She held up the glass of wine so that the firelight played through it, turning it ruby red.
‘What’s your best memory?’
‘What?’
‘You must have a good memory. A place you go to when everything else is shite.’
He raised himself on one elbow, staring at her curiously. ‘Sounds as if you have one, at least. Tell?’
Bella smiled reminiscently. ‘My grandmother Georgia’s birthday one year. You will –’ she corrected herself ‘– may like my grandmother Georgia. She made us all go for a huge walk, so my parents couldn’t argue. And then my brother and I got to recite things she’d taught us. Neill had “Lord Lundy” but she said I was too young for politics, so I had to do a bit of Winnie-the-Pooh. She’s a tough cookie, my grandmother.’
‘And …?’
‘My mother laughed and so did my father and they both said we were wonderful and my father took photographs. And then I knocked over some sodding enormous Chinese urn with a massive spiky plant in it and they all laughed even harder.’
‘Was this when your father told you not to be an actress?’
She was momentarily side-tracked. ‘Did I tell you that? I’d forgotten.’
‘I hadn’t,’ he said, his mouth full of pepperoni pizza.
‘And then my grandmother said it was too late to go home and everyone had had too much to drink to drive, and we all stayed the night in this little pub. Wales, I think it was. They only had three rooms, so my brother and I had to share. And he decided that I was too little to be left up there on my own while they all had grown-up dinner, so he came and read me a story. It was something he was learning at school. Might have been Dickens. I don’t know. I just remember falling asleep to this exciting story and the grown-ups talking away downstairs as if they liked each other. There were oak beams in the ceiling and creaky floors and the smell of furniture polish and summer …’
She stopped.
‘Am I making sense?’
His eyes were warm. ‘Lots of sense.’
She held up the glass again, looking at him through the firelit wine. ‘Your turn.’
He put his wine glass down and stretched out, looking into the fire.
‘A good memory? My first climb, I suppose.’
It was so unexpected, she lowered the glass and stared at him blankly.
He was rueful. ‘I got into terrible trouble. For the first time ever.’
She was even more confused. ‘Your best memory is getting into trouble?’
‘No, of course not. Especially as everyone else involved was carpeted too. I never wanted to get anyone into trouble. But I suffered from congenital good behaviour. Still do, I suppose. And it was such a great feeling.’
She was intrigued. ‘How old were you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Eleven, twelve. Not old enough or strong enough, anyway. But I’ve always liked climbing things. And this father of a school friend said that if I was going to climb anyway, I’d better learn how to do it properly.’
‘You climb?’
‘Anything that goes up high enough,’ he said serenely. ‘Rocks. Mountains. Masts. I’m a reasonable sailor but that’s always the best part of it for me, climbing the mast in a brisk wind. There are several good walls in assorted palaces, too. I’ve been up most of ’em. But you never forget that first climb, when you actually get to the top and don’t give up. I scrambled up this bit of scree in Skye. I remember standing on the top with my head in the clouds. It felt as if I could do anything.’
‘Good heavens.’
He picked up his wine again and slugged it back, looking into the fire, as logs shifted and fell apart.
‘You know what’s really sad? When most people feel like that, they say they feel like a king.’
‘So?’
A muscle was working in his jaw. Bella wanted to reach out and calm it, but somehow she thought that this was something he needed to tell himself, not her.
‘Well?’ she prompted gently.
‘My father’s been King most of my life. I don’t think he’s ever felt like that. And neither will I when—’ He broke off. ‘Hell. We’re not supposed to be talking about bloody families. I want to know about you.’
Bella punched a couple of cushions, and took the glass away from him. She set it down carefully on the hearth.
‘My pleasure. Let me introduce you to my very smart new kimono. Gift of my friend Lottie. For some reason they’ve put a