about it, it was beginning to seem more appealing by the second.
She had spent the day on cloud nine, shopping with Alessandro, fighting hard to maintain a cool, detached exterior while her heart had been racing. And just at the moment she was keenly and painfully aware of him next to her, leaning into her so that he could whisper into her ear. His warm breath against her neck made every nerve-ending in her body tingle. Was all of that desirable? Moreover, she seemed to have no control over what he did to her. Her body and her mind seemed to lose the ability to function normally the minute he was around. Was that a good way to be?
‘But me,’ she said, not looking at him and warming to the idea of a life that wasn’t lived in a permanent state of nervous anticipation, ‘I’d love the countryside. I’d love to have a little cottage with clambering roses on a white picket fence, and a milkman delivering milk to the door every day. I could teach at a small village school. Maybe,’ she elaborated wistfully, ‘I would take up knitting.’
Alessandro gave a burst of laughter that had a few eyes turning in their direction. A few, having seen him, lingered a little longer than was necessary.
‘I thought you’d already done the rural school fantasy. And knitting? You?’
‘It’s a possibility!’ Megan snapped in a low, irritated voice.
‘I think your personality might get in the way of such a placid pastime.’ Alessandro smirked, thinking of her dressed in that wisp of red and green, with one impractical red shoe sailing through the air. ‘I’m not sure if a woman who enjoys running around a muddy football pitch would be content to spend two months in front of a television, knitting a scarf. Seven years ago your dream was to go hang-gliding. How does that equate with knitting?’
‘Okay, maybe not knitting,’ she said. ‘Maybe rambling, or…or…’
‘Or…or…bird-watching…or…or…embroidery…or…or…Get a grip, Megan. The picket fence and the clambering roses might sound fine in theory, but in reality you’d be bored stiff. Isn’t that why you came down to London? To escape a serious case of open-field syndrome?’
‘Maybe now that I’ve tried the big-city life I’m ready to get back to my open-field syndrome!’
‘You might just find that’s easier said than done.’
Alessandro didn’t know why he was getting hot under the collar at Megan’s innocent conversation, but it gnawed away at him throughout the whole of the first half of the musical.
He was vaguely aware of dutifully clapping in all the right places—just as he was vaguely aware that the woman next to him was totally absorbed in what was happening on the stage. But he was largely preoccupied with the disturbing suspicion that he wanted to be the one calling all the shots. Was that just his male ego talking? From the lofty heights of someone who was used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question, Alessandro had piously thought that he was not one of those guys who got off on being always in control.
By the time intermission rolled around, he was in the grip of a pretty foul mood, made more foul by Megan’s bubbly chatter and her insistence on getting his thoughts on what he had seen so far. Wasn’t the choreography brilliant? Wasn’t the singing fantastic? Wasn’t that little kid just so adorable?
Alessandro was non-committal as they headed for the bar, where drinks had been pre-ordered.
‘Not too many musicals in the countryside these days,’ was what he heard himself saying. ‘Although probably quite a few barn dances.’
‘What’s it to you whether I bury myself in the countryside to pursue my hobby of knitting and going to barn dances?’ Megan asked tartly.
Ahead of them, the other members of their party had become submerged in the chaos of the bar.
This whole stupid conversation seemed to have become a battle of wills, and Megan wasn’t going to back down.
‘Obviously not much,’ Alessandro drawled darkly. ‘You can bury yourself wherever you want to. I merely felt compelled to point out the drawbacks to your master plan.’
‘And thanks very much for that. But I’m a big girl now. I think I can work out how to live my life without your advice. In fact—’ she furthered her cause for independence ‘—if you’ll make my excuses to everyone, I’m going to join the queue for the Ladies’. I might not be back in time for my glass of wine.’
She wasn’t one hundred per cent sure where the restrooms were, and nor did she really need to go, but she needed to put some distance between herself and Alessandro. This should have been a fun evening. Instead the fun bit was getting lost in an uncomfortable argument about nothing in particular. If, she thought furiously as she battled through the crowds like a fish swimming upstream, he hadn’t wanted to bring her along to the theatre, then he should never have invited her. But he had asked her along and then proceeded to pick a row over her silly, purely hypothetical plan to move out to the country. Just because, she reasoned, he had to be the one whose opinions were always right.
Was she getting on his nerves? Was this his way of showing it?
She reached the restrooms to find the line of people as long as she had expected. Longer. And moving at a snail’s pace. But at least it would give her the chance to get back her cheerful frame of mind, so that she could enjoy the second half of the musical.
