Part 35 (1/2)
”Forget it. So, what are you going to do? About the money, I mean?” said Charles.
”I have ways and means,” said Laura, smiling with a confidence she didn't feel.
”Good for you,” said Charles. ”I bet you do,” and he patted her shoulder rea.s.suringly.
That was almost too much for Laura. She gulped, and said in a wavering tone, ”Thanks, Charles. Thanks a lot,” and he gave her a quick, slight grin as they stood together in silence.
”Where are you going now?” Charles asked as they finally reached the lobby. He looked out through the doors onto the Strand, staring thoughtfully at the rain as it splashed into puddles.
”Well,” said Laura, looking at her watch. ”G.o.d, it's still early-ish, isn't it? I think I'm going to head into Soho.” She took a deep breath and said, ”Actually, I want to go home. I'm really tired and I need to-to think it all through.” She looked up at him. ”I think I'm going to get a-oh.”
As if in a dream, Laura saw Nick arriving, patting Charles's shoulder; saw him as he saw her, raised his chin, faced her. She saw all of this as if they were underwater, moving slowly; as if it were someone else instead and she had no control over what she said or did.
Charles said, ”I'll go and see where the car is.” He nodded politely at Laura, and stepped aside.
”Laura,” said Nick. His expression held no emotion whatsoever. ”Nice to see you.”
He looked at his fingers, flicked something imaginary from one of his nails, and smiled at her. His expression was cold and his dark eyes rested just above her head. It was strange; she remembered his eyes as being so full of warmth, emotion, flas.h.i.+ng with anger or amus.e.m.e.nt, and to see him like this was-it was almost like seeing a corpse, a waxwork of him. This wasn't the Nick she knew.
This is who you are, isn't it? Laura thought in a flash of clarity. You really are this person most of the time. She looked at him, and didn't know what to say. The events of the evening were catching up with her.
”I have to go,” she said, starting away.
”Of course,” said Nick, his voice slightly raised. ”Well. Goodbye, then.”
Laura looked back at him. ”Say goodbye to Charles for me, will you? Tell him I couldn't stay.”
She headed for the door, and felt a hand on her arm.
”It's raining,” said Nick's voice in her ear. ”Look, Laura, why don't we give you a lift to wherever you're going?”
”No, thanks,” said Laura desperately. ”I'll get a cab.”
She turned to look at the steady column of men and women in evening dress, fluttering and cooing on the pavement outside as the rain came down more heavily and steaming cabs already filled with pa.s.sengers pa.s.sed by.
”It's pouring with rain, everyone's leaving, you're wearing virtually nothing. You'll never get a taxi, so just stay here and I'll drop you off.”
”I...” Laura said, shaking his hand off her arm, very tired. ”Oh, please just let me go....”
”Come on, Laura,” said Nick. ”Let us give you a lift. Please.” His jaw was set. He said, not looking at her, ”Charles is with me, he can keep the peace.”
”Honestly, don't worry,” Laura said, her mother's fear of socially awkward situations settling over her like a cloud. ”I live in North London, it's miles away.”
”Well, that's perfect,” said Nick. ”We're going that way anyway.” He unwrapped his scarf. ”Great. There's Charles.” He hailed his friend. ”What news?”
”Car's outside, Nick,” said Charles.
”We're giving Laura a lift back to North London,” said Nick. ”Because it's on our way.”
Charles's expression didn't flicker. ”Great,” he said. ”Let's go.”
He opened the door for Laura, and she felt something light drop onto her shoulders, over her thin evening cape. She looked down. It was a scarf.
”Keep the rain off,” Nick said. Out on the pavement, a smartly dressed man was rus.h.i.+ng forward with an umbrella. Nick put his arm under hers; she felt the slight pressure of his hand guiding her. Her eyelids were heavy; and she felt dizzy all of a sudden. She climbed into the car and straightened her skirt, pulling it over her thighs; he stood looking down at her for a moment, and shut the door with a bang. She heard him throw the umbrella into the back, then have a brief conversation with the driver as Charles slid into the front seat next to the driver, and Nick got in next to her. The car smelled of leather, luxurious, oddly stifling.
”Thanks, Paul.” Nick nodded at the driver, and they moved away without noise.
chapter forty-three.
S he may have been feeling totally drained, and wanting to bang her head on the window, but Laura was a trooper. No matter that the evening had begun badly and ended disastrously-she briefly considered whether there was any chance the Marcus she had left semiconscious at the dinner table could still be the Marcus who would ring up on Monday with a donation to the sponsors.h.i.+p program for twenty thousand pounds, and then realized the answer was no-she wasn't going to behave like a five-year-old. No matter that it was pouring rain. No matter that her date was drunk and a bit weird, and that Nick was here with a beautiful blond millionaire's daughter. She could still make civilized conversation, be polite.
”Thank you for this,” Laura said, s.h.i.+fting on the leather. ”It's really kind of you.”
”Not at all. My pleasure.”
Laura fell silent, aware it was just the two of them talking while Paul, the driver, and Charles in the front pretended not to be listening; Nick seemed to be completely at ease with it, of course. She looked at him, sitting comfortably in the back, his beautiful gray wool coat glistening with raindrops, one arm flung across the back of the seat, one strong brown hand resting lightly on the leather, just a little way from her head.
She wasn't really sure what to do or say next. All the cheerful, socially adept questions she could possibly ask him-”Have you had a nice evening?” ”Who was at your table?” ”How's the estate?” ”Ha-ha, well, isn't it strange, b.u.mping into you like this?”-sounded too loaded to her. And the ones she really wanted to ask-”What's going on with Cecilia?” ”Have you missed me, because I've missed you?” ”Can I lick your face, or would that be weird in the back of the car?”-were obviously not suitable. So she pulled his scarf around her a little more, and sank down a little farther into her seat.
”So...” said Nick. He tapped his fingers on the headrest behind Laura, and she jumped. ”Sorry.” He touched her shoulder lightly. ”Sorry, Laura. I'm-this is weird.” He looked at her frankly, and Laura turned to him.
”It is, isn't it?” she agreed, remembering again with a rush of-what?-how nice he was, how easy and straightforward, and wondering how she could ever have thought he was remote, hard to understand.
”Good evening, wasn't it?” Nick said. ”Lovely atmosphere. Very relaxing. German bankers are my favorite bankers.”
”Good?” said Laura, laughing. ”Ooof. What a night. I thought it was never going to end. How can you do it?”
”I don't, that often,” said Nick. ”But I was in town, and Lars...”
Laura was determined to be chipper, upbeat, polite. He had made the effort; it was up to her to repay him. ”Is that Cecilia's dad?” she asked, in a tone of polite interest.
”Yes,” said Nick. ”Nice bloke. He's really helped me out over the past couple of years, and he invited me. I thought it would be rude not to go.”
”Absolutely,” said Laura airily. ”Yes, these things can go on a bit, can't they.”
Nick gave her a strange look. ”Go to them a lot, do you?”
”Oh. Well, you know, here and there,” said Laura, trying to sound like she knew what she was talking about.
”Go with Marcus, do you?” said Nick.
”Er,” said Laura. ”Well, tonight I did.”
Nick flicked a piece of dust off his coat. ”Surprised to see you with him.”
Laura thought of Marcus-not the Marcus she'd run away from, the one lying drunk and pa.s.sed out on the table, but the one who had kissed her rather determinedly at the bar, holding her hand. His old-fas.h.i.+oned courtesy, how he just wanted to meet someone nice. She said defensively, ”He's all right. Okay?”