‘No. It’s too difficult for him to talk about. That’s his problem, not being able to talk about things that hurt.’
‘I feel deeply sorry for him. He’ll feel it so very much. His own boys.’
‘He does.’
‘Does he know who you’re with right now?’
‘No, I’ve told him I’m at an evening class for nursery leaders. A six-week course.’
‘I see.’ He seemed a little disapproving of her fib.
‘I don’t lie as a habit, I just couldn’t upset him any more than he already is.’ Liz wound her fingers around his and noticed a pale circle at the base of the third finger of his left hand. ‘Your wedding ring?’
‘I’ve removed it for greater truthfulness.’
She kissed the space where it had been. ‘I think that’s a beautiful gesture.’ Liz had never felt moved to do that kind of thing before and wondered what was happening to her. ‘I can’t remove mine, not yet.’
Titus swirled her wedding ring around her finger. ‘I hope you will for me one day soon.’ His grey eyes studied her face and his grip tightened on her hand, ‘My word, Liz, I can’t explain how I feel about you. I can’t find the words. Let’s eat. Might do better on a full stomach.’
Titus picked up his menu and began to read it, glad of a reason for looking away from her. The words on the menu swam before his eyes so he ordered steak and all the trimmings because he couldn’t distinguish between the words.
In a very small voice Liz agreed she would have the same. ‘Did you know we had two burglaries in the village last Thursday while the market was on? You see, the village hasn’t bothered to lock doors and windows literally for centuries. I think perhaps we’ll need to learn, though.’
Titus looked shocked. ‘Serious burglaries?’
‘In the case of Grandmama Charter-Plackett, yes. She had some valuable silver snuff boxes taken. But I understand our village sergeant is on the case.’ Liz smiled, inferring that the case would be solved any moment now. ‘And the pub landlady is missing some trinkets of sentimental value.’
‘That is dreadful.’
‘It’s not your fault, you’re not to blame.’
‘I didn’t meet the landlady, only Dicky.’
‘She’s tiny, about five feet nothing, but she’s formidable.’
The food arrived and Liz was outfaced the moment she saw her plate piled so high. How could this be? The excitement of knowing she would be eating with him that night had prevented her from eating much during the day so she was starving, but here she was, unable to eat.
Titus grinned. ‘I like a woman with a good appetite. Get started. Go on.’
Seeing him picking up his knife and fork and tucking in gave her the impetus to attack her plateful. The rich sauce poured liberally over the steak, the organic vegetables, the tender new potatoes, the tomatoes grilled to a turn, it was all so delicious.
Titus, apparently, didn’t drink alcohol, but he’d ordered a half-bottle for her.
As she took her first sip she asked, ‘You don’t drink?’
He shook his head but explained when he’d finished his mouthful. ‘It doesn’t agree with me.’
‘Not beer or lager?’
‘Not anything.’
Liz found him a very pleasant person to eat with. Neville always made her feel greedy. He was such a delicate, picky eater, and ate as though he enjoyed nothing. It put her off her own food. Whereas Titus . . . Suddenly he put down his knife and fork and reached across for her hand. Tenderly, so tenderly, he kissed the palm. ‘Are you happy in my company, Liz?’
‘I am. Oh! I am.’ She smoothed her fingers over his rather artistic-looking hands and taking each of his fingers in turn she put her lips to them. It dawned on her how little she knew about him, but how much it mattered that she did. ‘Are you a musician, Titus?’
‘I do play the piano. Yes.’
‘Your hands are the giveaway. They’re beautiful. I haven’t a single ounce of talent in me. Not a single ounce. I don’t paint or draw or play or sing. Maybe I am the right sort of person for Neville; he laughs at such talents. Mocks them, you know.’ Liz’s eyes filled with tears.
He handed her a tissue sympathetically. ‘That’s sad, I’m sorry because he misses so much of the quality in life.’
Liz began to laugh. A small polite laugh at first, which exploded into a loud guffaw. She hugged her sides, and still she roared with laughter. The other diners turned to look. Finally she got control and dried her eyes to stop herself from bursting into more tears for Neville’s sad life. ‘Titus! In your position you’re supposed to rant and rave about the man, not feel sorry for him!’
‘But I do. I can’t help it. I’m enjoying his wife’s company while ... should we be keeping an eye on the clock?’
‘Oh! I didn’t think. No, no, it’s eight-thirty. We’re all right for another hour.’
‘Eat up. Then we’ll go for a walk by the river for a while before you have to go.’
As they left the Wise Man Titus asked, ‘Liz, forgive me. I never asked if you wanted a pudding. That’s disgraceful of me. Shall we go back?’
‘No, thank you, I’m absolutely full.’
Titus tucked her forearm into the crook of his arm and they set off at a good pace towards the river. It was growing dark but a bright moon lit the shimmering water of the broad river and lent a wonderful magical air to their evening. A group of swans, settling for the night, idled by the river’s edge like ghosts. The lights strung along both sides of the embankment reflected in the water, and Liz was fascinated by the wriggling patterns of the lights. Here and there a boat bobbed in the water, adding a touch of life to the whole scene.
Titus stopped by a lamppost, so he could see her face clearly. ‘Do you think we should be completely honest with Neville?’
Liz said, ‘Are you mad? No. Not yet.’
