Her Last Night of Innocence Read online

  Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘Happy New Year to you too,’ she said sardonically, turning and heading back towards the door. ‘And you’re welcome.’

  ‘Wait—sorry,’ Dominic sighed. ‘A whole week in the company of my mother-in-law seems to have brought out my petulant side. Let me try that again, in the manner of a civilised human being who is delighted to be back at work at the start of an exciting new year.’ He beamed comically, gesturing to the chair squeezed into the gap between the window and the filing cabinet opposite his desk. ‘Have a seat and tell me about your Christmas. I take it you weren’t buried beneath an avalanche of pink plastic like we were?’

  Cupping her coffee in both hands, Kate sat down. Nine months older than her son, Dominic’s daughter Ruby was both Alexander’s best friend and his nemesis. Between them, they seemed to have dedicated their lives to proving any child psychologist who claimed that gender roles weren’t programmed from birth an idiot.

  ‘Nope, it was wall-to-wall cars with us,’ Kate said ruefully. ‘Alexander’s favourite by miles is the Alfa Romeo whatever-it-was from you.’ She took a sip of coffee. ‘He even takes it to bed with him. Thank you.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ Dominic said with a wistful sigh. ‘It’s a Spider, you hopeless girl. An Alfa Romeo Spider—and Alexander’s quite right. It’s one of the most iconic cars ever made. I’d go to bed with one if I could.’

  ‘Does Lizzie know about this?’

  ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t be surprised,’ Dominic said wryly, putting down his mug with a little grimace of distaste. ‘An Alfa Romeo Spider would never make me go on a detox programme.’

  ‘Serves you right. You shouldn’t have partied so hard over Christmas.’

  Dominic leaned back in his chair. ‘Yes, well, you know what this job’s like. Clients to entertain, staff parties to organise.’ He looked at her pointedly over his glasses. ‘Even though some staff didn’t bother to turn up.’

  Kate rolled her eyes, suddenly taking a great interest in rearranging the Post-it notes stuck all over the filing cabinet into tidy lines. ‘Come on, we’ve been through this before. I couldn’t get a babysitter, OK?’

  ‘Your mum was out clubbing again, was she?’

  The unlikeliness of the image made Kate smile briefly in spite of herself. ‘I can’t ask her all the time. She already does enough, looking after Alexander for me when I’m working. It’s not as if I can afford to pay her or anything.’

  ‘She wouldn’t take it even if you could. You know she loves having him. It’s been a lifeline for her after Will…’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Kate pressed her finger down on the corner of a Post-it note that stubbornly refused to stick. ‘Having a little boy around again takes her back to happier times, I guess, when both Will and my dad were alive. But I still don’t like to rely on her too much. I got myself into this situation, and as far as possible it’s up to me to deal with it on my own.’

  Dominic took another unenthusiastic sip of herbal tea. ‘You didn’t get into it entirely on your own,’ he observed dryly. ‘Not unless it was an immaculate conception.’

  It was pretty perfect, Kate thought bleakly, staring out over the grey, rain-soaked car park and thinking of a warm swimming pool, a quiet pine-and-lavender-scented night. But then she hadn’t had anything to compare it to—before or since—and, given that she hadn’t been out for an evening without Alexander in over six months, that wasn’t likely to change any time soon. She really must buy some decent clothes and go out with Lisa and the other girls next time they invited her. If they hadn’t given up asking her.

  ‘Hell-lo?’ Dominic’s voice, sounding distinctly tetchy, cut through her thoughts. ‘Are you listening to a word I’m saying?’

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, dragging her gaze away from the car park and her attention back to Dominic. ‘Immaculate conception. Getting into this on my own.’

  Dominic sighed. Leaning forward, he put his elbows on the desk, rubbing his hands over his face and pushing his glasses up. ‘That’s the point—you didn’t get into it on your own, and you shouldn’t have to deal with it on your own either. Parenting is bloody hard work. It takes two people to make a baby for a very good reason.’

