“I’ve never been in love, not as you describe—desperately, deliriously, and overwhelmingly in love. I’m still holding out for that.”
“You’ve had girlfriends, surely?”
“Of course. But there’s an ocean of difference between a girlfriend and someone you can’t live without.”
Her eyes glittered again. “I know what that’s like.” She bit her bottom lip. “I feel so empty, David.”
“We all do.”
“It was so sudden. I keep expecting George to call me, but he never will. I thought I had a future, but he took it with him, and now I’ll never get it back. But you know what haunts me the most? The last time we spoke was in . . .” She seemed to swallow the word, as if it was too painful to utter.
“Was in . . . ?”
She sighed in defeat and dropped her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I never said good-bye.”
Propelled by her stricken face, David moved to the chair beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. She dropped her head onto his chest and cried. David pulled her close, savoring the vanilla scent in her hair and the feeling of her body against his. He closed his eyes and felt his own heart slump with unexpressed grief. Unlike Phaedra, he found that tears didn’t come so easily; they seemed to get stuck at the top of his throat, where the muscles contracted and ached from the effort of withholding.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered after a while. “I’m just so devastated. I found him, then lost him.”
“Come and stay at Fairfield, Phaedra,” he pleaded. “You’ll find comfort in his family.”
“I can’t.”
“I insist.”
“You know nothing about me. I’m a stranger. I can’t impose.”
“I hardly think you’re going to murder us all in the night.”
She sniffed. “Of course not. But still, I don’t feel comfortable accepting hospitality from your mother.”
“She wants you to come.”
“No, I’ve created enough trouble. I should really go back to Paris.”
“Please. Don’t run away. We’ve only just discovered you. Mother wants to get to know you. You’re family. My father would like to think of you down at Fairfield. It’s where you belong.”
There was a long silence. Phaedra had never belonged anywhere. The thought of having a family was very seductive. Perhaps Paris could wait. One weekend wouldn’t hurt. She lifted her head. “If you promise you’ll look after me.”
“Of course I will.”
“Okay, I’ll come.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then, noticing the damp patch on David’s shirt, attempted to wipe that, too. “Oh dear, looks like I’ve cried all over your shirt.”
“It’s only a shirt.”
“I can dry it with my hair dryer.” She laughed at the expression on David’s face. “Or not.”
“What do you take me for? As if I care about a damp patch on my shirt.” They both laughed. “It’ll be dry before I get home, so it won’t offend Rufus.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s past nine-thirty, and I said I’d kick you out.”
“No need. I’ll kick myself out. Must get back to my roommate.”
She stood in the doorway as he stepped out onto the pavement. “I’ve had a good time tonight. You really cheered me up,” she said.
“I’m not sure I cheered you up,” he replied, looking at her tearstained face.
“Oh, you did. No doubt about that. It’s good to talk about George with someone who knew him.”
“I’ll see you Friday.” He put his hand on the small of her back and bent down to kiss her cheek. It was still damp.
“Friday it is,” she replied. “Don’t forget to look after me.”
She watched him walk beneath the streetlamps to his muddy car. He turned and waved before climbing inside. She remained in the doorframe as he pulled out and motored slowly down the street. So she was about to be embraced by George’s family, after all. She felt as wretched as a repentant thief.
Later, as she climbed into bed, her mobile telephone rang on the bedside table. She reached over and picked it up. She saw Julius Beecher’s name displayed in the window. Reluctantly, she answered it.
“So how did it go?” he asked.
6
The following morning David strode across the fields with Rufus, his buoyant spirits giving his step a lively bounce. The sky was pale, a few pink clouds wafting across it, and the sun was already warm upon his face. He smiled, because today the thought of Phaedra coming to stay rendered everything more beautiful. Crops emerged through the earth, their green heads reaching up towards the light. Small birds danced and squabbled in the air, and a wide-winged buzzard hovered high above in search of prey. He took pleasure in the emerging buds in the hedgerows and the green shoots of bluebells yet to flower in the woods. Rufus disappeared into the undergrowth, where the curly green tentacles of bracken were already beginning to unfurl. Suddenly, the daily routine of his farming life didn’t seem ordinary at all, but glorious. The trees reached out to embrace him, the sun beamed down to envelop him, and the soft wind carried the scent of fertility and regeneration. His chest expanded with the sensual delight of it all.