it. I didn’t think your feelings would get that much involved.’
‘You treated me as something that had no feelings at all,’ he said harshly. ‘But I didn’t stick to the script, did I? I fell deeply in love with you and wanted to marry you.’
Suddenly he began to laugh, but not with amusement. It had a bitter sound. ‘Oh, boy! What a joke! How you must have loved that one!’
‘I swear you’re wrong. Carlo, listen to me. I love you more than I ever thought I could love any man, and I’ve tried to believe it’s possible for things to work out for us. Now I know they can’t.’
‘I’ve told you I don’t give a damn about your age. It doesn’t matter.’
‘But it’ll matter later. That seven years is going to stretch. I’ll be forty-five while you’re still in your thirties. Then fifty. Fifty is a big milestone, and I’ll pass it years before you do. You’ll be in your prime and I’ll be having face-lifts and injections.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ he said at once. ‘I want you as you are.’
‘Darling, when I’m fifty we won’t be together—’
‘Stop that talk. In a hundred years we’ll still be together.’
One minute they were quarrelling, the next he was laying out their future as though nothing had happened. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. His refusal to see the barrier between them made her love him more, but the effort of making him understand tore her apart.
‘Maybe we will be together longer than I thought,’ she conceded. ‘I’m not saying we should separate immediately—’
‘Just when the programme’s complete. I’ll have my uses until then.’
‘No, it can be as long as you like. I won’t marry you, but I’ll live with you.’
‘How?’ he demanded. ‘When the series is over we’ll be working in different countries. Or are you planning to give up your career and follow me about the world?’
‘I can’t do that, but—’
‘Or am I supposed to abandon my career and live in your shadow?’
‘Of course not. But we could still find ways to be together as often as we can manage.’
‘A weekend here, a weekend there,’ he said bitingly. ‘Until one day I turn up a day early and you won’t look up from your computer because I don’t fit into the schedule—’
‘Or the day I arrive early and find you with some sexy little thing who’s got all the youth I no longer have—’
‘Don’t say any more!’
‘Why not?’ she cried. ‘You’re bound to face the truth one day. Why not now? It’ll happen, and I won’t blame you because it’ll be right and natural. Can’t you see that that’s the only way we can love each other—to be ready to let go when the time comes?’
‘And if I don’t want to let go?’ he demanded fiercely.
‘Then we’ll stay together as long as you want.’
‘You’re so sure I’ll be the one to break us up, that I’ll betray you,’ he raged. ‘You think my love is worth so much less than yours?’
‘No, I’ve never thought that. But those seven years matter. I know you don’t think so now, but one day you’ll see it.’
‘You mean, give me enough time and I’ll learn to agree with you?’ he said, with a touch of a sneer.
‘When you see me getting old before you, getting lined before you, losing my strength while you still have all yours—then—’
‘Then what?’
She forced herself to say it.
‘Then you’ll realise what a mistake you’ve made. But there’ll still be time to escape.’
‘Your opinion of me is really down there in the dust, isn’t it?’ he asked quietly. ‘All this time I thought we loved each other. But you were humouring me, treating me like a child to be indulged.’
She tried to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come. Dreadful as it sounded, might this be true, even a little? She’d taken it on herself to make all the decisions in their relationship, without telling him.
On the first day she’d concealed her real purpose in being there, and then she’d concealed her age, always telling herself that she was doing it ‘for the best’. Wasn’t that what mothers did? Perhaps she’d had no right?
Suddenly he began to speak more gently.
‘Listen to me, Della. I’m asking for more than your love. I want everything about you—the whole of your heart and mind and your body—for the rest of your life. I want to know that you trust me enough to commit to me, instead of arranging things for an easy escape.’
‘An escape for you—’
Her answer roused his anger again.
‘Oh, no—that’s the gloss you’ve put on it, but it’s your pride you’re protecting. If I prove as shabby as your expectations—well, you’ve arranged it that way, haven’t you?’
‘I’m only leaving the door open for you—’
‘No, you’re practically pushing me through it,’ he raged. ‘It looks generous, but it’s actually a form of control. You say how long we’ll last, you arrange the conditions of the break-up—my God, you’ve even written the scene! You come back suddenly and find me in the arms of a luscious beauty. What then, Della? Do I stutter something like, You weren’t meant to find out this way?’
‘Don’t,’ she whispered.
‘Or how about, Della, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you. Yes, I think that would be better. Or haven’t you written my lines yet?’
He drew a long, shaky breath before continuing.
‘But our love—or what I thought of as our love—isn’t some damned programme you’re planning, where you can cut and edit and rewrite until it’s just what you want.’
She was silent, stricken to the heart by this judgement—so cruel, yet so alarmingly near the nerve.
He came close and laid his hands on her shoulders. He was in command of himself now.
‘I meant what I said, Della. It has to be marriage and total commitment—or nothing. I’m not asking you to give up your career. Just relocate. You can produce your programmes from here as well as London. But I want you for my wife—not a glorified girlfriend with an escape clause, who treats me like an idiot. I want to know you trust me to be a husband, not an inferior to be guarded against because he’s bound to let you down.’
‘That’s