  Kate’s heart sank as it began to dawn on her that Dominic was steering this conversation in a specific direction, and it wasn’t one that Kate wanted to go in. ‘I’m doing my best,’ she said defensively. ‘I know it’s not ideal, believe me, but I’m doing all I—’

  ‘I’m not saying you’re not,’ Dominic interrupted gently. ‘You’re a fantastic mother.’

  Kate put her mug down carefully on the desk. Her heart had started to beat a little faster, and she had an odd sensation, as if something cold and heavy was pressing on her chest.

  ‘But?’

  ‘It’s been four years, Kate, and you’re still holding on—hoping that a tall, dark Italian racing driver is going to come roaring down the high street and pull you into his arms.’

  Kate got to her feet with a bright smile. ‘OK—coffee break over. I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a load of work to do on the Healthy Schools account, so if you’ll—’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Dominic had got up too, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender, although he had also moved to one side of his desk so that he was effectively blocking her exit. ‘I’m not handling this very well, am I? Lizzie and I are worried about you, that’s all. The Christmas party was the last in a long list of Kate no-shows, and it just seems like you’ve been frozen in the same place for too long.’

  Kate really didn’t want to ask, but couldn’t see that she had much choice. ‘What place?’

  Dominic met her eyes steadily, giving her the distinct impression that he was preparing himself to say something he’d been planning for a while. ‘You’re still waiting for a man you don’t really believe is ever going to show up, and yet you can’t quite bear to stop hoping.’

  She turned her head away sharply, so that he wouldn’t see the pain on her face as Cristiano’s words came back to her.

  This isn’t over, you know. Last night was just the beginning. Wait for me.

  ‘Ah, well,’ she said with quiet bitterness, ‘that’s where you’re wrong. It’s my New Year’s resolution to do exactly that.’

  ‘And how well did you do with that one last year?’ Dominic joked and then, sensing her anguish, softened his tone. ‘The problem is, you’re not going to be able to do it while everything is so unresolved. You need closure. You need to know once and for all that things are over between you, and I don’t think that’ll happen until you’ve told him that he has a son.’

  Kate had stayed standing in the hope that she could wind this conversation up quickly and be on her way, but suddenly she wasn’t sure that was going to be possible. Or that it was turning out to be the kind of conversation that she could have without sitting down.

  ‘Not this again, Dominic. I tried that, remember?’ She sank back onto the chair and looked down at her hands. ‘Twice.’

  ‘I know you did, lovey, but you don’t actually know that the message got through. You wrote to him. But letters go astray—fall into the wrong hands. I think that for Alexander’s sake you have to try again. In a way that leaves no room for doubt.’

  In her lap Kate’s fingers were twisted together, the bones showing white beneath the roughened, winter-dry skin. ‘I’m not interested in trapping him,’ she said, very quietly. ‘I really don’t want to force him into acknowledging me, or Alexander.’

  ‘But it’s his responsibility.’

  There was a hint of exasperation in Dominic’s tone now, though he was doing his best to hide it. Oddly, it strengthened Kate’s resolve.

  ‘I don’t care,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t need Cristiano’s help—Alexander and I are fine on our own. Finding out I was pregnant was such a massive shock at the beginning, especially coming on top of the accident and everything, but I’m so glad it happened now. I love Alexander more than I could ever
have thought possible.’ She hesitated for a second, swallowing the lump of emotion that had suddenly formed in her throat. ‘I know it would be better if he had a father—for him and for me—but only if he wanted to be there.’

  Dominic turned and chucked the remainder of his herbal tea into the pot of a sickly-looking yukka behind his desk. ‘You don’t know for sure that he doesn’t.’

  ‘Oh, I think I do.’ Kate gave a dry, humourless laugh, turning her empty mug between her hands as if trying to absorb some of its fading warmth. ‘He did actually tell me that he didn’t want children when I interviewed him, so it was hardly a surprise when he didn’t answer my letters. But I did try to see him as well, don’t forget. I stood for two days outside the hospital, with the hardcore press pack and a group of slightly scary fans, trying not to throw up every five minutes.’

  She laughed, but tears stung at the back of her eyes as she remembered the late July heat, the constant drag of morning sickness, the growing pain and humiliation of realising she was wasting her time.

