‘May I …’ Adelaide considers what to say. ‘May I call you in a week to see how he is?’
Daphne stares at her. If only Adelaide could know what her old friend is thinking; if only there might be a skerrick of affection still there for her.
‘I’ll call you when he’s home,’ Daphne says.
It’s more than Adelaide could have expected.
‘Thank you,’ she says.
Daphne sniffs in a breath. ‘I imagine you’re not coming back to the frock shop.’
‘I didn’t think I’d be welcome.’
Daphne purses her lips. ‘It’s closing anyway.’
‘What?’ That shop has been so important to Daphne – it was mentioned in every one of her letters.
‘The landlord is doubling the rent. Wants a new tenant.’ Daphne sounds almost nonchalant, but she can’t be.
‘Is there one yet?’
‘No. Probably asking too much. But it will happen. Eventually.’ Daphne pats the arms of the chair. ‘Just thought you should know.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Adelaide says softly.
‘Not half as much as I will be.’
Daphne pushes herself to her feet. Adelaide knows she needs to follow suit.
‘I’ll see you out,’ Daphne says.
When they reach the door Adelaide turns and, without thinking, kisses Daphne on the cheek.
Daphne stands there and takes it and says nothing, which is worse, Adelaide thinks, than telling her to go away.
No more words are exchanged as Adelaide leaves and the door is closed behind her. Then she’s back on Beaconsfield Road, wondering if she’s done the right thing or the wrong thing by coming here, and if there’s any way she will ever find out.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Christina is still thinking about the phone call with Lindsay. About the prospect of a lead role. Part of her believes she’s due compensation for what she’s gone through and this could be it, even if she has to work for it. So maybe she is still ambitious enough. Just enough.
She outlines most of this for Duncan when they have dinner at his house, which isn’t far from his shop. He invited her over and said he would cook.
Christina walks from her place at sunset, enjoying the changing light, the coolness that comes with autumn. She’s clutching a bottle of wine that Duncan will say she didn’t need to bring – she knows him well enough now to predict this. They have the frisson of familiarity that has allowed her to relax with him. And this, she has discovered, is the greatest aphrodisiac she could imagine. So a bottle of wine isn’t all she’s bringing with her this evening; expectation is right along with it.
‘A lead role?’ he says as he cuts into a honey-glazed carrot. ‘That’s pretty exciting, right?’
‘I guess so.’ She takes a bite of her steak. ‘This is so good, thank you.’
He grins, all lopsided and charming. ‘You’re welcome. So why haven’t you gone over there already? Will they be holding the part for you?’
She’s taken aback. Does he want her to leave?
‘Um …’ She frowns and takes a sip of wine. It’s a heavy red and it will leave a stain on her lips. When she was acting she never drank red at a dinner out; if someone snapped a photo she could look like she was a vampire.
He stills. ‘What’s up?’
‘Oh.’ She laughs awkwardly. ‘Nothing.’