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‘Quiet places always make me nervous,’ he said, glancing around at the Old Master oils. ‘Particularly when we have all these eyes staring down at us.’
‘Let’s go somewhere else then,’ she said, feeling a dart of complicity between them.
‘How about China?’ he said, running his finger down the directions board and picking one at random. He put his hand on the small of her back and directed her downstairs towards the T. T. Tsui gallery, housing all the museum’s Far East artefacts. It was noisier down here. There was a pop-up bar in the foyer and an African band were playing something vibrant. Usually it would have represented everything Diana loved about London, but tonight it didn’t feel right. How dare all these people be having fun, enjoying life with a drink and an exotic soundtrack when she was still reeling from Julian’s death, still trying, but failing, to get her head round the idea that she would never see her husband again?
‘So how long are you staying in London for?’
For the past two years Adam had been based in New York, after he had taken up the role of president of the Denver Hotel Group. Julian had described it as the perfect job for his brother, who had struggled to find a niche for himself in the family company. Considered too irresponsible for a main board position, he had drifted around the outskirts of the company, doing event organising, PR and communications, until he had been seconded to the hotel division and found his groove. Twelve months earlier, Julian had told Diana with some pride that profits in Adam’s new division had increased by twenty-three per cent.
‘A while. Possibly permanently.’
‘Permanently? You’re leaving New York? Leaving the hotel division?’
‘I can work from Europe for now. It’s not a problem.’
‘But I thought you loved it in New York. You have that lovely house.’ He had just bought a beautiful brownstone in Brooklyn Heights, with views right over Manhattan, and no one would have enjoyed New York’s party scene and pretty girls more than Adam.
‘I do, but Dad says I’m going to have to step up to the plate.’
‘CEO?’ she said with surprise.
‘A comedown from president, I know.’ Another smile. ‘But there’s been a Denver at the head of the company since it was founded eighty years ago, and Dad wants it to stay that way,’ he continued with none of his usual verve and swagger.
‘Do you want it?’
‘I could never replace Julian.’
‘I didn’t mean that . . . I just always got the impression you never wanted the job.’
‘I don’t. Not really. Besides, Elizabeth is gunning for that gig, is probably lobbying the executive committee as we speak, none of whom are going to take me particularly seriously even if my father has a majority voting share in the business and suddenly goes mad and wants to give me the job. But, you know, maybe I need a project. I don’t mean the CEO’s job, but something big to get my teeth into. Something to help me forget.’
For a moment Diana forgot about her own grief and thought about Adam and Elizabeth; siblings were often overlooked in favour of partners and parents in the condolences pecking order.
‘What are you in town for?’ he asked more cheerfully, clearly wanting to change the subject.
‘I went to see Greg Willets with Rachel.’
‘How is he?’
‘He sent me a lovely note.’
‘I bet you’ve had a lot of those.’
‘But seeing him today made me feel a bit sad.’
‘Why?’ asked Adam, looking puzzled.
Diana knew it was the chance to articulate the feelings she had had at lunchtime with someone she trusted.
‘I worry that I’m not going to have an excuse to see people like Greg for very much longer, and I hate that, because I know that the second I stop seeing Julian’s friends, his colleagues, stop talking about him, is the second he really dies.’
‘Then keep seeing them, keep talking about him,’ replied Adam fiercely. ‘No one wants him to fade away. We won’t let him.’
‘It’s going to be hard keeping plugged in when I’m at Somerfold.’
‘Then you should come to London more often. Move back here. You’ve got the house in Notting Hill.’
‘I’m not moving back to that place.’
