“What?”
“He has a birthmark on his butt cheek that looks like a strawberry.”
“Really?”
“Huge, you can’t miss it. He said his father has one, too, in exactly the same place. How weird is that?”
“Weird.” She tried to lift her voice, but she felt leaden.
“You sound like you should go back to bed.”
“I think I might.”
“Don’t even bother trying to write today. You know what you need?”
“Tell me.”
“Lunch with the girls. Kate’s already called, suffering from anticlimax. Alessandro was up being sick in the night, so poor Letizia barely got a wink. Scarlet has declared that she is spending all day in bed, but the rest of us could do with a Bellini and a gossip.”
“And an early night.”
“You’re sounding like me.”
Angelica walked slowly up the road, eyes on the pavement, hands in pockets. There was a cold wind, and heavy clouds threatened rain. She wondered what Jack was doing, whether he was at the airport. Perhaps he was already in the air. Their snatched moments the night before had only made things worse. Instead of fizzing with excitement, she felt flat and abandoned. Life without Jack lay ahead, bleak and long, like the dead of winter. Before she had known him she had been content with her lot. Now she found it lacking; she had tasted the forbidden fruit and found her regular diet bland by comparison.
She reached the house and put her key in the lock. Sunny stood in the hallway all wound up like a clockwork doll. “Is everything all right?” Angelica asked, bewildered. The air smelled of summer.
“A man came round,” Sunny explained.
“What man?”
“A man with a van.” She pointed into the dining room. “He brought these.” Angelica peered into the room and her jaw dropped in amazement. The entire room was filled with red roses. She could barely discern where the table was for the vases of flowers. “Was there a note?”
Sunny shook her head. “Nothing. He just brought them in and left.”
She felt her telephone vibrate in her handbag. “It’s okay, Sunny. I think I know who they’re from.”
I will never forget last night. Your loving Dog. I’m afraid the porch is no longer in my vision.
Angelica blushed. “Oh, Sunny. What am I to do with all these flowers?”
“We’ll place them through the house.”
What will Olivier think? “I’ll take three with me to lunch. Put the rest wherever there’s a space. My godfather is full of surprises.” Why would my godfather give me flowers? And so many? Think! Sunny began to take vases of blooms upstairs while Angelica called Jack.
The sound of his voice renewed the intimacy between them, and she was transported back to the night before. She could hear the metallic noise of the airport in the background; he was already on his way.
“You’re very naughty, filling my house with roses,” she said tenderly.
“I’m glad you got them.”
“The dining room is filled with them!”
“I won’t get you into trouble, I hope.”
“He won’t even notice. He’s rather distracted by work at the moment. How did you get them to me so fast?”
“I bribed a friend to go to the flower market and buy as many as he could carry in his van.”
“That’s very resourceful.”
“He owed me one.”
“Must have been something big to get up that early in the morning.”
“It was.” He paused. “I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”
“I’m convinced.” Love was like a game of snakes and ladders: one moment you’re sliding down a snake, only to find a ladder to carry you back up to great heights.
“I’ll never forget our night in the taxi.”
“It wasn’t what I had in mind.”
“Nor me. I was going to be good.”
“I’m glad you weren’t.”
“So am I. I’ll take that memory back home with me, so on lonely nights I can replay it over and over and remember the beautiful English girl I’ve left in London.”
“I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“I wish you could come with me.”
“Impossible.”
“I know. Fools’ dreams. You get writing your book now.”
“I don’t know what to write about.”
“Of course you do. Write about us.”
“I don’t write adult fiction.”
“Now is the perfect time to start. You said you wanted to do something different.”
“I don’t like unhappy endings.”
“Then give us a happy ending.”