Starburst (15 page)

Tess swallowed hard. “No, I don’t want you to do that.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Ah, yes, of course. We certainly don’t want the director to find out about our little affair. That could make your life very difficult.”

“And yours too.”

“Not really. Alasdair knows the way I am, but maybe he would think it rather unprofessional of you.”

“Are you saying you would tell him?”

Peter laughed. “Of course not. It’s just that if I have to take more formal action to arrange a simple dinner date with you, well then, it might put you in a bit of a predicament, don’t you think?”

Tess stared at him for a moment. “That’s as good as blackmail.”

Peter frowned. “Oh, I hope nothing so serious as that, surely, but I think it does prove how much I want to see you again.”

Needing time to consider her options, Tess turned her head and fixed her eyes on a young female street performer who was juggling with three blazing torches whilst standing on the shoulders of two worried-looking young men she had obviously pulled out of the crowd. God, Tess thought, the girl’s not the only one playing with fire here. She had been right in saying that Peter’s proposal was as good as blackmail, but then again, she had brought it upon herself. There was really only one option open to her. Have dinner with the man and finish it for good, and then neither Allan nor Sir Alasdair Dreyfuss need ever be the wiser.

She turned back to Peter. “All right, we’ll have dinner.”

Peter’s face registered victory. “I’m so glad to hear it. When shall it be, then?”

Tess took her diary from her handbag and flipped through the pages. She shook her head. “This week’s out. It’ll have to be either next Tuesday or Wednesday.”

Peter nodded. “Okay, I’ll call you.”

“No, I’ll do the calling.”

“You still have my number?”

“If you haven’t changed it.”

Peter shot her a knowing wink. “No, it’s exactly the same.”

Tess glanced at her watch. “Dammit, this is ridiculous. I’m so late.” She drained her coffee, pushed back her chair and stood up, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. Peter got to his feet at the same time. She made a move to walk back up the High Street before turning back to glare with hostility at her exlover. “The dinner next week will be the last, Peter.”

“In that case, we will have to celebrate it in style.” He came round the table, hoping to bid her an affectionate farewell, but she had already gone.

As soon as Angélique Pascal entered the vast function room of the Sheraton Grand that evening, she was sure she would not be wanting to leave Albert Dessuin’s side during the course of the event. As she descended the wide carpeted steps to the crowded floor, she felt three hundred pairs of inquiring eyes turn to look at her and reacted to it by putting out a hand to grasp her manager’s arm for reassurance. She shyly returned the smiles that were beamed her way as Albert led her through the parting crowd to a small group gathered by the window. A thin, studious man with black-rimmed spectacles and wearing a dark blue suit that looked decidedly crumpled detached himself from the group and came towards Albert and Angélique with his hand outstretched.

“Albert, I am sorry. I never saw you enter. Welcome to Edinburgh.” He shook Albert’s hand, and then turned to his charge. “Angélique, what a pleasure it is to meet you at last. I’m Alasdair Dreyfuss, director of the International Festival.” He gave her a light kiss on the cheek and she turned her head, expecting the second, but the man was already walking back towards the group. “Come on over and I’ll introduce you to some of my colleagues, and then I’ll organize some drinks for you. Right, this is our marketing director, Sarah Atkinson…”

Angélique listened to the introductions, but she did not catch any of them, as the man spoke English too fast, a trend that seemed to be set thereafter. Whenever a question was asked of her, she turned to Albert and he answered on her behalf, turning to smile at her every time as if to say, “So who thought she could manage without me, then?” It made her determined to try to understand so that she could answer at least one question for herself, but the noise in the room was deafening, and no matter how hard she concentrated, she could not pick up the gist of one single conversation. After three quarters of an hour of listening to unintelligible words being spoken to her, she suddenly felt very tired, realizing now Albert had been right in saying to the journalist at the airport that they would be drained of all energy by the time the reception was finished. She looked around the function room and noticed a small recess over by the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Squeezing Albert’s arm and gesturing with a finger for him to lean over, she whispered in his ear that she was going to look out of the window for a few minutes. He nodded his approval and she moved quickly over to the recess, her head down, in case someone else should take the opportunity of engaging her in yet another incomprehensible discourse.