  ‘He was in a bad way,’ Dominic remarked. ‘He was in a coma for ten days—those kind of injuries take some getting over.’

  She flinched. The image of Cristiano, unconscious in a hospital bed was one that had haunted her during those terrible weeks. ‘I know. But he’d been out of Intensive Care for a while then, and according to the papers he’s made a full recovery. If he wanted to get in touch with me, he would have by now.’

  ‘So where does that leave Alex?’ Dominic said gruffly. ‘One day he’s going to want to know who his father is. He’s only three years old at the moment, and already he’s obsessed with cars and speed. Sooner or later…’

  Kate sighed, letting go of the mug and staring down at its cheery picture of a beach and palm trees. I really would rather be in Tenerife, she thought wearily. ‘What do you want me to do, Dominic? I tried. I wrote to him; I went to see him and couldn’t get past Security. Short of a front-page kiss-and-tell exposé in a tabloid newspaper, what else can I do?’

  Wordlessly, Dominic opened the top drawer of his desk and took out a large silver envelope. He slid it across the desk towards her.

  ‘Go and see him again.’

  Kate glanced from the envelope to his face, and back down again. Her heart had started to thud uncomfortably in her chest.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘An invitation.’ He silently cursed himself for not sounding more casual. He took a deep breath. ‘To a party at the Casino in Monte Carlo to launch the new season’s Campano team…And celebrate Cristiano Maresca’s return to racing.’

  Kate’s cornflower-blue eyes widened, seeking out his and seeming to search them from a face that was suddenly the same colour as the pale grey sky beyond the window.

  ‘Are you going?’

  Dominic couldn’t decide whether it was hope or terror that made her voice crack.

  ‘No. I’m sending Lisa, and Ian from the Campano account. And you.’

  Kate leapt to her feet, shaking her head vehemently. ‘No. You can’t. I can’t. What about Alexander? I can’t leave—’

  Dominic had known perfectly well that this would be her main objection and was well prepared. ‘He can come and stay with us—you know that he and Ruby have been pestering us for a sleepover for ages.’

  Kate didn’t smile. ‘But I—I’ve never left him overnight before.’

  ‘He’ll be fine—just like Ruby was fine when she stayed with you when Lizzie and I went away for our anniversary. You’re doing it for him, Kate. This is your chance to get some answers.’

  ‘No—I can’t.’ She shook her head again, her hand flying to her throat, her eyes wide with fear.

  Dominic felt guilt flare inside him like acid indigestion.

  Losing her father in a car accident had taught six-year-old Kate Edwards that life was fragile, and that happiness and security were precarious—a lesson that had been brutally hammered home fifteen years later, when her seventeen-year-old brother had ploughed his car into a tree on the Hartley Bridge to Harrogate Road and been killed outright. Dominic had met Kate for the first time a few months after that, when he had interviewed her for a job as his assistant at Clearspring.

  She had come back to stay in Hartley Bridge and be near her mother after university, she’d explained. It had been obvious within five minutes that she was capable of doing the job with her eyes closed, but also that she was a girl who was holding herself together by the skin of her teeth. He’d given her the job, and over the next year had watched the anxiety begin to fade from her eyes as her confidence grew. She’d been the obvious person to go to Monaco in his place when Ruby had made her unexpectedly early appearance, and he’d hoped that the trip would do her good—show her that there was a whole world beyond Hartley Bridge, and that aeroplanes were convenient methods of transport rather than plot devices in disaster movies.

  It had all backfired spectacularly, leaving Kate more aware than ever of the risk involved in reaching for happiness. Hence Dominic’s guilt, and his feeling of responsibility to both her and Alexander. Sitting on the sofa with a bottle of wine the other night, he and Lizzie had decided that the Campano party was an opportunity to break the cycle once and for all. Tough love. That was what they’d called it.

  Now it just felt cruel.

  ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ he asked gently.

  Looking out over the dingy car park, her eyes were huge in her pale face. ‘For once, I don’t even know where to begin to answer that,’ she said with a brave attempt at a laugh. ‘What if he doesn’t remember me? What if I got it totally wrong and to him I was just another anonymous, meaningless one-night stand? What if he’s there, surrounded by beautiful, adoring women, and he completely blanks me?’

