Page 53 of Deep Blue Sea

‘Don’t be silly. I hope you’ve not driven all this way to apologise for that.’

‘No, I’ve driven all the way here to see if you’d like to come for lunch.’

‘I should probably get dressed then.’ She smiled slowly.

‘Yeah – I’m not sure how well white towelling would go down on Vogue’s best-dressed list.’

She felt her cheeks colour.

‘Shoes. Wear running shoes.’

‘Where are we going? The athletics track?’

‘It’s a surprise. I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.’

Diana pulled on some jeans, a short-sleeved bottle-green cashmere top and a pair of trainers.

‘Where are you two heading off to?’ asked Sylvia with evident curiosity.

‘Apparently we’re going running.’

‘In cashmere?’ said her mother with surprise.

It was late morning and the sun was climbing in preparation for another warm day. Diana couldn’t remember an unbroken string of sunny days like it, and whilst she knew that the weather would never be able to shift her grief, the feeling of the sun on her face was a good one. Of strength and of hope.

‘How were the Qataris?’

‘We’ve got a deal.’

‘Then I’m glad we didn’t go clubbing.’

Adam’s car was parked on the drive. It was a beauty, one that Julian, with his own collection of vintage Ferraris, had himself coveted. A 1960s convertible Aston Martin. Diana considered it a James Bond car and always thought it suited its owner perfectly.

‘I thought you had this shipped to America.’

‘No, it’s been at my parents’.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, stroking the silver paintwork.

‘There’s no better way of getting from A to B than in this baby,’ he grinned.

‘So where’s B?’

‘I thought we’d drive to the coast. Figured some sea air might do us good.’

‘The sea is quite a long way from here, you know,’ she said, climbing into the passenger seat.

‘Well I haven’t got any plans for the rest of the day, unless you have.’

They took the back roads to the coast, threading through south Oxfordshire, Wiltshire and down into Dorset, through quaint, gorgeous countryside that Adam described as Hardy country. The roof of the car was down so that the sun warmed Diana’s shoulders, and the wind blew her hair out in a ribbon behind her head and rattled around their ears so that they did not need to talk.

Perhaps it was what they both needed – time out to clear their heads. It was good to get out of the house, somewhere far away, some place that Diana hadn’t been before, unconnected with memories of Julian. She was loath to admit it to herself, but she had not lived a very big life since she moved to Somerfold. The house was enormous, but her horizons had compressed to a very small and confined space. The renovations had taken up the first eighteen months of her time there, but when they were completed there had been very little to occupy her time, other than trips to a Pilates studio in Henley, a photography course in the village and the occasional visit to London to see friends who all seemed to have moved on with their lives since she had left Notting Hill. The irony that she had left London to live a more fulfilled life, only to have it replaced by a gilded cage, wasn’t lost on her.

After two hours, they stopped at a pub on the outskirts of Abbotsbury. Diana’s face cracked open with a smile as she saw the glittering sea in front of her.

‘The coast,’ she said with glee as she looked out over a long finger of shingle.

‘There’s nearer coastline to your house, but nothing as special as this,’ said Adam, opening the car door for her with impeccable manners.