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It sounded like a clichéd opening, except it was a line he had never used before. But she really intrigued him and he found he couldn’t help himself.
‘There’s really not much to tell.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘I work at a hairdresser’s.’
She told him the name of it And he shook his head. It was probably the kind of place a man like him would never set foot in.
‘Do you like it?’ he asked.
‘Some days.’
She popped a little ball of chocolate-dipped pastry into her mouth. Costa wondered whether it was to stop him from delving further, but he knew delaying tactics and waited till she had swallowed.
‘And are your family in London too?’ he enquired, before she could reach for more food.
‘I have no family,’ Mary said, and even as she lied she looked him right in the eye.
It was, in truth, a practised lie.
A necessary lie.
But that didn’t stop her feeling guilty each time she said it.
It had meant survival at school, and that had been confirmed when her boss, Coral, had warned her not to reveal that her father was in prison, so her response had become the norm. Anyway, this man did not need to know; he was making conversation, that was all.
‘None?’ Costa checked.
‘None,’ Mary said firmly, and took another sip of her drink. But she herself heard the slight rattle as she replaced the cup in its saucer.
Costa had noted it too, though his eyes did not move to her hands. Instead he watched the blink of her gorgeous blue eyes and she knew he didn’t believe her.
‘Is it hard being alone in the world?’ he asked. Then, as if taken aback by his own curiosity, immediately apologised. ‘Excuse me. I had no right to ask that.’
‘It’s fine.’ In fact, it was refreshing to be asked. ‘I guess I’m used to it, for the most part.’
‘What about the other parts?’
‘Other parts?’
She was about to offer a tight smile and reach for a white chocolate ball, except there was a gentleness to his questioning and he no longer seemed imposing, simply kind. He was patient too, for they sat in a gentle silence as she actually thought about those ‘other parts’. Yes, she had lied about not having a father, but this man in front of her had no right to the secrets of her heart.
And so she thought not so much about the emptiness of Christmas, nor the desperation of the unmarked birthday that had led her here tonight. No, Mary thought of the hollow ache of loneliness. The moments when she woke up in fright over a problem to be faced alone. How she had felt just a short while ago in the restroom as if she could simply disappear from the face of the earth unnoticed...
He watched her eyes finally lift to his. ‘I feel somewhat adrift.’
‘Adrift?’
‘It means—’
‘I know what it means,’ Costa said, for it was not the English he was having trouble comprehending.
‘Still...’ She gave him a smile then. ‘It means that I get to make my own choices...’
‘What were you doing with Ridgemont?’ he asked, and watched her rapid blink in response. ‘I have known him for many years and I’ve never once heard him described as a sweetheart—even I didn’t want to be here tonight.’
‘Then why were you?’ Mary asked.
