Lovers in Their Fashion Read Free

her approval. ‘I begin to see.’
    ‘Then, in the evening, we had dinner. The Lygon Arms didn’t have anything as ordinary as a restaurant. It had the Great Hall. Which looked exactly as it sounds. A beautiful vaulted ceiling and a minstrels’ gallery. And the food. Oh, boy. And the wine. So. That was the day when I began to feel pampered. That was the day when I first realized that you don’t have to accept limitations. You can be who and what you want to be. If you want it enough. And if you’re really prepared to go for it.’
    ‘Gosh.’
    ‘Well, as I said, you’re American and this probably seems normal to you. But it didn’t to me. And John made it possible. He believed in me, and he made me believe in me, too. Without him, I wouldn’t be sitting here tonight.’
    ‘I’m impressed. But I don’t understand. If this guy was so utterly wonderful, why aren’t you together? Let me guess. It’s the old story. When you started to make the grade, he got jealous and dumped you.’
    Alice looked suddenly wistful. ‘No. No, it wasn’t like that at all. No-one ever had a more supportive lover. And he didn’t dump me. I dumped him.’

Chapter 3
    J ohn Pagan slipped off his shoes, accepted a newspaper from the stewardess and settled back into his seat. He thanked heaven he was in club class – the back of the plane was crowded but here were empty seats, masses of leg room and no-one to overlook him. It would be five hours before they reached New York, where he was to break his journey for two days before flying on to Rio. These journeys had been so much easier by Concorde, but now there was no Concorde. A pity.
    The pilot announced that the plane had reached cruising height and speed. John realized with a stab of pain that every minute was taking him another eight miles from the woman whose loss he had mourned for ten years. Ten years! What was the point of dreaming now? She had David Tucker, with whom she was clearly happy. He had no-one who mattered to him in that way.
    The time had passed slowly at first, then faster as he had thrown himself into his work and other relationships, but he had always been aware that only one woman held him. There was a song – And when I dream, I dream of you. It summed up everything he felt. Time was supposed to be a healer, wasn’t it? So why did the hurt refuse so stubbornly to mend?
    ‘Are you all right, sir?’
    John looked up. The stewardess was gazing at him with concern.
    ‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?’
    The stewardess looked round, making sure that they were not watched. Then she reached out a long, slim finger and touched him at the corner of his eye. She took the finger away and showed it to him. It was wet.
    ‘I…’ For once in his successful life, John was lost for words. He was sitting in a club class seat on a flight to New York, and he was crying! Well, he told himself, not crying – but there was no doubt that at least one tear had been squeezed from his eye during his reverie.
    ‘If there’s anything I can do, sir?’ The stewardess’s voice was full of concern, but something else was there, too. A promise? An offer?
    ‘We’ll be serving dinner shortly,’ the woman said. ‘Can I get you a drink while you’re waiting?’
    ‘Thank you,’ John said. ‘A gin and tonic would be good.’
    ‘Coming right up.’
    He watched her walk away. She was – what? Thirty? Thirty-five? Slim. Shapely. Well groomed. He’d liked the understated touch of perfume that had hung in the air while she talked to him. She wasn’t Alice, of course. But Alice was spoken for. Alice had David. And Alice had rejected him decisively, ten years ago. Another song came to him: If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with. A philosophy that had helped him get through the years of loss.
    The stewardess returned with his drink. John smiled his thanks. ‘Will you be in New York long, Mister Pagan? she asked.
    ‘Call me John. A couple of days.