The recess was luckily much deeper than she had imagined, a twenty-foot carpeted passage that ended at a wall on which a large gilt-framed mirror was hung. Finding herself completely hidden from those in the function room, Angélique crossed her arms and leaned against the window, looking down onto the bustling crowds and the slow-moving traffic in the street below. As she then turned her gaze to the huge dark-stoned castle sitting high above the city, she let out a long, lingering yawn.

“You must be exhausted,” a female voice said.

Angélique turned to see a girl approach her tentatively along the passage. She was carrying two glasses of champagne in her hands.

“I saw you didn’t have anything to drink,” she said, handing Angélique a glass.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at the girl. She had noticed her before at the back of the group when Albert had greeted the festival director, and it had occurred to Angélique at the time that they must have been about the youngest two people in the room. Although the girl was a few years older than herself, Angélique had immediately liked the way she looked. Her close-cropped brown hair framed an honest, happy face, and she was dressed quite informally in comparison with the other women at the reception, in a light red wrap-around dress over a black polo-necked sweater and blue jeans.

“I’m sorry, we weren’t introduced,” the girl said, offering a small light-skinned hand. “I’m Tess Goodwin. I work in the International office.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Tess,” Angélique said, shaking her hand.

“You speak English very well. I’m afraid my French is almost nonexistent. Languages were never my strong point at school.”

“Oh, my English is not so good, and I find it very difficult when there are many people in a room,” Angélique said, casting her eyes along the corridor from where the noise of the reception boomed. “I cannot concentrate enough.” She took a sip from her glass and looked out of the window. “Edinburgh is a very beautiful city, I think. Do you come from here?”

“No, I’m originally from Aberdeen, which is much further north, but I live and work here now.” Tess stepped closer to the window, her eyes searching above the roofs of the buildings to one side of the large square in front of the hotel. She pointed a finger. “Do you see the church spire there?”

Angélique nodded.

Tess smiled at her. “I was married there five months ago.”

“How wonderful for you!” Angélique exclaimed with genuine excitement. “I think you must be a very happy person, then.”

Tess laughed. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“What is your husband’s name?”

“Allan.”

“I like the name
Alain,
” Angélique remarked decisively, giving the name its French pronunciation. “It is very strong, very…er…the French word is
sûr.
”

Tess grimaced embarrassedly. “I can only guess at something like ‘dependable’?

“Yes,” Angélique replied with a confirming nod of her head. “That is exactly right. Does
Alain
work in Edinburgh, too?”

Tess studied the interest in Angélique’s face. She was really beginning to warm to the open friendliness of this young celebrity whom she had only seen before on television, hiding her face from the cameras. “Yes, here and in Glasgow. He’s just recently been promoted in his company, so he’s having to work very long hours.” She gazed out of the window, her mind caught up with the clandestine arrangement she had made with Peter Hansen only hours before. “We don’t see much of each other at the moment.”

Angélique screwed up her nose. “That is very hard for you both,
n’est-ce pas?
”

Tess turned and smiled at the girl. “Very. We didn’t actually even have time to go on a honeymoon for that very reason.”

“
Oh, ça c’est triste!
But you will go eventually, will you not?”

“Yes, once the festival is over and done with. We’re going to Barbados for two weeks.”

“Ah, I believe it a very beautiful place. It is one place I have never been.”

“It must be one of the
only
places you’ve never been.”

Angélique gave a short, hollow laugh. “You are right, but unfortunately, my life means I am never in one place long enough to enjoy it or to learn about it.”

“I can understand that. I’m sure constant jetting around the world isn’t as glamorous as it sounds.” Tess put down her glass on the low windowsill and opened the zip on her small suede shoulder bag. “Listen,” she said, taking out a business card and handing it to Angélique, “maybe you’d like to come out one night with Allan and me? We would both love to show you around Edinburgh.”

