Secrets from the Past. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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       FOURTEEN

      In the past, when we had been in love and together, Caffè Florian had been a favourite place. We had come here every day and now here we were again. Florian’s was still the same but we were not. We had changed.

      Despite the sun it was a cool afternoon, and a wind had blown up, and so we sat inside at a cosy table near the bar. Zac ordered coffee, but I fancied a vanilla ice cream. As I ate it slowly, Zac couldn’t keep his spoon out of the dish, kept dipping it in and spooning dollops of ice cream into his mouth.

      At one moment, he glanced at me, and asked, ‘Have you ever let another man eat food from your plate? Or, as in this instance, a dish?’

      I shook my head, endeavouring not to smile, detecting a hint of normality surfacing – his jealousy about unknown men. Actually, nonexistent other men. ‘No,’ I said at last.

      He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and murmured, ‘Good. It’s very intimate.’

      ‘I know.’

      ‘Do you mind? That I’ve always done it?’

      ‘No, I don’t … and listen, it’s a privilege only you enjoy.’

      He gave me a funny little smile, sat back comfortably in the chair. ‘I don’t know exactly why, but I’ve always loved this place. Perhaps because it smacks of another era, from a time gone by.’

      ‘I’m sure you’re right. I feel the same way,’ I said, thrilled that we were actually having a proper conversation, one that wasn’t stilted or awkward. ‘My mother told me that the original eighteenth-century décor had been carefully preserved; that Florian’s was one of the first places in Europe to serve coffee, when it was considered an exotic drink.’ I looked around. ‘It does have a special warmth. It’s very welcoming, sort of quaint.’

      ‘I loved your mother’s bits and pieces, as she called all that information she had tucked away at the back of her beautiful head,’ Zac remarked. ‘She was such a lot of fun.’

      I nodded, smiled at the memory of her. ‘She used to say she was a fountain of information nobody needed or cared about.’ I picked up my glass of water, took a swallow, gazed at him for a moment.

      I saw him clearly, as he was now, and there was something of the old Zac about him this afternoon. His colour was better, his eyes unexpectedly brighter, and the sharp angles of his face had softened. He was obviously relaxed, and it was visible in the way he held his body, as well as in his face.

      Suddenly, he said, ‘You’re staring at me, Pidge. Is something wrong?’

      ‘No, something is good,’ I responded quickly. ‘I think you’re much less uptight, and it shows. Ever since I arrived in Venice you’ve had strict control of yourself, as if you were afraid to be you, to be who you really are.’

      ‘I know, and I’m still in control.’

      ‘But you’re not so rigid this afternoon.’ I eyed him carefully, and a smile broke through when I added, ‘It’s as if you have loosened the tight rein you’ve had on yourself, and decided to trust me.’

      ‘If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have asked Harry to persuade you to come!’ he exclaimed, giving me an odd look.

      ‘He didn’t have to do much persuading.’

      ‘I would’ve been in a mess if you hadn’t agreed,’ he said after a moment, now gazing at me intently. ‘I’d have been lost. Your presence is very soothing to me, Pidge, even healing. I really believe I need you to help me get through this difficult period.’

      ‘I think so too,’ I agreed, and went on carefully. ‘How did you know you had to get out? Did something happen? Go wrong? Or did Harry decide to pull you out? He’s not discussed it with me, nor has Geoff. They sort of left me in the dark, actually. Are you able to talk about it? Or would you prefer not to? Is it too hard?’ I asked, the questions tumbling out of me. Questions I’d wanted to ask for days.

      ‘I can talk. I want to talk about it, and about other troubling things. That’s what I told Harry – that you’re the only СКАЧАТЬ