Part 38 (2/2)

'You make it sound so final.'

'It probably is. I'm planning to stay out there.'

'Really?'

'It's a very nice life. Lots of Brits. Lots of suns.h.i.+ne...'

'And lots of work too-with luck.'

He shrugged. 'I've got a few screen tests coming up. There's quite a bit of interest at the moment because Land Ahoy!'s just been shown in the States.'

'Reese Witherspoon,' I murmured. 'I read that you might be working with her.'

'Yes. There's a chance I might. She's brilliant.'

'I loved her in Sweet Home Alabama.'

'Me too.'

'Well...you'll probably become a big star, then.'

He shrugged again. 'I don't know. I just hope it'll...work out. You know,' he added with a slightly forced brightness, 'it's probably a good thing we broke up-isn't it?' He gave me a tentative smile, as though he sought my approval. 'I can't imagine you'd have liked living in L.A. very much.'

'No, I don't think I would. I saw enough of it when Dad was over there to know that.'

'Although, on the other hand, you'd have been very busy,' he pointed out. 'Lots of neurotic pets.'

I smiled. 'Neurotic owners, rather. But you're right-L.A. isn't really for me. So, no-it probably wouldn't have worked between us long term anyway, and so it was just...as well...' That you abandoned me. I glanced out of the window. And if you hadn't, we would have been married next month. There was silence for a few moments.

'I'm sorry,' I heard him suddenly say. I looked at him, and now, to my amazement, there were tears standing in his eyes. 'I'm sorry, Miranda,' he repeated. 'That's what I've really come to say.' I was too stunned to reply, the silence between us so intense I could hear myself breathing. Then, suddenly, Alexander stood up. And I thought he was going to leave. Instead, he pulled me to my feet, and enveloped me in an awkward hug. 'I behaved so...badly,' he said, his voice fracturing with feeling. 'But I couldn't bear to leave London without telling you how sorry I am. You may not believe it, but I've felt just...terrible these past few weeks.'

'It's okay.' I felt my own eyes now brim, and then spill over. 'It's okay, Alex...'

'I don't know what...happened that night. I guess I...panicked. And the next thing I knew you were...' his voice trailed away. In hospital. 'But I just hope you can...forgive me.'

'Yes. Yes, of course I can-and I do. I do...forgive you.' As I said that, I felt something dark and shadowy leave my soul. 'I know you didn't mean...' I stopped. To desert me.

'It all happened so fast.'

'I know.' Now we sank onto the couch, side by side, gripping each other's hands.

'But it's tormented me, Miranda. The knowledge that you got hurt. And that I should have protected you-but I...didn't. I let you down.'

'Look, I'm completely better now. It didn't take long. I've got over it-and far worse things happen to people every day.'

'But when I got the engagement ring back, I just felt so bad. I felt that you hated me.'

I shook my head. 'That's not true. I wasn't returning it in order to punish you. It's just that keeping it didn't feel...right.'

'I sold it,' he murmured.

'Really?'

'I gave the money to charity.'

'That was nice.'

'And I've been trying to summon up the courage to contact you, ever since I knew I was going to the States: but I thought you'd refuse to see me, which would only have made me feel worse. But then, when I got the ring, I knew that I had to get in touch with you. I couldn't leave this country, feeling that you despised me.'

'I don't.' At least, not any more.

'I knew I couldn't move forward with that hanging over me. So I just needed to come and say...what I've said.'

'It's okay,' I murmured, my throat aching. 'It's all forgotten now. And in a funny sort of way,' I went on, 'maybe good things have come out of it.' I thought of David and my own search for forgiveness.

'What sort of things?'

'I can't...really say. But maybe, one day, I'll tell you.'

Even as I said it, I knew that I never would.

He sighed, then stood up again. 'Well, I'd better get going, I guess. I haven't finished packing.'

'What's happening to your flat?'

'It's being let.'

'Thanks for coming, Alexander. I'm so glad you did. Will you let me know how it goes?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Of course I will. If I land anything big, I'll e-mail you. I'd like to do that.'

I handed him my card. 'I hope it all works out...really well.'

'Thanks. You too. I'm so glad I've seen you.' His deep blue eyes were s.h.i.+mmering again, then he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

'Can I just ask you something?' I added, as he reached for the door handle.

'Of course.'

'Which charity did you give the money to?' He paused for a moment, and I saw his face flush.

'The... Samaritans. I think they're very worthwhile.'

After Alexander had gone, I sat on the couch, staring at the floor, mentally replaying the scene, frame by frame. Then I put Herman on the lead, and we skirted Primrose Hill in the gathering dusk, then entered Regent's Park. We crossed over to the Inner Circle, and pa.s.sed the theatre. There was no performance tonight. It was quiet. And now, as the residual pink of the sky turned to mauve, then cobalt, I sat on a bench, in the rose garden, the memories of my first glimpse of Alexander flooding back.

-I do beseech you-chiefly that I might set it in my prayers-what is your name?

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