The Piano Teacher. Литагент HarperCollins USD

it.’

      

      There had been times when Claire felt she could become a different person. She sensed it in herself, when someone made a comment at dinner, and she thought of the perfect, acerbic reply, or even something racy, and she felt her mouth opening, her lungs taking in air so she could push out the words, but they never came. She swallowed the thought, and the person she could have become sank down again, weighted by the Claire who was already too evident in the world. She sensed it when she held a glass at a cocktail party and suddenly felt the urge to crush it in her hand. She never did. That hidden person ballooned and deflated so often, the elasticity of possibility slackened over time.

      But then came Will. She could say to him all the things she thought, as long as it didn’t have anything to do with them, and he didn’t find any of it surprising. He didn’t have an idea of what she should be like. She was a new person – one who could have an affair, one who could be ribald, or sarcastic, or clever, and he was never surprised. She was out of context with him. She was a new person. Sometimes she felt she was in love with the new person she could be, that this affair was an affair with a new Claire, and that Will was just the catalyst.

       December 1941

      The holidays are coming. Despite the rumblings of war, Hong Kong decks itself out with Christmas lights and decorations. Lane Crawford, store of a million gifts, advertises its genuine English crystal as the perfect present, costume parties are planned, the Drama Club puts on Tea for Three. The air is crisp, the moisture sucked out by the cool, and people walk briskly on the streets. The Wongs, a famous merchant family, are having a grand Diamond Jubilee Party at the Gripps to celebrate their sixtieth anniversary.

      ‘The new governor’s coming, that Young fellow,’ Trudy says. ‘And the governor of Macau, who’s a great friend of Father’s. I’ve three new dresses arriving today! A yellow silk chiffon to die for! And a grey crêpe-de-Chine, so elegant. Do you mind if I go with Dommie instead of you? You hate these things anyway, don’t you?’

      Will shrugs. ‘Fine,’ he says. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

      Her eyes narrow. ‘Nothing ever bothers you, does it?’ she says. ‘I used to like that but now I’m not so sure. Well, anyway, my father gave me something today. Something very special.’ She motions him into her bedroom. ‘He said he was going to give it to my mother for their tenth anniversary, but then, you know …’ Her voice trails off. Trudy has always been unsentimental about her mother’s disappearance, but today her voice catches.