area. She had stored away the fragments of memory, the tactless comments people had sometimes made, and most of all the vicious headlines from the newspapers. Harry Kingdom had been fodder for gossip and scandal long before the Internet age. It was not the sort of thing Lizzie wanted to read and it had left her with the fierce belief that it was easier, safer, to be self-reliant and keep away from complications.
Alessandro shrugged. ‘It’s true. You and Dudley, you want different things. It’s not a good combination and it means you are bad for each other.’ He looked away as though weighing whether or not to say anything else; then he sighed. ‘Dudley does care for you, I think. It’s sweet, but he also wants to use you. You’re more successful than he is, on the way up…’ He shrugged again. ‘You know how ambitious Dudley is. Whereas you…’ He took her by the shoulders, his gaze searching her face. ‘I’m not sure what you want from him, Lizzie,’ he said slowly. ‘You care for him too. I realise that, and you’re very loyal to him. But you’re too good for him. He doesn’t deserve you.’ His hands fell to his side. ‘Cazzo! This is none of my business. I should just shut up.’
Lizzie’s lips twitched. ‘I’m not sure what “Cazzo” means, Al, but I get the general gist.’ She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Thank you. I know you mean well. You’re such a good friend.’
Alessandro shook his head, said something else in Italian that she didn’t understand, and wandered off to pick up his bag, giving her a casual wave as he went out. Lizzie felt bad, as though she had trivialised his kindness to her.
‘Lizzie.’ Kat, as ever, was at her elbow. ‘The car’s waiting.’
‘Thank you, Kat.’ Lizzie tried to shake off her dark mood but she could feel it dogging her steps as she went outside. So many people disliked Dudley. They didn’t understand. It felt as though her friendship with him was always under siege. She knew that Dudley had ruffled some feathers in the carving out of his career, but so had most people. It was part of the business. There were journalists he had insulted and paparazzi whose cameras he had broken. There was a long line of bar and hotel staff across London and the world who had had to clear up after his excesses. He could be short-tempered and impatient to the point of rudeness. He made fun of people he didn’t like and because he was clever, he could also be cruel. It was no wonder that some parts of the media were taking this opportunity to crucify him. She didn’t like it but she could understand it. She wasn’t blind to Dudley’s faults. She knew he could be selfish and self-seeking. In a tiny corner of her heart she was almost prepared to admit that perhaps Bill and Alessandro were right and Dudley did use their friendship for his own advancement.
She stared unseeingly at the London landmarks as they sped past. To her, Dudley was also the boy of eight who had been the first, the only person, to speak to Lizzie when she had arrived, grief-stricken and alone, at her new school. Her mother had died, she had hated the world and been horribly rude and prickly, but somehow Dudley had understood that and had tolerated her. He had helped her with her homework until she caught up with the rest of the class and then she helped him because she was as clever if not cleverer than he was. He was interested in mathematics; Lizzie had preferred languages. They had been friends ever since. How long ago it all seemed now.
She remembered how she had felt when Dudley had met Amelia. They had had a whirlwind romance and married and Lizzie had been riven with jealousy and fear to start with: fear that she would lose one of the few lasting relationships of her life. But as it had turned out, nothing had really changed. Dudley still hung out with her. They still talked about anything and everything. Soon Amelia had moved to Oakhangar Hall whilst Dudley lived most of the time in London. It had felt almost as though Amelia did not exist.
Lizzie shifted uncomfortably on the seat. The feelings she had for Dudley were deep-rooted and important to her but they were completely devoid of sexual desire. Not once in their