Page 46 of Deep Blue Sea

Adam nodded, comprehending her feelings for the spot where Julian had ended his life.

‘You know the company has a couple of apartments. For executives. I could set you up there with one phone call. I’m in one, in fact. They are quite nice. Just off the King’s Road. Hey, we’d be neighbours.’

‘But it wouldn’t be my home,’ said Diana, though she had to admit to herself that it sounded quite a nice idea. ‘Home is the best place for me right now.’

They both decided they needed a drink, and went into the café. The place was full of pretty, arty-looking girls, who gave Adam discreet second glances as he stood in the queue buying their two cups of coffee. Diana doubted they recognised him from the society pages, but there was something about him that made you want to look twice. He was certainly not as good-looking as Rachel’s diving colleague in Thailand, or as poised and elegant as Julian. Perhaps it was the way he filled out a suit, the glint in his eyes that promised fun, his easy, flirtatious charm as he talked to the waitress. He caught her looking at him and she glanced away.

The café was busy and it was a warm evening, which made sitting outside even more tempting. The gardens looked quite lovely. The summer sky was beginning to darken, casting long shadows around the courtyard, but light spilled out of the museum’s long windows, turning the central reflecting pool a thousand shades of bronze and gold.

Many of the tables around the perimeter were occupied. Adam found a single iron chair and took it to the edge of the water, beckoning Diana to sit on it, and then crouched down on the step by her feet.

‘Good cake,’ he said, tearing into a slice of banana loaf. ‘Want some?’

She shook her head and sipped her coffee.

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ pressed Adam, forcing her to take some. ‘Cake is one of life’s great pleasures.’

As the sleeve of his jacket brushed against her bare leg, she shivered. She closed her eyes and thought of Julian. The morning after his death, she had found an old, unwashed T-shirt of his, one that had been recently worn and had not yet been through the laundry, and she had slept with it until it no longer smelt of him, but of her own perfume, soap and sweat. It was one of a few things she had done to try and feel connected with him – looking at old photographs, listening to his favourite CDs – but right now, through physical contact with his brother, she felt closer to her husband than she had been since his death.

She opened her eyes and returned to the present. For a moment they were both quiet, as if they had run out of conversation.

‘Julian taught me how to swim,’ said Adam finally. ‘How to sail, how to tie a slip knot. Did you know I tie really good knots?’

‘He taught me a lot too. Too many things to even mention,’ she said, feeling her eyes well with tears. She touched Adam’s shoulder. ‘Thank you for being so good to me at the funeral.’

He nodded, as if the memory of that day was just too painful.

‘When’s the memorial service?’

‘Six weeks’ time. Elizabeth is after St Paul’s.’

‘Cathedral?’

‘Where else?’

‘Julian would have hated that.’

‘Clinton will be invited. And the Beckhams.’

‘But he’d have liked that,’ she smiled. Her husband had been a huge football fan, and considered Clinton a great political hero, despite his indiscretions.

‘How’s Rachel?’

‘You know she’s back in London . . .’

‘Good news travels fast.’

‘I need to know why he died.’

‘I know. She’s good,’ he said quietly. ‘Besides, if the last two weeks have taught us one thing, it’s that life’s too short to bear grudges.’

She was grateful for his words. Everyone else had made her feel as if she was wrong or weak or plain idiotic for welcoming her sister back into her life.

‘I’m sorry for calling you this morning.’

‘Sorry? What on earth for?’

‘When I said I had to see you. It was a bit dramatic. Sorry if I worried you; it’s just that I went to see a therapist this morning and she said I should be around people that make me smile.’