She stopped herself from saying anything.
‘It was wrong. Letting you go like that. Letting my parents make you feel as if you weren’t wanted in my life. They were wrong. I’ve missed you like mad over Christmas, and when you rang, I just realised . . . I realised that I love you.’
It wasn’t the first time he’d said it. He’d murmured it a few times after sex, many more times in circumstances that had concluded in bed. She looked deep into his clear blue eyes, trying to work out his sincerity now.
‘You could have called me,’ she replied, gently testing him.
‘I knew how pissed off you were, and frankly, I don’t blame you. But that’s in the past. We’re here now, together, and let’s enjoy it.’
Her nerves returning, Amy picked up the menu and began to scan it.
‘Shall we start with a drink?’ she suggested, her voice still cool. ‘How about the Shiraz? This South African red,’ she said without thinking.
Daniel’s face betrayed his surprise. She had never even expressed a preference for red or white before.
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Why not?’
They ordered the wine and their food and Daniel pushed his hand across the table so that their fingers touched.
‘Tell me about New York.’
And over their delicious dinner, she did. She told him all about the Holbein in the Frick, and Serendipity, and Christmas Day with her family. In return, Daniel told her about his promotion, and the holiday period in Oxfordshire, which seemed to involve Cotswolds pubs and horse racing with his father.
‘I couldn’t wait to escape,’ he confided. ‘I couldn’t wait to get back to you.’
Whether it was true or not, Amy was happy to hear him say it at least. Daniel was certainly back to his affable, charming self. The Daniel she had fallen in love with almost twelve months earlier. The Daniel she could spend hours with just walking around a park or by a river, holding hands and swapping stories. The Daniel who was attentive, exciting and clever, the Daniel who had been chosen for the fast-track diplomatic service because he could make you feel so interesting and smart just by the way he listened to you. She had always thought that he could sort out various international hostilities just by taking all parties concerned to the pub for the night – no wonder he had smoothed over their argument at the Tower by the time the starters had arrived.
‘Come on,’ he said finally as he polished off his beef Wellington. ‘I can’t be bothered with pudding – can you? Let’s just get out of here.’
And as they stood and walked out of the restaurant, suddenly the question of whether they were back together didn’t need to be answered. Amy could tell they were together again, she could feel it in his touch, the protective way he led her through the hotel, the feeling when his fingertips found hers.
‘Daniel . . .’ she said, turning. ‘I—’
‘Dan Man! Is that you?’ A booming voice interrupted what she was about to say and an overweight man lurched towards them. ‘It is you, you old bugger!’
‘Gidster, how the bloody hell are you, old man?’ replied Daniel, gripping the man’s arm like they were long-lost brothers. He broke away and turned to Amy.
‘Amy Carrell, meet Gideon Maybar. We were at school together.’
‘Hell-o, Amy,’ said Gideon lasciviously, shamelessly looking her up and down. His tongue might as well have been hanging out. ‘You’ve fallen on your feet, eh, Dan-Dan?’ he added, nudging Daniel in the ribs.
‘So what brings you here, Gid?’ asked Daniel. ‘Christmas drinks?’
‘No, nothing so fun. We’re at a wedding in the ballroom. I’ve just come for a time out, quick puff on the old Cohiba.’
‘A wedding?’ laughed Daniel. ‘Not yours, I hope?’
Gideon laughed and shook his head.
‘No, Alex Dyer – you remember, in the year above us? Hey, why don’t you come and have a drink?’
‘Do you think he’ll mind?’
‘Course not – anything to distract him from the trouble and strife, eh?’
‘Should we pop in for one?’ asked Daniel, turning to
Amy. Amy couldn’t think of anything she’d like less than walking into a room full of his drunken school friends, but she forced a smile. She could cope with this. In this dress, she could cope with anything.