/>
She was miles away when a familiar voice said from behind, ‘Megan? Is that you?’
Megan spun around to find Victoria standing right behind her, exquisite in a pale woollen, long-sleeved dress with a string of pearls around her neck. Her hair, for the first time since Megan had met her, fell in a neat, glossy bob to her shoulders.
‘Victoria!’
‘Isn’t this a surprise? Who are you here with?’
The line was shuffling forwards very slowly. ‘I’m with…’ Megan hesitated, guiltily aware that Alessandro’s name might be a depressing reminder to the other woman of her broken engagement. ‘A few…friends. And you? You look tremendous, by the way. And Dominic, I gather, is still head over heels in love with football! I’m so glad about that.’
‘So am I,’ Victoria confided with a warm smile. ‘And I have you to thank for that.’
Megan mumbled something in return.
‘In fact, I have you to thank for a number of things. Look, are you absolutely desperate for the loo? We could just slope off and have a quiet chat before the second half begins. There are a few things I’d rather like to get off my chest.’
Megan swallowed hard and wished herself back to the bar—because arguing with Alessandro suddenly seemed more restful than hearing what Victoria had to say.
‘Of course.’ She resigned herself to the inevitable and followed Victoria, who seemed to know the layout of the theatre a lot better than she did. In fact, they managed to avoid the crowds altogether, and were shown by one of the ushers to a quiet side room just off the stage.
‘Sometimes it’s jolly convenient to have connections,’ Victoria explained apologetically. ‘My uncle is something of a bigwig in the field of theatre.’ She tapped the side of her nose and gave a conspirational smile. ‘A quiet word in the right ear and here we are. Far from the madding crowd.’
‘I’m here with Alessandro!’ Megan blurted out, taking the bull by the horns rather than waiting for the bull to come charging at her.
She walked over to one of the small flowered sofas and stood behind it, her hands resting on the upholstered back.
‘Look, I really am so sorry that things didn’t work out between the two of you, but I want you to know that the—’
‘You’re here with Alessandro? I’m so glad!’
‘You’re…what…?’ Megan asked faintly.
‘So awfully glad.’ Victoria looked at her ruefully. ‘I felt so dreadfully guilty at the way things ended between us.’
‘You felt dreadfully guilty?’ Her mind seemed to be getting a little clogged up, and now she was repeating language she never normally used! But there was a dull pink tinge to Victoria’s face, and she did look very sheepish.
What, Megan wondered, was there for her to feel sheepish about? Alessandro had terminated the relationship, had broken off the engagement. Wasn’t she entitled to feel a little hard done by?
‘Why on earth would you feel guilty, Victoria?’ she asked in genuine puzzlement.
‘I never meant to meet Robbie! And I certainly never meant to—’
Robbie? Megan wondered what Robbie had to do with all of this. She felt as though she was in possession of a jigsaw puzzle, the key pieces of which were missing.
‘Dominic absolutely adores him.’
‘Good.’ Megan tried to work out what was going on. ‘It’s nice,’ she added vaguely, ‘for a boy to have a role model, so to speak….’
‘And I…’ Victoria took her hand in a gesture that Megan suspected was heartfelt rather than customary. ‘I felt so terribly awful about Alessandro…but Robbie…’
Pieces of the jigsaw were beginning to mesh together, and even though the picture wasn’t as yet comprehensive Megan was slowly realising that she didn’t like what she was seeing.
As if to confirm the suspicions forming at the back of her mind, she watched Victoria’s face flush with happiness.
‘I had to break off the engagement,’ she confessed. ‘Or rather the matter was taken out of my hands!’ She laughed ruefully. ‘Freudian slip, I’m afraid. I left my mobile phone at your Christmas party…Actually, I thought I had left it somewhere, put it down, but it turned out to have been in Alessandro’s pocket all the while. He found out the worst possible way that Robbie…’
‘Found out…?’ Megan said in a dazed fashion. Her brain was frantically trying to keep pace with what was being said.
‘Of course I never would have dreamt of doing anything!’ Victoria exclaimed, misinterpreting the whiteness of Megan’s face. ‘But Robbie had been texting me…and I did realise that I found him…well…I was absolutely confounded…but…’
‘So you told Alessandro?’ Megan numbly asked for complete clarification.
