At five minutes past eight it rang. She could see from the DOP in the display screen that it was Jack. Her belly lurched with guilty pleasure. “Hello,” she said in a soft voice.
“I miss you,” he replied with a sigh.
“I miss you, too.”
“That makes me feel a lot better.”
“What does DWOP stand for?”
He chuckled. “Dog Well off Porch.”
“Dog Soon to Be Back on Porch,” she replied wryly.
“I don’t like to think of going home without you.”
“I’m a little big for your suitcase.”
“I’d buy one big enough if you said you’d come.”
“It’s not going to happen, Jack.”
“I’d love to show you Rosenbosch. It’s so beautiful at this time of year. It’s spring. Everything’s so fresh and new. I’d take you riding across the veld, into the mist on the hills, and we’d sit at the top, and, once the mist had lifted, I’d show you the whole valley. It would take your breath away.”
“It already has.”
“Do you ride?”
“I grew up in the country and was obsessed with ponies.”
“Good. Then I have just the horse for you. A chestnut so sweet natured you could gallop at full speed and never fear falling off or being run away with.”
“I’d love that. I haven’t felt the wind in my hair for years.”
“Then let me. Make up an excuse. I’ll organize your ticket.”
“How would you explain that to your wife?”
“You’re my friend.”
“She’d be a fool if she believed that, and I don’t think she is a fool.”
“She’s not, but she’s tolerant.”
“She really wouldn’t mind if I pitched up to stay?”
He hesitated a moment. “I really don’t think she would. Look, I would behave myself. I respect her a great deal. I just want you near.”
“There would have to be a very good reason for Olivier to let me go. There are practicalities you haven’t even considered. I don’t have a nanny. Who’d pick up the children every day? It’s not as easy for me to leave as it is for you. My children have homework every evening, and, unless Olivier gets sacked, which I hope he doesn’t, I’d have to hire someone to cover for me, and Olivier hates having strangers in the house.”
“Then it’s really impossible.” His voice sounded so low she felt a stab of pity.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” There was a pause. She could hear his breathing down the line. Then his tone lifted. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Kate’s giving her friend Art a birthday party.”
“You have to go?”
“Yes, I do.”
“You can’t cancel?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Tell them you’re sick and come and have dinner with me.”
“I couldn’t.”
“Which part couldn’t you do?”
“Both, Jack. I couldn’t lie to my friends, and I couldn’t have dinner with you. It would be folly.”
There was a pause while he devised a plan. “Then let’s meet after the party.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Look, I leave on Friday.”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“What about Friday morning? We can walk around the park again.”
“We got away with it once. I can’t do it again.”
“I have to see you, Sage. What’s the harm in two friends meeting for the last time?”
At that moment she heard the front door slam. She sat up with a start. “Oh Lord, I think Olivier’s home.”
“Text me. I’ll meet you tomorrow night. You can leave the party early. We can go someplace, a bar . . .”
“It’s risky.”
“I know.”
“If I get caught . . .”
“London’s a big city.”
“You’d be surprised.” She heard Olivier’s footsteps on the stairs. “Got to go,” she hissed urgently. She heard him hang up without saying good-bye, and said loudly for Olivier’s benefit, “Better go, Mum, Olivier’s home.”
He came in looking moody, tossed his jacket onto a chair, and loosened his tie. She got off the bed.
“What’s for supper?” he asked.
“I thought we could order in something. What would you like?”
“A Chinese. Ring Mr. Wing now, I’m ravenous.”
“Fancy a glass of wine? I do.”
“Yes, be an angel and bring it up here, will you? I’ve had one hell of a day. It’s very tough.” He sighed heavily. “I hope you’re writing your book, Angelica. We might need your earnings if I’m laid off.”