Far to Go - By Alison Pick Page 0,53

well as his. A train meant escape. The possibility of leaving. That forlorn sound that the whistle unspooled, as it drifted out across the dark countryside, seemed so lonesome, and yet so right. It was the exact sound of the emptiness in the centre of her being, like waking up and crying out in the middle of the night and hearing another sadness call back.

“Close family?” Pavel asked. He looked to her for confirmation and she shook her head almost imperceptibly: No. Something in the gesture must have told him not to push any further. “What about boyfriends? A pretty girl like you.” There was a sly look on his face, the start of a grin, and she saw he was teasing her, that she could get away without answering. But instead she said, “No. I’ve never . . .”

“Never. Really,” Pavel said mildly. He squinted, his eyes on the road.

They were quiet for a while, Marta reassuring herself: certainly Ernst didn’t count as a boyfriend. So it wasn’t a lie she’d told. Not exactly.

The countryside receded and buildings reappeared, first just a few and then many. The city was coated in a soft blanket of snow. When they got to the flat Pavel hopped out and opened the gate. He got back in and rode the clutch into the garage. He pulled the hand brake and punched the button that turned the lights off. But he made no move to get out of the car.

In the back little Pepik was still soundly asleep, his head bent back at an odd angle against the seat.

Pavel turned to Marta. He gave her a piercing look, his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry about Mrs. Bauer,” he said.

“Sir?”

“The way she behaved this morning.”

Something inside Marta tightened, like the lid on a Mason jar. It had been such a lovely day; why did he have to go and tarnish it like this? She was enjoying the chance to talk with Pavel—one on one, two adults—but the only way she could allow herself the intimacy was to put Anneliese out of her mind entirely. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

He looked at her tenderly, or at least with an expression she took for tenderness. “And that,” he said, “is why we adore you.”

Marta’s breath quickened; she could not force herself to meet his eyes. But Pavel continued, as though he were speaking not to her but to himself. “You’re loyal,” he said. “Which is—” He paused, nodding. “—not something to be taken for granted.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bauer,” she said, but she was confused by the remark. She had the sense that he was referring not to her character but some other event she wasn’t aware of.

“I don’t take your loyalty for granted,” he said again, meeting her eye. “I appreciate . . . many things about you.”

The space in the car seemed to have shrunk; Marta was aware of the proximity of her body to Pavel’s, of the musky smell of the leather blanket in the back seat, and of Pavel’s hand resting lightly on the gearshift just an inch or two away. She looked down at it, and his gaze followed hers. They were still for a moment, both of them looking at the hand. Then she watched—it really was like something from a dream—she watched him lift it and place it, ever so lightly, on her leg.

Marta couldn’t speak; then she realized she wouldn’t need to. Pavel had opened his mouth first. “I wanted—” he said. But he stopped, and she saw he was looking at her face—she could see his eyes circling her forehead, studying her nose, her dimple—and then he leaned forward and kissed her.

She was so taken aback that it was a moment before her body registered the sensation. His mouth was warm and his lips felt full and hot. The slight taste of cocoa. There was a glimmer of his tongue and she felt a pang low in her belly, a sharp tug like nothing she had felt there before. She waited to feel herself stiffen and pull back, but she felt a different sensation instead—she wanted, she realized, for him to continue.

But Pavel drew away. He looked at her again with that same tenderness and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear. Then he leaned in one more time. A short, firm finish to the kiss. It was as if he had come to a decision, she thought, and this was his way