Page 71 of Secrets at the Little Music Shop

‘Ever,’ Rosie put in.

‘She didn’t even tell me she was expecting until I met her in the shop a couple of weeks before—’ His eyes raised ceilingwards. ‘Didn’t even tell me then, actually, I just, kind of deduced.’

‘I was the size of a bungalow. He couldn’t have missed it.’

‘And then, of course, I offered to pay but Rosie wouldn’t have it. Said that I’d hardly been present at the conception, it wasn’t really worth my while being present for the baby. But I — well. I love Oscar so much, I didn’t want this chap . . . Harry to miss out on a dad, so I — well, I’ve been getting together with Rosie just for updates and suchlike and also . . .’ Alex tailed off, scuffed a foot on the carpet, looking every inch the prep-school boy he’d no doubt once been.

‘He gives me stuff. Food, nappies, that kind of thing. Just to help out.’ Rosie shook her head. ‘I’d sort of convinced myself that Harry was some kind of immaculate conception. I don’t remember the sex. But Alex was so keen on doing the right thing. He’s even been taking me over to Blandford to look over the place.’

‘You were going to send him to the same school as Oscar?’ Saskia looked aghast. I wasn’t sure if it was because she thought Harry would lower the tone or whether it was some bizarre taboo in Upper-Class-Land.

Alex looked more shamefaced, which was nearly impossible; his expression almost reached his knees as it was. ‘We would have had to put his name down before his first birthday, so I wanted Rosie to see what the place was like.’

‘It’s very nice,’ she put in. ‘And Oscar does like Harry.’

‘Oscar knows?’

‘Good God, no. Look Sas.’ Alex tilted her chin down so that she looked him in the eye. ‘Rosie and I — there never was a Rosie and me. We’ve been trying to deal with the repercussions as best we could without anyone getting hurt. I’m not sorry you found out, but I am sorry that you feel so betrayed. I do love you, I always have.’ Then, after a pause. ‘But maybe counselling might be a good idea?’

Ben, Jason and I repaired to the kitchen to allow the three of them to talk more privately.

‘Anyone else think they’re protestin’ way, way too much?’ Jason asked succinctly, around a rich tea biscuit.

‘Yes, but they’re obviously happy to have it over. Maybe they only carried it on for something to do, some kind of physical connection. After all, Saskia hardly looks like she’s handing out the cuddles on a nightly basis, and life must be pretty lonely for Rosie sometimes. Maybe they both got caught up in the excitement of being illicit. Alex obviously loves Saskia.’ Ben looked at the closed door. ‘And she must love him to have done all those shitty things to you. I guess she wanted you both to pack up and leave, so she’d got him to herself again.’

‘You look happy, Jason. Family conflict turns you on, does it?’ I eyeballed him sternly.

‘Nah. But now things are out in the open, it all works for me. Rosie told me, yeah, that she wanted to go public with everything but she couldn’t risk Sas taking the work away. So she had to put up and shut up and she wouldn’t go to the States with me ’cos it would mean taking Hazzer away from his dad.’

‘It still would.’

‘Yeah, but now Sas knows, Alex could fly over and visit or be there at the end of the phone. Now, just maybe, she’ll start making a new life that isn’t full of secret rendyvooz.’

‘With you?’ Ben looked square at Jason and raised his eyebrows. I gathered that Jason and Rosie had been the subject of some Man-Talk.

‘Hope so.’ Jason gave a grin. ‘I really hope so.’

‘Yeah. Secrets are no basis for a relationship.’ There was an edge to the way Ben looked at me. ‘Let’s go home, Jem.’

‘Oho, please excuse my presence,’ Jason exclaimed. ‘You two want to do the nasty thing, you just carry on.’

I was feeling a bit shaken. Saskia’s meltdown had reinforced my opinion that love meant you left yourself open. ‘Yes. Let’s go.’

Ben gave me that look again, joggling the car keys from hand to hand. ‘Come on.’ He dipped his head to whisper in my ear. ‘Let’s get away from the high drama.’

Jason winked at me and mouthed ‘ice cubes’, then helped himself to another biscuit.

Chapter Twenty-Two

We made love slowly, stretched out on the huge bed in the attic, surrounded by printed sheets of music and lit by a single streetlamp. Ben’s room was like him, rumpled and spare, full of half-written tunes and as colour-co-ordinated as a litter of kittens. His skin, barred with light from beyond the blinds, was cool over mine, his eyes were black, then yellow as he moved over me, into the beam and then back into shadow, staring into my face as though he was waiting to see my soul rise.

‘Jem,’ he was breathing my name. ‘Jem. You and me . . .’ I opened my mouth to reply but he pressed his lips to mine to cover the words, and then it was too late to speak. Too late for anything but mounting heat and motion that built until I was catching at his back with my nails and stammering meaningless syllables while he raised himself above me and groaned my name. He held his weight on his arms a moment longer, then let himself slide so that our faces were level once more. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

‘Mmmm?’ I could hardly bring myself to talk now. It was so easy here to forget the doubts. My arms and legs were heavy and my head was drowsily full of the sense of his closeness. I wanted to lie here and just enjoy the feeling while it lasted. ‘What about?’

Ben propped himself up, his face animated. ‘How would you feel . . . I can’t believe I’m about to say this . . . if, maybe, we could, you know . . .’

‘No. No idea, I’m afraid. How many syllables?’

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