‘I’m glad you came out to find me,’ said Sophie.
‘You sounded sad.’
‘I am. I wish he hadn’t done that. Bait Nathan. It was so unreasonable. I mean both of them did their stuff for the war effort. We needed oil and we needed morale.’
‘He’s drunk,’ I said. ‘Really drunk.’
‘Did he get like that at Oxford?’ Sophie asked. ‘When you got drunk? Somehow I suspect that you did get drunk every now and then.’
‘We did,’ I said, smiling. ‘And no, not really. He would usually talk, ramble on. I remember he did get in a fight with an idiot called Richardson once. But that was Richardson’s fault. I broke it up.’
‘Is that what you do? Break fights up.’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘That was quite a blow. When you hit Stephen.’
‘I know.’ I shook my hand. ‘It hurts a bit, to be honest.’ We walked in silence for a few moments. ‘Is he often that aggressive now when he’s drunk?’
‘Yes. Yes, he is. I don’t like it.’
‘I’m sure you don’t. He doesn’t hit you, does he?’
‘No! Oh, no,’ said Sophie quickly. ‘But...’
I waited.
‘But sometimes these days I think he might. And he does get drunk rather often.’
‘You mustn’t let him!’ I said. ‘Hit you, I mean.’
‘It doesn’t work like that,’ said Sophie. ‘Have you got a cigarette?’
‘’Fraid not. I’ve got my pipe?’
Sophie laughed. ‘No thanks.’
A cat missing half of its tail darted out of the shadows in front of us, and squeezed itself under a gate into a garden.
‘Stephen was very good when we were first married,’ Sophie said. ‘He wanted to be a good husband and then a good father. He tried really hard. I knew he was tempted. When I visited him on set I could see the way the girls looked at him, but he only had eyes for me.’
‘Stephen’s ambition is to be a reliable man with a reliable job, a reliable wife and two reliable children,’ I said.
‘Yes. That’s why he likes you so much. He talks about you a lot, you know.’
‘I didn’t know,’ I said, but I was pleased to hear it. ‘I have to say I haven’t quite managed the reliable bit yet.’
‘You will, though. You will become the local GP that everyone loves.’
‘Like my father,’ I said. ‘Perhaps I will. I hope I will.’
‘But not like Stephen,’ said Sophie. ‘He tried, he really tried, but he couldn’t do it.’
‘Has he had any affairs?’ I wanted to ask, but didn’t.
But Sophie heard the unspoken question. ‘I know he has been seeing other women. It started when Beatrice was born. One of the make-up ladies, for God’s sake! Then there was an actress on one of the war films he was in. Played his sister. That’s incest, isn’t it? Should be banned.’
‘Have you caught him at it?’
‘No,’ said Sophie. ‘I don’t want to catch him at it. I don’t want to know.’ She sighed. ‘But I do.’
‘I’m sorry.’
We walked on. We were approaching the little drinking fountain halfway up to the Villa Jovis. A cloud covered the moon, and the road became suddenly darker.
‘When he goes to Hollywood for this new film, I know he’s going to start an affair. He won’t be able to help himself.’
‘Should you go with him?’
‘Maybe,’ said Sophie. ‘The idea is that if it’s a success we all move out there. But I don’t want to follow him thousands of miles just to keep an eye on him. That’s not how marriage should be.’
‘I suppose not.’
Sophie laughed.
‘What is it?’
‘I was remembering your warning. I have to say that homosexuality has never been a problem with Stephen.’
I winced. ‘I was rather hoping you had forgotten that.’
‘That’s a difficult one to forget.’ She touched my hand. ‘But I can forgive you.’
‘Thanks,’ I said.
They reached the little fountain and paused for breath. ‘Which way now?’ I said. But I knew what her answer would be.
‘Do you think we can get in to the Villa Fersen?’
‘You mean break in?’
Sophie nodded.
‘We can try.’
It was difficult making our way along the lane through the darkness, especially the last stretch through the pine wood. Sophie took my hand. In a few minutes we reached the big iron gate, which had a big steel padlock on it. To the right, the high garden wall ran steeply upwards: it had deteriorated significantly since our last visit. Sophie peered up and spied a tree growing just a foot or so away from it. ‘Let’s try that.’
It was easy to hop over the wall into the garden: it looked as if we were taking a route that others had followed before. The villa loomed a bluish white in front of us. Several of the windows were broken and a couple were open. We climbed in. The place was a ruin: plaster had fallen from the ceiling and another decade of dust had accumulated. We looked out from the salon at the bay, now moonlit again. Then Sophie led me down to the opium den.
‘I’ve got my pipe,’ I whispered. ‘But Golden Virginia isn’t quite the same, is it?’
Sophie didn’t answer. She reached out and pulled me to her. We kissed.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ I said.
‘Quite sure. Aren’t you?’
The moonlight streamed through the window of the den. I knew this was a moment I would remember for ever.
‘I’m sure.’
Afterwards, as we lay on one of the oriental divans in the den and I was running a single finger over Sophie’s naked body, pale and striped in the moonlight, she smiled up at me.
‘I have a request. It’s a completely unfair request. But I hope you will agree to it. I think you might.’
‘What is it?’
‘Promise me we won’t do this again?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean never again.’ She touched my chest. ‘I wanted to do this so badly, ever since I saw you when you arrived yesterday. It seemed, I don’t know, inevitable. But I don’t want to ruin my marriage. I don’t want to hurt my children. I don’t even want to lose Stephen.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m still a Catholic, although obviously not a very good one. I don’t want to sin irrevocably. Leaving Stephen would be irrevocable.’
‘I see,’ I said. And I did, sort of. Although the sinning Catholic bit confused me.
‘It’s dreadful of me,’ Sophie said. ‘And it’s very unfair on you. It’s as if I’m using you. Except—’
‘Except what?’
‘Except I don’t feel that I am. Somehow I think you understand me.’
And I did. I wanted her all to myself, of course I did, but I wanted her to be happy, or at least no more unhappy than she had to be. Years ago I would have leaped at this chance, pleaded, cajoled, pestered her to leave Stephen so she could be mine.
But now?
I had had this night. I didn’t want to ruin her life, my life, Stephen’s life, their children’s lives.
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘I promise.’
Sophie smiled. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure.’
‘And you’re not going to run away tomorrow morning?’
‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘I’m not going to run away.’
‘And you’re not going to beat up Stephen over breakfast?’