Encounters

She got up an hour early the next day to dress with special care and put on some make up, and one look at his face told her that there had been no point. His love for her, if that was what it had been, had gone. Rising from her desk she picked up her bag and followed him out into the street.

‘I wanted to tell you myself that I’m getting married.’ He said it at once, before they had even ordered.

‘I’m glad for you.’

She realized as she said it that she meant it. For herself she was desolate, but the shining happiness she had seen on his face was so special she could not grudge him. Not that. That was what love did to a man, or a woman. ‘To Celia, I take it?’

He nodded and grinned. ‘So you did know. Afterwards I was so angry with myself. I thought perhaps I’d misled you. I couldn’t have borne it if I’d hurt you, Annette.’ His hand was on hers on the table. ‘You’re very special to me, you know. You always will be.’

‘And you to me, Duncan.’ She drew her hand away gently. Had he really never guessed how much she loved him? Had he really believed they were both just passing the time? She looked up at his face and then sadly she looked away.

They saw each other twice more after that. Once by accident in the foyer of the office building and once for coffee in the lunch hour two weeks before his wedding. He had a brown paper parcel under his arm.

‘This is for you. From Celia and me. A wedding present for you.’

It was an exquisite sweater in soft chocolate-coloured wool.

She did not tell him she had given Robert back his ring. If you did not love someone with the all-consuming joy with which Duncan loved his Celia, there could be no future. She was sure of that.

She had not heard from Duncan again for two years. Then had come the letter asking her to be godmother to his first child.

At first she was angry; then she cried. Then she laughed, and after writing two indignant letters of refusal tore them up and rang the farm. Duncan answered.

‘Are you serious?’ she asked.

‘Perfectly. I want my daughter to grow up with humour and understanding. Who better to teach it to her than you?’

Was that really the way she had reacted?

‘What happened to Robert?’ he asked after a pause.

‘No sense of humour and no understanding!’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘So am I.’

Behind the half drawn curtains the christening party was in full swing. But in the garden it was very quiet. Rick was watching her.

‘You’re telling the story against yourself,’ he said gently. ‘I think Duncan was a bastard.’

She shook her head. ‘When you think about it, he displayed all the virtues. It just happens they were not directed at me.’ She shivered suddenly. ‘Shall we go back inside. I expect they’re going to cut the cake or whatever they do at christenings. Did you go to their wedding?’

He shook his head, ‘Did you?’

‘I wasn’t asked.’

Suddenly Rick laughed. ‘Do you know who I am?’

‘No. Should I?’

‘I’m the man who asked Celia to marry him in Switzerland. And she nearly said yes. The only reason she didn’t was this mysterious man she’d left in England who, she said, would wait for her no matter what. I told her she was mad.’ He took Annette’s hand and she found herself enjoying his warm grasp. ‘So we’re in the same boat, you and I. Rejected lovers.’

He grinned, looking anything but sad about it and suddenly she found herself laughing with him. ‘You mean if I’d stayed with Duncan and fought, you’d have married Celia? She wouldn’t have been left alone to fade away after all?’

That’s right.’

Annette was speechless for a moment. ‘But she does love Duncan?’ she asked hesitantly, after a long pause.

‘Oh yes, she loves him again now.’

‘And are you still sorry you lost her?’ She looked at him squarely. He was staring up the steps towards the house, his expression enigmatic, his eyes narrowed in the dusk.

Slowly he shook his head. ‘Not in the least. They deserve each other. After all, theirs is the classic love story. The happy ending against all odds.’ He was still holding her hand as he led the way back into the house.

‘And we were the odds?’

‘I’d say so, wouldn’t you?’ He turned and winked at her as they slipped into the crowded room. Surreptitiously she looked at Duncan. He had grown stouter in the last two years and his hair was already thinning slightly. Perhaps, after all, she had not been as much in love with him as she had thought. She glanced up at Rick and found he was watching her.

‘Do you think being godparents was the consolation prize?’ she asked solemnly.

‘It is often the custom, I believe.’ He took two glasses of champagne from a tray and handed her one. ‘Let’s drink to Natasha Anne who introduced us!’

The Valentine’s Day Plot (#ulink_04eac93b-f97d-5cd3-80bb-ece2ffb47349)

Of course it had to be a bouquet of flowers for St Valentine’s Day. I chose them carefully, one by one, in the florist. Not less than 50p a bloom. She had always liked pink so those were the ones I selected. ‘Would you like them gift-wrapped, Sir?’ the girl in the shop asked, simpering, but I shook my head. That aspect of things I would deal with myself.

When I had finished with them I must admit they looked good. I tied an enormous bow of red satin ribbon round the bottom and stood back to admire the finished article. There was no way of seeing the little glass bottle deep amongst the glossy leaves until the bouquet was unwrapped. The bottle said Dior. I tied it in with thread to make sure it was secure; I didn’t want it breaking and spoiling my surprise.

I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist opening it and smelling it to make sure. And that, I confidently expected, would be the last inquisitive thing the lady ever did. It had after all been her nosiness which led to her finding out about me and to her lucrative career, at my expense, in blackmail. It’s strange how some women take to that particular hobby.

I knew delivering the flowers would be a problem and I still hadn’t decided at breakfast exactly how to do it. Obviously I couldn’t do it myself. One sight of me and she would suspect something.

Carefully I loaded the flowers into my car, propping them on the seat beside me and drove to The Avenue, which was just two streets away from her place. Then, pulling in to the side of the road, I sat and thought.

It was so easy of course, in the end. Two little boys came down the road, neat in identical grey shorts and blazer.

‘Hey fellas!’ I wound down the window. They stopped and looked at me suspiciously. I winked. ‘Want to earn yourselves a pound on the way to school?’ They looked at each other and hesitated. ‘Each,’ I added; that’s inflation for you! ‘Listen; it’s not difficult.’ I beckoned them close and lowered my voice conspiratorially. ‘It’s St Valentine’s Day, right?’ One of them smirked, and the other raised an eyebrow with horribly adult cynicism. I ignored it. ‘I want you to take these flowers round the corner and give them to a lady. That’s all. No problem?’

No problem. They took the flowers, listened politely to my instructions and to my threats of what would happen if they dumped the flowers and ran, and exchanged giggling glances when I gave them the address. Then they pocketed their money.

I sat back and watched them round the corner. They were just about young enough, I reckoned, to do as I asked with no lip. When they were out of sight I drove as fast as I could go to the office.

It was a pretty ordinary sort of day really, considering. I wondered when I would hear what had happened. I doubted if it would be on the evening news. It depended when that stuffy husband of hers came home and found her. I caught myself smiling quietly. After what she had done to me, the blackmailing interfering beautiful bitch, she deserved everything she was going to get. I glanced at my watch. Perhaps it was already over.

There was a lot of work to get through that day, so I ordered a sandwich lunch. When the phone rang I had just reached for my can of beer.

The strange thing was I didn’t recognize her voice at first. Then she said, ‘Thank you for the flowers, David.’ Then I knew. She went on, sarcastically I thought, ‘It was such a touching thought. Really the last thing I expected from you. You obviously chose them with such care.’