“Sadly, we’re not yet acquainted. Still, the house was on for three million, and I got it for two point seven-five. Bargain, considering the location and the size of it.”
“You live there all alone?”
He looked at her steadily. “At the moment, yes. I go down at weekends. One day I hope to marry and fill it with kids. It’s got a tennis court and a pool. Great for children.”
“Sounds ideal.”
“I’m a good catch, you know, Phaedra. I can offer a woman a comfortable life.”
“I’m sure you can.”
He watched her take another sip of wine. “I’m glad you’re relaxing tonight. You’ve been tense lately.”
“Have I?”
“Yes, but it’s okay. I understand. Let me get a waiter, I’m ready to eat.” He clicked his fingers.
Phaedra chose from the menu, and Julius ordered for her. The zucchini fritti were placed in the middle of the table, and Phaedra tucked in hungrily. Julius helped himself to a handful and added a heap of salt. He watched her eat. He liked a woman with a hearty appetite; it meant she was hearty in bed, too. Women who picked at their food picked at life. He couldn’t bear skinny women who ate only lettuce.
Phaedra ate properly and enjoyed it: now that was a woman worthy of his admiration. He liked her tumbling curly hair and her thick golden skin and pink cheeks. She looked wholesome, as if she’d been conceived in a haystack. Yet she had a mischievous curl to her lips when she smiled, which he found encouraging. Despite her angelic appearance, he imagined she was capable of all sorts of naughtiness. And now she was a rich woman, too. She had it all.
“Tell me, have they given you the Frampton Sapphires yet?”
Phaedra finished her mouthful, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “I accepted them, but I gave them to David to look after.”
“You did what?” Julius looked horrified.
“They’re not mine, Julius. Not really. You know that.”
“Of course they’re yours.”
“Look, I can’t just turn up and take a suite of sapphires that’s been in the family for generations. It’s not right.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. George wanted you to have them.”
“On a whim. He might have changed his mind further down the line.” She lowered her eyes. “In fact, I know he would.”
“You know nothing of the sort. I knew George far better than you, don’t forget. I was privy to his deepest thoughts. I know how he felt about you. He didn’t change his will on a whim, as you suggest. Sure, he felt guilty; he should have come clean, but he gave them to you to prove that his love was there to stay.”
“Don’t, Julius. I can’t bear to talk about it anymore.”
“You deserve those jewels even if you never wear them. You will hand them down to your children. Think of the inheritance.” His stare was bullying. “Think of your children.”
The conversation was halted by the waiters bringing their first course. Phaedra gulped her wine and took the opportunity to change the subject. She didn’t like discussing George with Julius. It made her feel beleaguered, as if she were complicit in a crime she had no wish to be part of. So she asked him about himself, and he was content to rattle on about his success and to share his opinions without noticing her disinterest.
She thought of David and wished she were back in the secure embrace of Fairfield. Suddenly, Julius represented everything that was distasteful about the city. He was full of greed, materialism, and self-interest. She didn’t imagine he had ever walked around his gardens in Gloucestershire and admired the flowers for their simple beauty. For Julius everything was about worth. The flowers were appreciated only for the value they added to the property as a whole. She began to wonder whether he was interested in her only because of the money she had inherited. Why else would he go on about the Frampton Sapphires? Surely anyone with Julius’s knowledge would encourage her to do the right thing and give them back? She stared at him with new eyes. He wasn’t advising her for her own good, but for his. She felt an unpleasant sensation creep over her body as she suddenly realized his intention.
Julius ordered coffee to prolong the evening. Phaedra longed to go home and close the door, leaving Julius safely on the other side. She watched him unwrap an Amaretti biscuit. “Have you seen one of these go up in flames?” he asked. She shook her head. He summoned a waiter with a brisk click of his fingers and asked for a box of matches.
Assuming the matches were for cigarettes, the waiter flushed and began to explain. Julius growled at him impatiently. “They’re not for cigarettes, you fool. I’m going to impress my lady friend here with a trick.”