to go out again.’
‘Oh, then I’d better be going.’
‘Nonsense. We haven’t looked at the picture yet. I really do want to know what you were thinking and feeling when you painted it.’
She had hoped he’d forgotten it. ‘But this is Penny’s home. Should we…?’
‘She won’t mind. In fact she’d be annoyed if I didn’t entertain you.’ He disappeared into the kitchen again and came back with an opened bottle of white wine and two glasses. ‘I found this in the refrigerator, it should be all right.’ He poured two glasses and left them on mats on a coffee table before coming to stand in front of her. ‘Come on, let’s have that headgear off, and that jacket. We can’t study the picture and make comparisons with you dressed like that.’ He pulled off her cloche hat and flung it on a chair, then slipped her jacket off and hung it over the back of another chair. ‘This too.’ He turned her to face him and gently removed the tie. His fingers, coming into contact with her throat, sent a frisson of something that was half pleasure, half fear, and she wondered what was coming next. If he made another attempt to seduce her what would she do? He smiled, as if reading her thoughts. ‘That’s better. Now you look human again.’
‘Shouldn’t you be going home? Won’t Dodo be wondering where you are?’
‘No, she’s filming up in Yorkshire. I was supposed to be spending the evening with Penny, but as you see, she’s stood me up. Not that I mind when I have such a marvellous substitute.’
An uncomfortable feeling of disquiet, which had begun when she realised Penny was not at home, grew almost to panic. ‘Simon, I really think I should go…’
He grinned ruefully. ‘Oh, dear, the real Barbara has disappeared again, just when I thought we might get another sighting.’
‘Oh, that silly game…’
‘It’s not a game, Barbara,’ he said, drawing her towards the picture on the wall opposite the Adam fireplace. ‘Look at that.’
‘What about it? It’s nothing very special.’
‘Oh, yes it is. Very special. Look at that girl’s face. Can’t you see it?’
‘Me? No. It’s your imagination.’
He turned her about so that she was looking in the mirror over the mantelpiece, seeing her own reflection beside that of the picture. ‘Now tell me those are not your eyes, that’s not your chin and mouth. It’s a self-portrait.’
She turned away to pick up her wine and took a mouthful. It was very cold and refreshingly dry. ‘It wasn’t intentional.’
‘No, perhaps not. But it’s what those eyes are saying that I find so fascinating. How did you manage to convey so much bleakness, so much emptiness without them looking lifeless and blank? They don’t, you know. There is life there. It is crying out to be recognised.’
She gave a cracked laugh. ‘Simon, that’s fanciful. Eyes are eyes. It’s the structure around them, the brows and skin tones, that make the expression. And the mouth.’
‘The mouth. Well, I could go on about the mouth too. Smiling and yet not smiling. Oh, it is turned up at the corners; it even shows the teeth a little, but it is a sad mouth. It makes me want to do something about it.’
‘Do?’ she asked in alarm.
He lifted his hand and gently traced the outline of her mouth with the side of his forefinger. ‘I want to see this happy again.’
‘I am happy.’
‘Are you? Then come and sit down and tell me how you are happy.’
‘How?’ she asked, allowing him to draw her to the sofa to sit beside him. She was in a kind of daze, aware there was some truth in what he said, wondering how he could be so perceptive. It wasn’t the picture – or she didn’t think it was – he was using that as a way of illustrating what he meant.
‘Yes. Tell me exactly what makes you happy.’
‘My children, my home, my friends, my husband…’
‘I notice your husband wasn’t first on the list.’
‘I didn’t put them in any particular order. Simon, why are you interrogating me?’
‘I want to find the real Barbara underneath that…’ He indicated her brown skirt and plain blouse, ‘disguise.’
She laughed shakily. ‘It isn’t a disguise, unless wanting to look practical and efficient, when I’m nothing of the sort, is a disguise.’
‘Why did you put them on in the first place?’
‘I told you, I was on duty.’
‘I didn’t mean today.’ He poured more wine. ‘I meant why did you start doing this so-called duty?’
‘I told