shot me a startled look, then laughed. “My sisters play games. I was told that you were coming to visit Yvette in the afternoon. Can you forgive me?” His hand reached across the linen tablecloth to mine.
“Not your fault.” I clasped his hand and squeezed back. Unlike my hand, which had become toughened from too much outdoor work, his was soft and smooth. His fingers, like his physique, slender and elegant.
“You should’ve been a musician,” I said. “You have the hands.”
He swirled the straw-coloured wine in his glass and laughed again. “You know my secret. Please do not tell my father. It is bad enough that I ran off to the city to become a financier. If he knew I wanted to be a musician, he would make the priest say a Requiem Mass for me.”
“Seriously?”
“I exaggerate a little, but Papa would be happier if I am a farmer like him.”
“But, he doesn’t seem to hesitate accepting your money.”
He raised his eyebrows in puzzlement. “I do not understand.”
“I’m talking about the modern kitchen and that entertainment centre. I think you bought those.”
“The kitchen, yes. I bought it for Yvette.”
What a generous brother, I thought. Which was more than I could say about the father.
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