‘I had to. I couldn’t possibly continue the relationship when there had been such a sea change, so to speak. You do understand, don’t you?’ Victoria asked anxiously. ‘Of course Alessandro said that he was absolutely fine…’ She smiled. ‘But I can’t tell you how marvellous it is to know that he’s here…that you are with him…You are with him, aren’t you? Darling, I knew there was something between you two…Perhaps in the end this is all a question of fate….’
She glanced at her watch and gave a little squeal of dismay.
‘Robbie’s going to be raging if he gets back to his seat and I’m not there!’ She leapt to her feet. ‘I’ve ordered him to get me an ice cream…if I don’t rescue it, it will either be dripping down his hand or else he will have polished it off! You know men….’
No, Megan thought as she sprinted behind Victoria to find that the crowds had all returned to their seats for the second half of the play. No, she didn’t know men. Not at all. She especially didn’t know Alessandro.
Those little glimmers of hope that had darted in and out of her mind like fireflies, lighting up a future with promises which she knew would never be fulfilled but which had kept her busy with a little luxury wishful thinking, were now extinguished in a matter of seconds.
Alessandro hadn’t broken off his engagement to Victoria because of her. He had been on the receiving end of a woman who had fallen in love with another man and had done the decent thing.
No wonder Robbie had not been in touch! She’d kept thinking that she should get in touch with him, but she had been so preoccupied with Alessandro that she had barely given anything else a second’s thought. He had taken over her daily existence, just as he had seven years previously, even though she had given herself lots of stern lectures about maintaining detachment.
She thought back to the way she had nurtured her hope that this time things would be different between them, and was swamped by a feeling of disgust at her gullibility.
She didn’t like to think how long she would have continued seeing him, weaving little dreams in her head about a perfect life with him. Fortunately Victoria had set her straight on that one.
I’m hurting now, Megan thought as she returned to her seat, forcing down the bitter sting of tears at the back of her throat. But it’s all for the best and time is a great healer.
She could feel Alessandro turn to her in the darkness as she slipped back into her seat next to him, but she kept her head averted.
She didn’t know how she managed to sit through the remainder of the play. The dancing which she had thought was so marvellous in the first half barely distracted her from her angry, humiliated, churning thoughts, and she fidgeted, keen to be rid of the intimacy of sitting next to him.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ Alessandro murmured, conclusively sorting out her restless hands by anchoring his fingers around her wrist.
Megan immediately fell still. Only an hour before and she would have leant against him, hotly and wickedly anticipating another night spent in the same bed as him.
‘Well?’
‘Nothing. I’m just enjoying the play,’ she muttered. After a couple of minutes she managed to extract her hand from his and place it on her lap.
There was a standing ovation for the p
erformers, and while she stood up, she made sure to also be gathering her coat and busying herself with her handbag. The clothes which she had enjoyed buying with him now felt tainted on her.
It wouldn’t take him long to figure out that something wasn’t right. Alessandro was nothing if not adept at sensing nuance. But luckily he had no time to question her because he was caught up in the melee of everyone leaving the theatre. A meal out afterwards had been planned. There was no way on earth that Megan was going to go along.
As soon as they exited the theatre she turned to the assembled group and said, with an apologetic smile, ‘I feel awful about doing this, but I’m going to have to cry off tonight’s meal, I’m afraid.’ She was aware of Alessandro, straight ahead of her and sandwiched between two of the men, looking at her sharply through narrowed eyes. ‘Female problems.’ She turned to Melissa who glowed with sympathy.
Female problems encompassed a gamut of irrefutable excuses, not one of which any man would ever question. It was an accepted fact that the mere mention of female problems sent most men diving for cover.
‘Poor thing.’ Alessandro moved forwards and took her arm in what could loosely be called a vice grip. ‘And not a word to me about them. Such a martyr. But, darling, I couldn’t possibly allow you to go back on your own when you’re struggling with female problems.’ He flashed his own apologetic smile all round. ‘If you will excuse me? I must cut short this evening which has been so thoroughly enjoyable.’
‘There’s no need, Alessandro!’ Her voice sounded high-pitched and panicked, and she toned it down with a belated smile. ‘I just need to have an early night.’
‘And I will make sure that you are safely delivered back to your bed.’
‘How gallant,’ one of the women said, before looking at her own portly husband with an indulgent grin. ‘You need to take some lessons from Alessandro, Jamie. Remind me a bit that chivalry isn’t dead.’ She patted Megan kindly on her arm. ‘Such a nuisance for you, my dear, but just so long as you’ve enjoyed the play. Stunning, wasn’t it?’
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