ANNA

April 2018 One Month Earlier

SITTING ON THE VICTORIA LINE, ANNA TRIED HARD TO concentrate on her book. It was Saturday and Kai had gone to Ben’s parents for the entire weekend, she was all dolled up and on her way to meet Douglas. It was a real date. She gave up on the novel, and discreetly studied the other passengers. A man, younger than her, caught her eye and she sensed a spark of interest, but he got off at the next stop. Even so, that tiny connection made her bloom. Anna wondered what Grace would think if she knew who she was meeting. She had given Anna a bunch of yellow tulips to thank her for helping her out that time. It was a sweet gesture, but it didn’t give Anna any pleasure. If they had been true friends, gifts wouldn’t change hands; it would be assumed that they were there for each other. But it was a beginning, and she mustn’t get neurotic. It would happen. She would get to Nick, and through Nick to Tim. Those two owed her. Between them, they had stolen the last precious years of her childhood. They had betrayed her.

Thirty-three years old. She felt a thrum of panic. What if?

What if she falls for Douglas and he doesn’t fall for her?

What if he has someone? No one’s told her he doesn’t. She’s brought up the subject of Lottie’s situation a couple of times with Cassie and the others, in a kind of roundabout way, but no one’s mentioned Douglas’s domestic arrangement. Why would they discuss Grace’s business with her? They barely know her.

What if Kai doesn’t like him?

She didn’t mention the date to her son, but if it did come to something, she’d have to tread that line between needing his approval and not wanting him to get too attached in case it fizzled out. The last real relationship she had was three years ago, and that had been a disaster. She had thought two years was long enough, that Kai would understand, even expect her to start dating again. But no. He had a meltdown. Since then, it had been Tinder hook-ups if she could work up the energy.

This tiny bud of a thing with Grace Trelawney’s ex-boyfriend was different. She could feel it in the way her hands were shaking, her palms damp with sweat. She had to wash and dry them before doing up the mother-of-pearl buttons on her shirt. This meant something.

He had asked her not to tell Grace.

Did that mean something too?

Douglas was waiting for her. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek and his long fingers curled around her shoulder. They crossed the road and made their way towards Knightsbridge and the Italian restaurant he’d booked. They talked about this and that, Anna telling him about her day, trying to be witty and self-deprecating, and Douglas telling her about his. He wasn’t self-deprecating at all. From what he said, Anna gleaned that he was self-employed, worked in tech in some mysterious capacity, having decided that law didn’t suit him. The conversation as they walked along the busy Brompton Road didn’t exactly flow, but the traffic was noisy, there were a lot of people around, considering most of the shops were closed, and it was icy, so they were muffled in scarves. She had noticed that he was freshly shaved though, and she was encouraged by that.

She drank too fast. He didn’t. He was disconcertingly in control. She could appreciate him properly now; the fact of it being a date giving her permission to study his face, to appreciate its attractive asymmetry, to lose herself in his eyes. His mouth fascinated her. Between their main course and pudding, she felt emboldened to touch on more personal subjects, particularly the one that interested her most: the triangular relationship between him, Nick Ritchie and Grace Trelawney.

‘So, you seem to have a very civilized relationship with Grace.’

His fingers stroked the stem of his glass. ‘You gotta do it for the kids,’ he joked, then looked serious. ‘Lottie is the most important thing to both of us.’

‘What does Nick think about that?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I’d say he takes it in good part. He knows I’m not walking away from my child to convenience him.’

‘Can I ask you a personal question?’ she said.

‘I think you just did.’

She held his gaze steadily. ‘Another one, then. Which one of you is the cuckoo in the nest?’

Douglas laughed out loud, and she was pleased that she amused him. He reached over and touched her cheek, and she felt joy blossom inside her.

‘I’m not trying to get in the way of Grace’s relationship. I don’t want her back.’ He paused and scrutinized her. ‘Are you jealous?’

‘No. Not at all.’ Angus had asked her that. She would have to watch herself, if that was the vibe she was giving out.

‘But you rightly want to know how things stand before you decide whether to let me into your life. I understand that, Anna. And I’ll tell you. I was very much in love with Grace, and she with me, but it didn’t work. She needed my help, but she found it hard to accept. She thought I was trying to control her; but I wasn’t, I was trying to ensure she didn’t fall back down the hole I pulled her out of.’

‘What kind of hole?’

‘If she wants you to know, then I’m sure she’ll tell you. You can ask me anything about myself, but I can’t share her secrets. It wouldn’t be fair.’

So Grace had secrets. The waiter offered them the dessert menu, and Anna ran her eyes over it while she took stock. She fancied Douglas, but there was danger there. With Ben she had been in control; was loved more than she loved. She had been cherished. Something told her that it would be different with Douglas; that she would be the one who clung. On the other hand, just being aware of that made her stronger. She could easily hide her insecurities, couldn’t she? Self-knowledge is power. He evidently still cared about Grace, but Anna could handle that. Grace was attractive enough, but she was hardly going to stop traffic. She was your typical girl next door. Some men liked that sort of thing, obviously, or there would be a sharp decline in population, but Anna knew her own power.

Bring it on.

She was drunk, on him as much as the wine. His glance made her giddy, his touch turned her insides to butter, his voice wrapped her in static anticipation. She didn’t want the night to end. She had an enormous urge to offload everything, to tell him about Izzy, about Nick and Tim Ritchie and Ben, but she had the sense to pull back from the brink. He was still too close to Grace, and she didn’t know yet whether she could trust him. She would wait until she had him at her feet.

She contented herself with telling him about her very brief liaison with an older man. Douglas looked Angus Moody up on his smartphone and raised his eyebrows.

‘He’s seriously loaded,’ he commented. ‘Shame you didn’t stick around a little longer. You might have got a pay-off. A bit of Cartier, perhaps.’

‘I’m not that sort of girl.’

She laughed, because he was only joking, but she found herself telling him what she had overheard at Angus’s house that afternoon, about the dubious nature of his business dealings, flattered by the way Douglas seemed so absorbed in her tale. It was only later that she discovered his interest was a little more than superficial.