Page 83 of A Night with Damien Spur

Which was a relief. She was difficult to wean after he had turned off the heat.

‘So then?’ she said. ‘How about 7 p.m. tomorrow?’

‘That’s fine,’ Damien replied. ‘See you then,’ and he hung up.

What was the harm in it? He was proud of his prodigy.

‘Good for you,’ Elizabeth said, flicking his shoulder. ‘One last fling before she marries Justin. Do give her your best shot.’

There she goes again. Treating you like a gigolo, said the Voice.

***

The next evening Damien was pleased to see Anna looking so carefree. Money suited her.

‘Lovely to see you,’ she said. No pink lipstick or frills.White linen shirt and bootcut blue jeans, tan sandals. Hair shiny and loose. He kissed her cheek. She smelt different. Fresh, not the cloying musky rose she used to wear.

He knew that scent; jasmine and bergamot. He lingered. Gave her an extra kiss. Shut his eyes.

‘You smell nice.’ He scanned the room, which was an extension of Anna’s transformation. ‘Out with the old, in with Conran,’ he said, and flopped on the ivory linen sofa.

‘Your usual?’ Anna asked.

‘A bit of a change. Red, please. Given up the whisky. Elizabeth says it makes me angry.’

‘I don’t think she’s right for you, if you ask me.’

‘I’m not.’

‘But, Damien, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘I do. Come on, Anna, pour me some wine and come and sit down. I want to hear how you are.’

She poured him a glass from a crystal decanter and one for herself. Handing him the wine, she perched next to him and daintily plucked an olive from the Murano glass bowl standing on the coffee table.

‘Open wide,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, they’re pitted,’ she added with a cheeky grin, and popped it in his mouth.

‘Very witty,’ he said.

‘But seriously, Damien…’ She gazed prettily at him. ‘Isn’t it crazy to think that you chipping your tooth changed my life?’

‘That’s certainly true,’ he said, and gave her hand a fatherly pat. ‘I’m so glad that it worked out with your book and Justin.’

‘Amazing, really…’ She smiled. A confident grown-up smile. Not the one he knew – the usual coy little-girl, poor-me smile.

‘What’s amazing?’ Damien asked.

‘Well, I don’t want to sound vain, but here’s me at forty-three marrying a rich, handsome man who’s seven yearsyounger.’

He felt comfortable with her. Especially as she was getting married to someone else. Anna had suffocated him with her neediness. Always there. Ready and willing. No holds barred. Repeating herself every time she saw him: “Why can’t we live together?” And then she’d met Justin Baird. Who was happy to surrender. And yet… Damien could see she was still thrilled by him.

‘I can’t thank you enough for all your help,’ she said and, moving closer, gently stroked the back of his neck, which she knew he liked.

Best not to, said the Voice.Not a good idea to get her going.

‘And so, Anna, when’s the book signing?’ He shifted away from her sleek little body.

‘Next week at the children’s book fair in Oxford – I’m doing a reading.’ She shifted towards him again.

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