‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You’re utterly wrong. He came after me to offer an apology—of sorts. It’s definitely over with Fiona, and he’s planning to go away.’
‘Well, don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll be back.’
‘I sincerely hope not.’ She hesitated. ‘I’ve come here to ask you something.’
‘Then you’d better sit down,’ he said. ‘I’m drinking single malt. Will you join me?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Please.’
His mouth twisted sardonically. ‘It must be a hell of a question,’ he observed as he switched off the music and left the room.
Tavy sat down on the opposite sofa. It was like sinking into a wonderful soft cloud, she thought, trying to marshal her thoughts.
‘Delivered yesterday and about as far from dark brown leather as it’s possible to get,’ Jago said, as he returned carrying a bottle and another tumbler.
‘They’re lovely,’ she said, running a hand over the luxurious blue fabric. She shook her head. ‘You don’t waste time, do you?’
‘Not when I find what I want,’ he agreed, resuming his seat. He raised his glass. ‘Cheers.’
She murmured a response, then sipped the whisky, cautiously savouring its smoky taste.
There was a silence, then he said, ‘I’m listening.’
‘My father tells me your band is getting together again. That’s how you’re raising the money for Holy Trinity.’
He nodded. ‘If the Bishop will accept my tainted money. It’s the farewell concert we planned a long time ago. And we’re issuing a final album too. Pete and I have been working on it since I came back to Britain.’
She swallowed. ‘Then he’s forgiven you.’
‘For what?’ he asked wryly. He shook his head. ‘It’s myself I have to forgive.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He said tiredly, ‘Why should you? It’s all a world away from any experience of yours—or I hope it is.’
He paused. ‘Descent’s success was instant and meteoric. Everything—booze, drugs, girls—there for the taking. A time of total excess.’ He gave a twisted smile. ‘And we were—excessive.
‘Then one day, you wake up and wonder what you’re doing to yourself. You realise that nothing gives you a high like standing in some arena listening to the crowd go mad. And you take back your self-control and your self-respect.
‘Only by then it was too late for Pete. My best mate had become an alcoholic and coke addict and I hadn’t seen it happening. His marriage to Alison had already broken up. She was a lovely girl but she couldn’t handle what he’d become. She came to me for help, and I took her to her parents’ home in Malaga, which probably started the rumours.
‘Even after Pete agreed to go into rehab, his parents refused to believe that their quiet sensitive son was addicted to anything. And to them I was the bastard who’d led him into bad ways.’
He added wearily, ‘And, in retrospect, perhaps they weren’t so far from the truth. I should have seen he was more vulnerable than the rest of us—looked out for him.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘Anyway, he’s back with us now, still an alcoholic, of course, taking one day at a time, but totally off drugs. And planning to become a potter once Descent’s swansong is finally over.’
‘And Alison?’ Tavy asked. ‘What happened to her?’
He looked faintly surprised. ‘Apart from the fact she divorced him, I haven’t the slightest idea. She could hardly be expected to keep in touch. But why ask about her now and not the other day?’
She said, ‘Because then I thought she was Barbie.’
He was very still suddenly. ‘And if she had been? What then?’
She said, stammering a little, ‘Well, it would have explained why you wanted to buy a house in a quiet backwater like this. To make a fresh start—with her.’ She made a performance of looking at her watch. ‘But I’ve taken up quite enough of your time.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘You could never do that. And I think you know it.’ There was a note in his voice that she found unnerving. ‘Now let me ask you a question. Why did you run away after the meeting if it wasn’t to Patrick?’
‘You really thought I’d want anything more to do with him?’
‘Why not?’ He shrugged. ‘Sometimes people go on loving the wrong person, in spite of everything, and though they know it will lead to misery. You told me so yourself.’