‘An odd way of putting it.’
‘You think? I find people’s weak spots, their vulnerabilities, are always the most interesting things about them. And the most useful.’ As Sarah stretched to pick up a sandwich, her jacket fell away a little to reveal a glimpse of soft, curving breast, and Anthony felt a little jolt of lust at the recollection of times spent in bed with her.
She looked and caught his swift, straying glance. ‘What are you thinking about?’ she asked, knowing perfectly well.
‘Old times,’ said Anthony.
Sarah eyed him speculatively. Anthony had always been famously and rather sweetly vulnerable where the opposite sex was concerned. It was Sarah’s guess that he now considered himself a seasoned man of the world. Perhaps he even thought of himself as being in the same league as Leo, whom he so admired, capable of picking up and dropping lovers without a second thought. Very few belonged to that special breed of people. She and Leo did. Anthony never would.
‘Old times as in – us?’
Sarah’s assessment of Anthony was more or less accurate. He had been disappointed and hurt by love too often, and now maintained a kind of emotional veneer, a pretence at invulnerability. Deep down, he was as susceptible as ever, longing for love, for some special person, though he would have denied this even to himself.
‘I wouldn’t say there was ever an “us”,’ replied Anthony. He leant closer to her, enjoying her subtle perfume. ‘We were both only ever after the same thing.’
‘Love?’ She spoke the word lightly, her eyes fixed on his face. She did enjoy this kind of game. Poor old Anthony, he really thought he knew where it was going, too.
‘Was that ever particularly important to you? No, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.’
‘Mmm, indeed. You sound like you’re still interested.’
Anthony felt strangely and pleasantly light-headed. Half an hour ago he’d been discussing the finer points of jurisdiction, and now – this. It brought home to him that his life right now was lacking in excitement and spontaneity. He had a sudden memory of sitting in some bar with Sarah years ago, when he’d first known her, and kissing her without warning. He wanted to do that now. She’d always had such a lethal effect on him. Even though he hadn’t been in love with her, or romantically involved in any sense, she’d been able to manipulate him through sheer sexuality. This time, things were different. If anything was going to happen – and she clearly wanted it to – he would be the one in control. He’d show her this was a game he could play just as well.
‘I could be.’
‘Nice to see you taking the initiative for a change. If that’s what you’re doing.’
‘So – what are we talking about here?’ He glanced around. They were pretty much out of sight of the rest of the wine bar.
‘You tell me.’ She leant in closer. ‘You’re the one making the running.’
His glance rested on her slightly parted lips. Unable to resist, he put his fingers lightly beneath her chin, and leant to kiss her. But Sarah drew back, pushing his hand gently away and smiling.
‘I think you’ve failed to notice something.’ She held up her left hand, and Anthony saw the flash of a diamond.
He managed to laugh. ‘Congratulations. Nicely concealed.’
‘It was there all the time, only your attention happened to be elsewhere.’
‘Who’s the lucky – or possibly unlucky – guy?’
Sarah twisted the ring on her finger, letting it catch the light. ‘How ungallant of you. His name’s Toby Kittering, and he’s an investment banker.’
‘Right.’
Sarah sighed. ‘Oh, Anthony. You haven’t changed. You’re still so – what’s the word? So tractable. Here – have the last sandwich.’ She pushed the plate towards him. ‘I have to go.’ She stood up, picking up her folder. ‘It was fun catching up. Give my love to everyone at Caper Court. Especially Leo. Bye.’
Anthony sat for a few minutes after Sarah had gone, feeling rather stupid. He was annoyed with himself for letting that happen. Presumably she had been trying to prove that he was easy, that he was predictable. It wasn’t the way he liked to think of himself. But there was a basis of truth in it. He sat there, his mind wandering from the particularity of Sarah’s put-down to the generalities of his life. Everything about it was predictable. What did it consist of, except for getting up, going to work, seeing the same faces every day? Even his social life was centred upon a largely unvarying, safe group of friends. The last couple of girlfriends he’d had seemed to have been cut from the same template – half-hearted career girls from nice, middle-class backgrounds waiting for the right man to come along so that they could get married and have babies. They had made him feel like a fraud, a lot of the time. His own dysfunctional upbringing, with its chronic lack of money, hadn’t equipped him to deal with their expectations. He lived and worked in a world where most people seemed to have been to public school and Oxbridge, and had spent eight years working to fit in. Most of the time he succeeded, but there were also times when he wondered what he was doing there.