o’clock at my house. Yes?’
‘OK,’ said Anna wearily.
* * *
The concert was wonderful. In fact, the whole evening was magical. It was for Anna the turning point in her recovery from her broken heart. Not once during the Mozart evening did she give a single thought to Liam.
She settled down in her seat and gave herself up completely to the experience. As the lights were raised at the end of the concert and the hall resounded with applause, applause that seemed never-ending, she felt as if she’d been reborn and was now able to start her emotional life once again. The heartwrenching misery of the past weeks had vanished— thanks to Mozart. And thanks to Jack, too, she admitted. She came across him a lot at work—they always seemed to bump into each other at some point during the day. She found herself looking forward to catching a glimpse of him, however fleeting.
After the concert they went to a nearby Italian restaurant for a meal.
Anna chose agnello con fagioli—braised lamb with cannelini beans—and a green salad.
‘Sounds good,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll have the same.’
Sitting across the table from him, she was able to study him closely in a way she’d never previously done. His hair was very thick and vital-looking, even though it was clipped quite short. He was wearing a dark grey suit and the formality of it suited him. He was the kind of man, she judged, who’d look good in anything. Or nothing. As the thought entered her head she began, briefly, to fantasise about him naked. She felt herself colouring and banished the image from her mind.
‘How’s Saskia?’ she asked.
‘Fine,’ Jack replied. ‘She brought a picture home from nursery school today. One that she’d painted herself. It was of me, she said.’
‘Is it a good likeness?’ Anna smiled, imagining how the picture would look—probably a large, round head and stick-like arms and legs—the kind of paintings that three-year-olds did when trying to draw their parents. Rebecca and Jennifer used to have similar pictures stuck up all over their kitchen walls.
‘I think it’s a pretty good likeness, actually,’ said Jack. ‘You’ll have to tell me what you think of it when you see it.’
Anna looked away. How was she going to handle this developing relationship? For a start, did she want it to develop into anything at all? If she wasn’t careful she would get swept along and before she knew it she and Jack would be an item. She shivered slightly at the thought. She just wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted.
They were halfway through their meal when he said, ‘So who is he, this man who hurt you?’
Anna was taken aback. She had never mentioned Liam to Jack.
‘What makes you think that?’ she asked, giving nothing away.
He reached out and stroked the back of her hand with his long fingers. ‘I don’t need to be told. You’ve got it written all over your face. You look like a woman who’s been hurt…emotionally. Am I right?’
She stared at him blankly. That evening, for the first time, she’d managed to put all thoughts of Liam out of her mind. Why did Jack have to start talking about him? What business was it of his?
When she didn’t reply he continued stroking her hand, gently. He wrapped his fingers around hers, his eyes never leaving her face.
‘He must be crazy, that’s all I can say.’
She looked at him unblinkingly. Then she said, ‘Shall we have the cassata for dessert?’
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