‘I’ll go home with you now and talk to him about it. How we can’t help ourselves.’
‘What would we say to him? What are you asking of him?’
‘Just that it’s inevitable.’
‘Well, no, Titus. Please don’t spoil a wonderful evening. Leave it be.’
‘I’d rather he knew.’
‘I wouldn’t want him to know, not until we’re sure, the two of us . . .’
‘But that’s just it, we
are
sure.’
‘But of what?’
‘That we want to spend the rest of our lives together.’
Liz, choked with emotion by his certainty, whispered, ‘But it’s too soon, much too soon. We’d be mad to say that after what . . . four meetings, and two of those in public? Completely mad.’
‘But that’s how we feel.’
‘I know it is but . . . we’re not in our teens. We’re grown adults with responsibilities, we’ve got to be certain. I’ve got my boys to think about. I’m going home. Lunch on Thursday? My house?’
Then it was that he kissed her in a way she’d never before experienced, with a passion and an urgency that shook her to her roots.
Then he escorted her to her car and stood holding her, urgency all gone, cherishing her instead with such gentleness. That was another thing she’d never experienced before. Finally Liz opened her car door, kissed her forefinger, placed it on his lips and got in. Titus walked away to find his car, and drove out of the multi-storey, jubilantly tooting the horn till out of her hearing.
She sat in the car for a good five minutes, with a smile on her face, before she dared to start it up, thrilled that at last she’d found out something of what loving must be all about. But as for telling Neville . . . It was much too soon. She couldn’t quite believe it would last, you see. Not yet. It was too magical to be real.
Liz came back to earth the minute she walked into the house. She listened for Neville and heard him tapping away on his computer in the study; nothing new there then. But he must have heard her come in, because the front door had slipped from her grasp and slammed in the wind which had got up.
She imagined it being Titus sitting there hearing the door bang and knowing she’d come home. Scarcely taking time to save what he’d done, he’d have rushed into the hall and embraced her. She could almost feel his arms around her, his lips on hers, his delight at her return. She wouldn’t be lying to him about where she’d been. She shouldn’t be lying to Neville but she was about to.
Liz was expected to knock at the study door and wait for him to call out, ‘Come!’ but tonight she didn’t. She went straight in saying. ‘Hi! I’m back.’
Neville didn’t even look up. ‘Good evening?’
‘Yes, excellent.’ That bit at least was true.
‘Good tutor?’
‘Excellent. Yes, he’s very good.’
‘Making a cup of tea?’ He still hadn’t looked at her and she was glad, because she knew remnants of Titus were still there in her face.
‘How about hot chocolate for a change?’
The suggestion of change alerted him. He looked up, fortunately too full of his spreadsheet to notice anything unusual in her. ‘We always have tea.’
‘Well, I fancy a change. Chocolate it is then.’
Neville, uneasy at the alteration in his routine, said, ‘All right. I’ll be there in a moment. Did Angie go with you?’
‘No, she’s going on a course next term to qualify. This one’s for the qualified.’
They always sat in the kitchen at their little breakfast table at night, to ‘save the sitting room carpet’, as Neville would say.
He came in rubbing his eyes, and sat down.
‘Have you been working on that thing all the time I’ve been out?’
‘Yes. We’ve had a brilliant year, you know. The best ever. I shall need more staff if we go on like this.’
‘Have you thought any more yet about other partners to replace Hugh and Guy?’
Neville flushed a deep red, the colour flooding up his pale face like a wave. He leapt to his feet shouting, ‘They’re not leaving. I’ve told them. They’re not leaving. I won’t have it. I simply won’t have it. It’s their business and they’ve to buckle down and get on with it.’
Liz steadied the table to prevent her chocolate spilling. ‘In that case you’ll have to change your ways.’
‘Change my ways? There’s nothing to change. I don’t do anything actually illegal, nothing anyone’s going to find out about, anyway.’
‘No, Neville, but you sail too close to the wind, and they do know what they’re talking about. Don’t deny it.’
He paced up and down the kitchen, slapping his hand on the worktop as he strode about. ‘I won’t have it. Nothing I do is illegal, just a bit . . .’ He rocked his outspread hand back and forth. ‘They’ve nothing to fear.’
‘One day perhaps, our Kev might spill the beans, and then where will you be?’
‘Not Kevin. I pay him too well for him to spill anything at all.’
‘You don’t know who else hands him brown envelopes. One day they might pay him to tell all.’ Liz pushed his mug of chocolate across to him. ‘I’ll warm it up if it’s gone cold.’
Neville lunged across to the table, grabbed the mug and drank it down all at once. He was certainly upset. He shuddered momentarily, and wiped the sweat from his top lip.
‘All that searching about in the archives that he does for people,’ Liz continued. ‘Heaven alone knows what he might find and hide or deliberately leave out for someone else to find. People like Kevin live on a knife-edge all the time. Too many fingers in too many pies. Take my advice and forget him.’
Neville stood by the window, fists clenched, looking out at the darkened village. ‘He’s invaluable to me.’
‘If you didn’t use him maybe the boys might stay with you. It’s the underhand goings-on they object to.’ Liz got up to put the mugs in the dishwasher, thankful that his spate of being considerate to her had stopped as quickly as it began. But he took them from her, saying, ‘I’ll do that. You go to bed, I’ll lock up.’