  ‘Then it’s his loss.’ Dominic sighed. His caffeine craving was starting to bite, and this was the kind of conversation Lizzie was so much better at. ‘And you’ll know he was never worthy of your heart, or the time you’ve spent waiting for him, and you can finally move on.’

  ‘And Alexander?’

  ‘Look—here’s what I suggest.’ Frowning, Dominic got to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets in what every member of the Clearspring marketing department would recognise as an indication that he meant business. ‘I think you should write Cristiano a letter, containing the basic facts about Alexander’s birth and leaving the name of your solicitor where he can contact you. If he doesn’t acknowledge you at the party, you can leave it with a member of his staff and come home knowing that this time you really have done all you can.’

  Stunned into a moment’s silence, Kate blinked. ‘You’ve thought it all through, haven’t you?’

  ‘I’ve thought of nothing else since this damned invitation arrived.’

  ‘I haven’t got anything to wear.’

  Despite her defensively tensed shoulders, Dominic recognised the final protest of a woman who knew she was defeated. He felt a small glow of tentative triumph.

  ‘So buy something. I’ll look after the kids at the weekend, and you and Lizzie can hit the shops in Leeds.’

  ‘I can’t afford it,’ Kate protested weakly. ‘I’m a single parent, remember?’

  Reaching into the drawer again, Dominic took out his chequebook and began to scribble. Tearing it out, he handed a cheque to her with a grin. ‘Take this and buy something stunning, and hopefully you won’t be for much longer.’

  ‘It’s going to be quite a party.’

  Dr Francine Fournier looked up from the invitation in her hand and raised a perfectly shaped, brutally eloquent eyebrow. ‘I’m just sorry I can’t be there, but unfortunately tonight is—’

  ‘Please—there’s no need to explain.’ Cristiano got up from the chair and walked a few paces across the thick carpet of Dr Fournier’s consulting room before turning back to her with a bleak smile. ‘I think we both know that the whole thing is a complete sham. I wouldn’t be going myself if I had any choice.’

  Outside, the F
ebruary dusk was falling early over Nice, and a thin slick of rain made the pavements glisten. In here, the lamps cast a soft glow over serious seascapes in oil, and a huge bowl of white hyacinths on the desk perfumed the centrally heated air. There was nothing remotely clinical about the room apart from the lightbox on the wall with its illuminated display of cross-sections of Cristiano’s brain.

  Dr Fournier sighed, slipping the invitation inside the cover of the file of notes that lay open on the desk in front of her. ‘It’s not a sham, Cristiano,’ she said, in the grave, low-pitched voice she used for breaking bad news to families. ‘It’s just a little premature, perhaps.’

  ‘Premature?’ Cristiano echoed hollowly, thrusting his balled fists into his pockets and walking over to look more closely at the X-ray images, as if he might be able to see something in the intricate whorls and dark spaces that Dr Fournier had missed. ‘By how long? A year? A decade? A lifetime? Because, from what you’ve just told me, I’m never going to be able to race again.’

  Francine Fournier was forty-eight years old, and had been happily married to her second husband for six years. She was also one of Europe’s most senior and well-respected brain injury specialists, but, in spite of all these things, she still had to steel herself against the spark of attraction as she looked from the images of the inside of Cristiano Maresca’s head to the face of the man himself.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  The light from the X-ray box emphasised his pallor, and the lines of tension etched around his impossibly sexy mouth, but neither of those things detracted from his extraordinary good-looks.

  ‘Not in so many words,’ he said hoarsely. ‘But if you can’t find out what’s wrong with me and work out how to put it right, it amounts to the same thing.’

  ‘It’s not that simple, Cristiano. The good news is that you’re looking at a healthy brain. Those X-rays show that your recovery from the accident has been remarkably complete.’ She picked up the top sheet from the file and frowned slightly as she studied it. ‘All your stats are excellent—proving that your reflexes and responses far exceed those of the average fit male your age. My investigations have been exhaustive, and I can state categorically that there’s no physiological cause of the symptoms you’ve been having.’