my life where I’m actually honest.’
‘Deception doesn’t make you dishonest,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s the kind of deception that counts. You’re the most honest man I’ve ever met. I know that Roscoe, because I know you.’
After what he’d told her about how he resisted anyone’s eyes, it was a daring thing to say. Perhaps it was too soon for him to relax under a knowing gaze, even hers. But then she saw his face transfigured by joy and relief.
‘You know me,’ he echoed softly. ‘That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Now I’ll never let you go.’
Heaven must be like this, she thought, nestling against him. If only they could be undisturbed for ever.
Pippa was to remember that feeling because, looking back, she could see that it was the moment everything began to fall apart. She wondered if it was the Christmas carol that triggered the catastrophe or if it would have happened anyway, for she awoke next morning to find herself in a dark wilderness.
She tried to shake it off, wondering how she could feel this way after the wonderful events of the night before. But the darkness seemed to be rooted in those very events and her confusion grew.
Roscoe was still clasping her with loving possessiveness, which should have touched her heart but suddenly seemed like a threat. She began to ease away.
‘Don’t go,’ he said. ‘Stay here a little longer.’
‘I can’t,’ she said. ‘I’ve got work to go to. So have you.’
He grinned. ‘To hell with work. To hell with the markets.’
Another time she would have teased him fondly for such an attitude, but now she needed to get away from his warmth and gentleness, far, far away from everything that made him lovable. She must think, calm her howling demons, refuse to let them ruin her life.
She slipped out of bed and went to the window, pushing it open a little way. It was a bright, fresh morning with a little snow in the air and she stood taking deep breaths, trying to make the darkness lift.
She could do it—just a few minutes more.
But then Roscoe did the thing that made her efforts collapse. He turned on the radio and the sound of a Christmas carol floated out. As Pippa heard the words she stiffened.
‘On this happy morning,
All is well with all the world.’
All is well. Once before she’d heard those words, just before the betrayal that had devastated her.
‘Don’t catch cold,’ he said, coming up behind her and putting his arms about her. ‘Hey, what’s the matter?’
‘Nothing,’ she said hastily. ‘Nothing.’
‘You’re shaking.’ He shut the window and drew her back. ‘Come back into the warm.’
But she tensed against his embrace, resisting him silently, unable to meet his eyes.
‘Now the sun will always shine,
Joy is here for ever.’
But joy hadn’t been there for ever. Joy had ended in the next few moments, leaving her unable to hear that carol again without reliving terrible memories.
Roscoe tightened his embrace, tried to draw her closer, felt her fight against it.
‘Pippa, for pity’s sake, what’s the matter? It’s not the cold, is it? There’s something else.’
‘No, I…I just have to be getting to work. And so do you.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘We still have to be sensible.’
‘Sensible? You dare say that to me after the way we were together last night? Was the woman who lay in my arms and cried out to me to love her being sensible? Was I being sensible when I gave her everything I was and received back everything she had in her soul?’
Pippa didn’t reply. She couldn’t. There were no words for the terror she was feeling. Roscoe’s face darkened.
‘Or didn’t I?’ he said. ‘Was I fooling myself about that, because the woman in my bed would never have wanted to be sensible?’
‘Well,’ she said brightly, ‘perhaps that wasn’t me, just someone who looked like me.’
‘What’s got into you? If this is a joke, it isn’t funny.’
The music swelled. Now the carol was being played louder, sung by joyful voices, and her nerves were being torn. She had to get out of this or go mad.
‘It’s not a joke,’ she said breathlessly. ‘It’s just that things look different in the morning.’
‘Yes, they can look different,’ he said slowly. ‘Better or worse, depending on what you want to believe.’
‘But that’s the problem,’ she said quickly. ‘Wanting to believe is dangerous—talking yourself into things because it would be so nice if…if…’
Roscoe was still holding her, trying to understand the violent shaking he could feel throughout her body.
‘What is it?’ he asked urgently. ‘Tell me. Don’t bear it alone.’
She slumped against him in despair. How could she make him understand what she didn’t understand herself? She only knew that she’d been brought to the edge of a deep pit, a place that many people found joyous but where she’d vowed not to venture. Now she stared down into the depths, appalled at herself for backing away but unable to do anything else.
Last night they’d talked happily about the risks they would take for their love. Now she knew she hadn’t the courage and nothing mattered but to get away.
The words of the carol were still pouring from the radio.
‘New day, new hope, new life.’
That was how it should have been and how it never would be again. It was all folly, all illusion, and she must put right the damage now.
‘Pippa, my darling—’
‘Don’t—it’s better not to call me that. We had a wonderful time last night, didn’t we?’
‘I thought so,’ he said quietly.
‘But now it’s time to wake up and return to reality.’
‘And what do you call reality?’
‘We both know what we mean by it.’ She gave another brittle laugh. ‘I’m sure we’ll see each other again, but nobody can live too long in that fantasy world.’
At last Roscoe released her. It was what she’d wanted but the feeling of his hands leaving her was achingly wretched because, deep inside, she knew he would never hold her again.
‘I see,’ he said. And now his voice was ominous. ‘So that’s how it is. We had a good time, now it’s over and it had nothing to do with the real world. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?’
Pippa summoned a carefree smile. ‘Why, that’s just it. A good time. And it was great fun, wasn’t it? But now…well, you knew from the start that I was a good time girl. I think you even called me a few worse things in your head.’
‘Before I thought I knew you,’ he corrected harshly.
‘Well, maybe first impressions are the most reliable. Floozie, tart, heartless piece—’
‘Stop it!’ he shouted, seizing her again. ‘I won’t listen to this. I never thought that of you—or if I ever wondered for a moment you showed me how wrong I was—’
‘Did I? Or did I show you what you wanted to see? You were a real challenge, you know. Anyone can lure a man into her bed, but luring his heart—that’s another matter.’
Pippa