Page 11

He turns away from me and takes his phone from his inside pocket, punching in a few numbers before holding it to his ear. ‘Cancel my appointments for the rest of the evening,’ he orders, and then hangs up, slipping his phone back into his jacket. He keeps his gaze forward for the rest of the journey, leaving me wondering what’s about to transpire over dinner. I know I’m about to hear things that I don’t want to, and I know there is nothing I can do to stop it.

The driver pulls the Lexus up to a small restaurant and opens the door for me. William nods, a wordless gesture to step out, which I do without a fuss, knowing it will get me nowhere to protest. Smiling at the driver, I wait for William to join me on the pavement and then watch as he buttons his jacket before placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me onward. The doors to the restaurant are opened for us and William greets almost everyone as we pass through. The awareness of his presence by other diners and the staff is powerful. He nods and smiles all the way until we’re being seated at a private table at the back, away from prying eyes and ears. A wine menu is handed to me by a smart waiter, and I smile my thanks as I take my seat.

‘She’ll have water,’ he orders. ‘And the usual for me.’ There’s no please or thank you. ‘I recommend the risotto.’ William smiles across the table at me.

‘I’m not hungry.’ My stomach’s in knots, a mixture of nerves and anger. I couldn’t possibly eat.

‘You’re bordering on emaciated, Olivia. Please let me have the satisfaction of watching you eat a decent meal.’

‘I have my nan to nag me about my weight. I don’t need you nagging, too.’ I place the menu on the table and take the glass of water that’s just been poured.

‘How is the formidable Josephine?’ he asks, accepting a tumbler of dark liquid from the waiter.

She wasn’t so formidable when William sent me back to her. I recall him referring to my grandmother on a few occasions during my reckless spell, but I was too blinkered by my determination back then to delve into the details of their acquaintance. ‘You knew her?’ Now I’m curious again, and I damn well hate being curious.

He laughs, and it’s a pleasant sound, all smooth and light. ‘I’ll never forget her. I was her first call each time Gracie performed one of her disappearing acts.’

The mention of my mother’s name stirs the bile in my stomach, but hearing about my grandmother makes me smile on the inside. She’s fearless, not intimidated in the least bit by anyone, and I know William wouldn’t have been an exception. His amused tone while talking of Nan is proof. ‘She’s well,’ I answer.

‘Still spunky?’ he asks with a slight smile on his lips.

‘More than ever,’ I answer, ‘but she wasn’t too good when you took me home that night seven years ago.’

‘I know.’ He nods in understanding. ‘She needed you.’

Regret cripples me, and I crumble within, wishing I could change how I reacted to the discovery of my mother’s journal and to my grandmother’s grief. ‘We got through it. She’s still spunky.’

He smiles. It’s a fond smile. ‘No one ever made me quake in my boots, Olivia. Only your grandmother.’ The idea of William quaking in his boots is ludicrous. ‘But she knew deep down that I could no less control Gracie than she or your grandfather could.’

William relaxes back in his chair and orders two risottos when the waiter presents himself.

‘Why?’ I ask once the waiter has scurried away again. This is a question I should have asked all those years ago. There are so many things I should have asked back then.

‘Why what?’

‘Why was my mother like that? Why couldn’t she be controlled?’

William visibly shifts in his seat, clearly made uncomfortable by my question, and his grey eyes are avoiding mine. ‘I tried, Olivia.’

I frown across the table at him, finding it strange seeing such a prolific male looking so awkward. ‘What?’

He sighs and rests his elbows on the table. ‘I should have sent her away sooner. Like I did you when I discovered who you were.’

‘Why would you send her away?’

‘Because she was in love with me.’ He watches for my reaction across the table, but he won’t find much because I’ve been stunned into blankness. My mum was in love with her pimp? Then why the hell did she put it about town? Why . . . Realisation descends quickly and halts my silent questions.

‘You didn’t love her,’ I whisper.

‘I loved your mother madly, Olivia.’

‘Then why—’ I sit back in my chair. ‘She was punishing you.’

‘Daily,’ he sighs. ‘Every f**king day.’

This isn’t what I expected. I’m totally confused. ‘If you loved each other, then why weren’t you together?’

‘She wanted me to do things that I simply couldn’t.’

‘Or wouldn’t.’

‘No, couldn’t. I had a responsibility. I couldn’t walk away from my girls and let them fall into the hands of some immoral bastard.’

‘So you walked away from my mum.’

‘And let her fall into the hands of an immoral bastard.’

I gasp, my eyes darting around the dimly lit restaurant, trying to comprehend what I’m being told. ‘You knew. I was looking for answers and you knew all along?’

His lips straighten and his nostrils flare. ‘You didn’t need to know the sordid details. You were a young girl.’