‘And you let him live?’ Primo demanded, scandalised.
‘I think I was kind of hypnotised by him. I wouldn’t let myself believe what I was discovering. And he looked fantastic in the new shirt. If a man’s incredibly handsome you somehow don’t think he can be a jerk.’
She lapsed into silence and sat brooding into her glass, trying to make a difficult decision. What came next was something she’d never been able to speak of before.
Yet here she was, on the verge of telling her most painful secret to a man she’d known only a day. But that day might have been a year, she seemed to know him so well. All her instincts reassured her that he was a friend and she could trust him with anything.
‘Tell me,’ he said gently. ‘What happened then?’
She gave a faint smile.
‘He had to work on a marketing project. By that time I had a job in the same firm. I was down at the bottom of the ladder but I understood the business and I helped him with the project. I’d done that before and, if I say it myself, the best ideas in that project were mine.
‘In fact the layout and presentation were mine too. He used to say that my talent was knowing how to say things. I was flattered, until it dawned on me that what he really meant was that he was the one with talent, and all I could do was the superficial stuff.’
‘But firms will pay big money for someone who can do “the superficial stuff”. It’s what marketing and presentation is about, and I’m surprised you don’t know that.’
She gave him a shy smile that went to his heart.
‘Well, I do know it now,’ she said. ‘But not then. I didn’t understand a lot of things then. As far as I knew, David was the great talent in the family.’
‘Because that’s what he kept telling you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Meanwhile he stole your ideas and used them to climb the ladder?’
‘He was promoted to be the boss’s deputy. That’s how he met the boss’s daughter, who was also working there. One day I went up to the top floor to pay him a surprise visit. We’d had a row and I wanted to make up. Rosalie was there, leaning forward over his desk, with her head close to his.
‘She scowled and demanded to know who I was, looking down her nose at me. I told her I was David’s wife and she gasped. He hadn’t told her he was married. Nobody in the firm knew. Our surname was Smith, which is so common that nobody made the connection.
‘That night he came home late. I spent the time crying, like the wimp I was. When he got home we had a big fight. I said how dare he pretend I didn’t exist, and he looked me up and down and said, “Why would I want to tell anyone about you?”’
‘Bastardo!’
‘I had nothing to say. She was so beautiful and perfectly groomed, and I was so dowdy. Soon after that we split up. There was a divorce and he married Rosalie. Since then he’s gone right to the top.’
‘Of course,’ he said cynically. ‘The boss’s son-in-law always goes to the top.’
She nodded. ‘His father-in-law is a rich man with a lot of power.’ She gave a curt laugh. ‘David has two children now. A friend of mine has seen them. She says they’re beautiful.’
‘And they should have been yours,’ he said gently.
She was suddenly unable to speak. But then she recovered and said, ‘No, of course not. That’s just being sentimental. When the divorce came through I did a lot more crying, so much that I reckon I’ve used up all my tears for the rest of my life. That’s what I promised myself, anyway. That was when I resumed my maiden name.
‘It’s silly to brood about the past. You can’t rewrite it. You can only make sure that the future is better. And that’s what I’m determined to do.’
Primo didn’t know what to say. She seemed to speak lightly but her manner was still charged with emotion. What unsettled him most was the way she’d revealed her pain with the sudden force of someone breaking boundaries for the first time. Now she seemed to be withdrawing back into herself, as if regretting the brief intimacy she’d permitted.
She confirmed it when she laughed and said, ‘And that’s the story of my life.’
‘No, not your life, just one bad experience. But don’t judge all men by your husband. Some of us have redeeming qualities.’
‘Of course. I like men. I enjoy their company. But I’m always waiting for that moment when the true face shows through.’
‘But suppose you saw the true face at the start,’ he suggested, fencing, hoping to draw her out further.
‘Does any man show his true face at the start?’ she fenced back. ‘Did you, for instance?’
‘Yes, let’s forget about that,’ he said hastily. ‘I prefer to talk some more about you.’
‘Why? Is the truth about you so very terrible?’
He was wildly tempted to say that the truth about himself was something she wouldn’t believe. But he recovered his sanity in time.
‘Tell me about the new Olympia, the one who knows that love is nonsense.’
‘At least she knows it’s something you have to be realistic about.’
‘I think you could lose a lot by being that sort of realist.’
‘But don’t you believe a person’s head should rule their heart, and they should avoid stupid risks?’
‘No, I don’t,’ he said, aghast. ‘You could hardly say anything worse about any man.’
‘Not at all. They’re admirable qualities.’
‘Yes, for a dummy in a shop window.’
‘Have I offended you?’
‘Yes,’ he growled.
‘But why? Most men like to be admired for their brains and common sense.’
He recovered his good humour.
‘You’ve observed that, have you? Is it on your list of effective techniques for use against Rinucci? Item one, sub-section A. Make breathless comments about size of brain and staggering use thereof. Note: Try to sound convincing, however difficult. Sub-section B. Suggest that-’
‘Stop it,’ she said, laughing. ‘Anyway, I don’t know if it would work with him. Is he intelligent enough to make admiration of his brains convincing?’
‘It doesn’t matter. If he isn’t, he’ll never know the difference.’
‘That’s true,’ she said, much struck.
‘Personally I’ve always considered him rather a stupid man.’
‘Stupid in what way?’ she wanted to know.
‘In every way.’
‘Stupid in every way,’ she repeated. ‘That’s a start.’
Primo grinned suddenly and hailed a passing waiter.
‘Would you bring the lady a notebook and pencil, please?’ he asked. ‘She has urgent notes to make.’ Turning back to Olympia, he said, ‘Of course, if you were really applying yourself to the job, you’d have brought them with you.’
‘I wasn’t exactly prepared for the conversation to be so promising.’
‘Always be prepared. You never know where any conversation might lead-what are you writing?’
‘Always-be-prepared-’ she said, her eyes fixed on the notebook which the waiter had just placed before her. Then she raised them and fixed them admiringly on his face. ‘How clever you are! I’d never have thought of a difficult concept like that for myself.’
‘Behave yourself,’ he said in a voice that shook with laughter.
‘But I was admiring your brilliant advice.’
‘You were using me for target practice.’
‘Well, some targets are more fun to practise on than others.’
The significant chuckle in her voice was almost his undoing. He longed to ask her to expand on the subject, but he felt she’d had it all her own way long enough.
‘Enough,’ he said severely. ‘If you’re going to do this, do it properly. Don’t be obvious. Even a fool like Rinucci could see through that.’
‘Really? Never mind, you can tell me what else to say. How old is he?’