Tess noticed sadness glaze over the violinist’s eyes as she studied the card. “That is very kind of you, Tess. I’m afraid I don’t think I will have the time, but I am very happy you have asked me this.”

Tess shrugged her shoulders. “Well, keep the card anyway. If you do find you have a spare moment, or even if you just want to have a chat, you can always contact me any time on my mobile phone.”

Angélique’s eyes never lifted from the card. “Thank you very much, Tess. I would like to do that.”

“Excuse me, I hope I’m not breaking into a private conversation here.”

Both girls turned to look at the balding middle-aged man who stood peering around the corner of the recess at them. He was smartly dressed in a dark grey pinstriped suit with a striped shirt and yellow silk tie, but his most striking feature was the kindly smile that he beamed in their direction.

“I just wanted to have the opportunity of saying to Mademoiselle Pascal how much I enjoyed her playing,” the man said as he came along the passage towards them.

Tess turned to Angélique. “I’ll leave you with your fan,” she said with a quiet laugh.

The young violinist came forward and gave Tess a kiss on both cheeks. “I have enjoyed meeting you, Tess.”

“Me, too,” Tess replied, making her way along the corridor past the man. He watched her until she had disappeared back into the reception.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cut in like that,” the man said, seemingly quite flustered about having invaded Angélique’s privacy, “but I really did not want to leave tonight without saying to you in person how marvellous it is that you are here in Edinburgh. I have greatly admired your playing over the past few years.”

“Thank you very much,” Angélique replied, accepting the compliment with a small bow of her head. “That is a nice thing to say.”

The man put out a hand to her. “My name is Gavin Mackintosh, Mademoiselle Pascal, and I am most honoured to meet you.”

“And it is also an honour to meet you, too, Mr. Mackintosh,” Angélique replied with a laugh as she took his hand.

“Please, you must call me Gavin.”

“And you must call me Angélique.”

“I would like that,” Gavin said, suddenly realizing he was holding a hand that must be insured for millions. He quickly relinquished his grip. “So, I’m right in saying this is your first time here in Edinburgh?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And how do you like it?”

Angélique turned to look out of the window. “This is all I have seen of Edinburgh. It appears very beautiful from here.”

“So you’ve just arrived?”

“Yes. I was in New York last night.”

Gavin let out a sigh. “I don’t know how you have the stamina. You must be extremely tired.”

Angélique shrugged her shoulders. “I get accustomed to it.”

“And how long are you going to be here?”

“I think seven nights. I am rehearsing tomorrow and then I will be playing in concerts the following two evenings in the…how do you say?…Ush…”

“Usher Hall.” Gavin pointed to the large round ornate stone building on the opposite side of the road. “That’s it over there.”

“Ah,” Angélique said, moving her head slightly so she could see the building. “Not far to walk, then.”

Gavin laughed. “No, not far. And for the rest of the week?”

“I think there are also some late-night concerts when I am to be playing some of the Bach violin sonatas.”

“And then you head off again?”

Angélique gave him an uncomprehending look. “I’m sorry?”

“And then you travel to another place.”

“Ah, yes. To Singapore.”

Gavin shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Angélique laughed. “It is sometimes quite hard. Do you also live here in Edinburgh?”

“Yes, I do, and have done all my life. I went to school here, and then university, and now I work here.”

“What is your job?”

“I am a solicitor.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that word. What would it be in French?”

Gavin burst out laughing. “Don’t ask me! I have no idea. It’s all to do with law, anyway.”

“Oh, I understand. And do you have a family?”

“I do. I have a wife, who is somewhere next door probably trying to find me, two daughters and four grandchildren.”

“Four grandchildren! That is wonderful. But you do not look old enough for that.”

Gavin bit at his lip and slowly nodded his head. “You know, that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”