Page 33

He nodded.

‘But you were a baby.’ Now she sounded dismayed and awed at once.

He tilted his head from side to side as though weighing up what she’d said. ‘My father thought I was more than old enough. Turn you into a man, what?’ he said, affecting a blustering voice that mimicked his father.

‘Your mother could part with you?’

‘Apparently.’ He grinned. ‘Oh, she loved me, Valentina, don’t get me wrong. She was always sending me lots of lovely parcels, but

I think she preferred to love me from a distance rather than hugging me, making me feel safe.’

She narrowed her gaze at him. ‘I think you’re trying to tell me that I should be grateful to have a mother who does that.’

He smiled. ‘That’s because you’re so smart. You have a father who does that too.’

He saw her consider this, staring into the far distance where others were going about their business as best they could while there were no raids. This part of the city felt less ravaged and if he squinted, he could pretend it was whole.

‘I know my parents love me,’ she said eventually. ‘But I think they are too worried about protecting my future through money.’

‘It’s very natural, I think, for a father to want to do that.’

She shrugged. ‘I would prefer him to protect my heart. Allow me to marry someone I love and when the time feels right. Is that so much to ask?’

‘No, it’s not, but in your culture I suspect it’s important to him to have his daughter married well, securely and taken care of.’

‘Then I wish I lived in your culture,’ she said, matter-of-factly, her gaze landing back on him squarely.

‘You know, it’s not that different back home. Girls still want to make good marriages.’

‘Like Delia?’

He’d walked straight into that. ‘Yes, that would be fair to say.’

‘Who chose who?’

Her directness was breathtaking. No adult would speak this way to another – or certainly not in his circles. And the intensity of those dark eyes searching him for the truth meant that was what he gave. ‘Her mother chose me for her without either of us knowing.’

She stared at him aghast. ‘And you were fine with it?’

He gave a helpless, humourless chuckle. ‘Er… looking back now, no, not really.’ Why was he doing this? He’d never been this honest with anyone.

Her jaw visibly slackened. ‘I don’t understand.’

Peter shrugged. ‘Most mothers, perhaps anywhere, but certainly in England, would like to see their pretty daughters engaged by their early twenties at the latest.’

‘But why did you agree? I mean, you weren’t in love with her, so why go ahead with it?’

He felt caught. ‘Life’s complicated, Valentina. One day when⁠—’

‘Don’t say when I’m older,’ she warned him. ‘I’m old enough to understand the difference between wanting to be with someone and being forced to be with them.’

‘All right,’ he said gently. ‘I know you’re not a child,’ he lied, and then gathered his thoughts to explain. ‘Five years ago I was a bit lost, you could say. I had no close family and I was living alone – quite happily, I might add – in the big old house of my childhood. I was lecturing at the university and I was writing. I walked out with women but I never felt committed to any.’

She was watching him so intently, her gaze felt like it could penetrate to his soul.

‘And then war began. I joined the RAF, and I met Delia at some event. I thought she was with another fellow, so I didn’t pay much attention.’ He sighed. ‘I was receiving attention from a lot of people – as was everyone in uniform about to fly off into who knew what. I’d met her brother during training. Her family, including him, were at this function and that’s how I was introduced.’ He shook his head as the memory returned vividly. ‘Her mother was the one who took an interest in me. I suppose she did some homework and decided I might just be the right catch for her daughter.’

‘Why? What was wrong with the man Delia was already with?’