Page 15 of The Love Letter

‘I want.’

Flashbulbs popped as they walked into the foyer, which was buzzing with the usual first-night mixture of soap stars, comedians and those famous simply for being famous. Zoe accepted a glass of wine from a tray and glanced around nervously. He’d obviously not arrived yet.

Sam, the director, pounced on her and kissed her enthusiastically. ‘Darling, sorry about poor Sir James. I would have come to his memorial service, but I was horribly caught up with all this.’

‘Don’t worry, Sam. It was for the best. He was very poorly towards the end.’

‘Grief suits you, Zoe.’ Sam looked at her admiringly. ‘You look stunning tonight. There’s a real buzz about the film, and doing this royal charity premiere was a stroke of genius by the PR people. We’ll get oodles of newspaper coverage tomorrow, especially with you in that dress.’ He kissed her hand and smiled. ‘Enjoy, darling. See you later.’

Zoe turned round; Marcus – despite her plea – had disappeared. ‘Damn!’ She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her, making her head spin. And decided she had every right to behave in a cowardly and immature way. So she went and hid in the ladies’ toilet, trying to calm her thumping heart. Just as the lights went down in the cinema, she crept into her seat next to Marcus.

‘Where did you get to?’ he hissed.

‘The loo. I’ve got the runs.’

‘Charming,’ he sniffed, as the opening credits began to roll.

Zoe sat through the film in a daze. The thought thathewas here, in the auditorium, possibly only a few yards away from her, breathing the same air as her for the first time in over ten years, sent such confusing, intense shafts of emotion through her that she doubted she’d make it to the end of the film without passing out. After all this time of telling herself it was some kind of adolescent fixation, she had to admit now that those sharp, deep feelings had still not left her. She’d used Jamie as an excuse for the lack of boyfriends in her life, not wanting to unsettle him with a string of different men. But tonight, Zoe knew she’d only been fooling herself.

And how exactly do you exorcise a ghost from the past?she asked herself.You meet it straight on and look it deep in the eyes. If she was ever to free herself from his invisible grasp, she had to destroy the fantasy that she had built up in her mind over the years. Meeting him again in the flesh, studying him for signs of imperfection, was the only hope of a cure. Besides, there was every chance he would have forgotten who she was by now. It had been a long time ago and he met so many people, especially women.

The lights came up with a roar of applause. Zoe gripped the seat with her hands, holding herself in it so she would not run away. Marcus kissed her cheek and squeezed her arm tightly.

‘You were great, sis, seriously. Want a part in my new film?’ he added.

‘Thanks.’ Zoe sat paralysed as those around her began to make their way out of the auditorium, all her earlier resolution leaving her.

‘Shall we go straight home? My stomach really isn’t good,’ she said as they finally stood up and followed the crowd outside.

‘Surely you need to glad-hand for a bit? Suck up the praise? I was chatting to Jane Donohue whilst I was waiting for you to reappear from the loo and we agreed to meet at the after-party.’

‘Marcus, you promised! Take me home now, please. I’m really not well.’

‘Okay,’ he sighed. ‘I’ll just go and find Jane to explain.’

Zoe stood in the crowd, counting the seconds until Marcus returned and she could leave. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder.

‘Zoe?’

She turned round, and felt the blood rush to her face. There he was, looking a little older, with a few creases beneath his warm green eyes, laughter lines etched into the skin on either side of his mouth. But his body seemed as trim in his dinner suit as it had been more than a decade ago. She gazed at him, thirstily drinking in every detail.

‘How are you?’

She cleared her throat. ‘Well, thank you.’

‘You look . . . stunning. You’re even more beautiful than you were.’ He spoke in hushed tones, leaning forward slightly to reach her ear. She smelt his scent, so familiar and frighteningly intoxicating. ‘And I enjoyed the film, by the way. I thought you were excellent.’

‘Thanks,’ she managed.

‘Sir . . .’ A grey-suited man appeared next to him and indicated his watch.

‘I’ll be along in a few minutes.’

The grey suit melted back into the crowd.

‘It’s been so long,’ he said wistfully.

‘Yes.’