Part 36 (1/2)
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
He smiled and said, ”So, here we are. I made up my mind I wasn't going to speak to you when I got into the car.”
”That's nice of you,” said Laura, recovering herself.
”I mean it.”
”Really?” said Laura.
”Yes, Laura. I did. The way you left...”
”I know,” said Laura. The car reached the end of the Strand; they were at Trafalgar Square, and light flooded across Nick's face as they drove through the square and under Admiralty Arch.
”Do you understand why I had to leave?” she said, hardly breathing, wanting him to give her the answer she didn't dare to hope for.
”I didn't, no,” he said. ”Absolutely not.”
”Really?” said Laura, her heart pounding.
”Not at first, no,” said Nick. He nodded to himself. ”But now I do.”
”Oh,” said Laura. ”Right.”
She knew exactly the reasons why she'd left, why she'd given up on them; but she couldn't, at that exact moment, remember what those reasons were. ”It's just-not meant to be, is it, I suppose,” she said, scanning his face, but his expression was formal, closed again, and she couldn't read him anymore.
”I don't think it is,” he said. ”If that's what you think, too.”
Laura rubbed her eyes and looked out on the Mall as they drove sedately along the wide, tree-lined boulevard. The rain had stopped. She looked at him suddenly, and caught him staring at her with that old, familiar look, his eyes searching her face, drinking her in. His lower lip was caught between his teeth. He winced, as if he were biting down too hard, and wiped his hand across his mouth, smiling suddenly at her.
”Is that what you think?” she said, looking intently at him. ”Really?”
”Yes,” said Nick. He gave a half smile, and patted her leg. ”Funny, isn't it.”
She felt the warmth of his skin on hers. ”Nick-” Laura whispered. ”I think-”
A mobile phone buzzed angrily in the quiet. Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket as Laura sank back into her seat.
”h.e.l.lo.... Good, thank you. And you.... Thank you.” His tone was expressionless.
Hearing the break in conversation, Charles turned around in his seat and peered at her. ”Oh, h.e.l.lo, Laura!” he said, as if he were surprised to see her there.
”h.e.l.lo, Charles!” Laura said. ”What a shock, how long have you been there?”
”Oh. Ha-ha-ha,” said Charles, looking confused. ”I'm sorry to disturb you, Laura. I just wondered-”
”No. It's a friend. She was at the party.” Nick's voice was quiet, and he had turned to the window, but Laura could hear every word. ”I'm giving her a lift home.... No. Cecilia, I've told you-”
Charles started talking over him. ”Where in North London do you want us to take you? I just wondered.”
They were at Buckingham Palace, turning up toward Hyde Park Corner. Laura pressed her hands to her cheeks, the events of the evening crowding in on her. Marcus kissing her in the bar. His hand on her thigh. The feel of Mary's necklace on her skin. Nick's hand, next to hers, but so far away. She looked down at her lap, saw her bag with the list of points about the investment program she'd planned to give Marcus sticking out of it, and anger and sadness and frustration at her own failure washed over her, this time with such force that it nearly knocked her back against the seat. What was she doing, in this car, with a man who clearly wasn't ever going to be hers? How had she managed to get herself into such a stupid situation again? How was she going to make it right with Rachel, who had put her faith in Laura, only to be disappointed again? She dug her nails into her palms. She had to get out, she had to get out.
”Actually, Charles-I'm meeting some friends just off Piccadilly. Can you drop me at Hyde Park Corner?”
”Really?” said Charles as they swooped past Green Park. ”I thought we were-”
”No, it's fine,” said Laura, panic in her voice, as Nick lowered the phone, frowning, and shoved it into his pocket almost viciously. ”I'll just hop out here. It's only quarter past ten, you know. Still time to meet them.” She tapped the handle. ”Can I get out?”
”You're going?” said Nick. ”What?”
”Yes,” Laura gabbled, trying to stay calm. ”My flatmate's in a pub just round the corner from here. With some friends. I'm going to meet them.” She clutched her bag. ”Thank you, Paul,” she said as they drew up on Piccadilly. ”I'll just hop out here.”
”Why on earth do you want to get out here?” said Nick. ”We can give you a lift home.”
”I want to meet my friends.” Laura knew she was sounding slightly shrill. ”Please. It's been a...weird evening, what with one thing and another, you know, and I have to explain it at work, about Marcus-”
”What do you mean?” Nick interrupted. ”What's Marcus got to do with work?”
”Oh, G.o.d, nothing, nothing,” said Laura, pressing her hands to her cheeks, which were burning red. ”Just-just please let me out.”
”Laura.” Nick took her hand then, curling her fingers up, wrapping his hand around hers. ”What's up? Are you okay?”
She couldn't look at him, couldn't bear to let him be kind to her, that was worst of all. She cleared her throat. ”I'm fine,” she said. ”Just...need to get out. Please, Nick. Honestly.”
”Don't go, Laura,” Charles said in a low voice. ”Please.”
”I think she wants to go,” said Nick. She turned to him, but he flashed her half a grin, almost a grimace. ”Well, Laura...”
”Yes,” said Laura, opening the door.
”Take care,” he said, and tapped her on the shoulder.
”Nick,” said Charles, looking at his friend. ”Don't you want to-”
”Laura has to go,” said Nick. ”Don't you, Laura?”
”Yes,” said Laura, suddenly anxious to beat him in the Who Is the Most Nonchalant stakes. ”Thanks for the scarf, Nick. Bye. Great to see you again!”
Charles turned away again and sighed.
She squeezed Charles's shoulder, then got out of the car, and as she did she felt Nick clutch her wrist, only for a fleeting, tiny second, and then it was gone. She looked into the dark interior, wanting to see his face once more, but the engine roared up again and they were off.
Laura breathed in deeply, watching them go, and walked up the quiet street, not looking, not caring, and when she opened the door into the steaming pub, full of wet drinkers, happy drinkers, drunk drinkers, she leaned against it for a second, desperately wanting to turn around to see if he was there, in case he'd got the car to turn around, to come back and find her. But she knew he wasn't going to do that. She looked across the tiny pub, and caught sight of Yorky and Hilary sitting in the corner. Her feet hurt. She made her way over to them.
”So,” Hilary said, taking a drag of her cigarette. ”Yorky tells me you've been sleeping with a duke or something. And you had a date tonight. How the h.e.l.l was it?”
chapter forty-four.