‘But you’re never in the office, are you, Dom?’
‘I don’t know about that.’
‘Vee says you’re off to the Amazon. Where are you thinking of going after that? Harbord Industries could chip in a few dollars if it was somewhere interesting.’
‘Interesting?’ grinned Dominic.
‘Go on, give me your ultimate challenge.’
He looked thoughtful for a minute.
‘I’ve always fancied trying the Bering Strait. Crossing the water when it’s covered in ice. You know it’s only sixty-five miles from Alaska to Siberia, although the Russians won’t let a Westerner anywhere near their borders. Not officially, anyway.’
Tony laughed. ‘Would they notice one man and his husky? You could go, plant the old Union Jack and come home.’
Dom grinned. ‘As I said. Not officially.’
‘It sounds absolutely treacherous,’ said Ros, sensing an opportunity to make her feelings known. ‘Anyone doing that alone would be signing their death warrant.’
‘In this case, I think you’d have to,’ replied Dominic. ‘It would be the only way to go under the radar.’
‘Besides, I thought you preferred solo adventures these days,’ added Tony. ‘What was it you said about the romance, the peace of discovering the undiscovered all by yourself? I can’t remember his exact words.’ He turned his attention to Ros. ‘Your boyfriend’s the wordsmith. I’m just a dull finance guy. Still, it made me want to run off to Tangiers all by myself and have a religious experience.’
‘Religious experience?’ scoffed Victoria, sipping her wine. ‘If you went to Tangiers, you’d get drunk and find the nearest socialite throwing a party.’
Ros was determined to hold her ground, safe in the knowledge that she had an ally in Victoria.
‘Dom, I just worry about you. The Amazon adventure is bad enough.’
‘Bad enough?’ he said with surprise.
‘One man and his canoe, in the heart of the Amazon. I mean, I was reading about Percy Fawcett the other day. The adventurer who went looking for the Lost City of Z, not far from where you’re going. He went missing and was never found again, and he was one of the celebrated adventurers of his day. No one knows what happened to him. People say he was eaten by cannibals or murdered by one of the jungle tribes . . .’
‘I’m aware of Fawcett’s disappearance and the theories surrounding it,’ said Dominic more coolly.
‘I just don’t want it happening to you,’ said Ros, getting more worked up at the idea of him leaving. Already he was in the final stages of preparation, his flat littered with boxes and equipment, making the prospect of his departure seem very real.
‘What are you saying, Ros?’ He sat back in his chair and studied her.
‘I’m saying I don’t like it. I know the Amazon trip is arranged, but for
your next adventure can’t we go away on safari or something?’
‘You’re saying you don’t want me to do any more expeditions?’
‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ she said, folding her arms in front of her.
An awkward silence settled around the table.
‘We should talk about this later,’ said Dominic quickly.
‘Good idea,’ replied Victoria.
Glancing across at her host, Ros was upset that Victoria hadn’t backed her up, hadn’t offered anything to the conversation to support her. Their heart-to-heart, the female solidarity she had felt on their clifftop walk, suddenly seemed hollow.
Ros didn’t feel hungry for the rest of the meal. She struggled through the main course of Beef Provençal, and her apricot tart went untouched.
Tony steered the conversation towards their new house in the Hamptons, and when the sky had finally turned dark and the stars started glittering above them, Ros took it as an excuse to say good night.