Chapter Two

Promptly at six-thirty on Wednesday he picked her up.

‘You look gorgeous,’ he said, walking round her.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ she said.

He was wearing a very dark green suit with a red silk shirt.

‘You like it?’ he said, pleased. ‘My tailor only finished it on Monday; that’s why I couldn’t ask you out last week.’

An Aston Martin was waiting outside; music blasted out of the slot stereo; the heat was turned up overpoweringly.

Bella wound down her window surreptitiously as they drove off. She didn’t want to be scarlet in the face before she started.

As they stopped at the traffic lights, Rupert turned and smiled at her. ‘You shouldn’t have made me wait so long to see you,’ he said. ‘I’ve been in such a state of anticipation I’ve been unbearable to everyone.’

Even in the thick of a first-night audience with the diamonds glittering like hoar frost, everyone turned to stare at them. Rupert seemed to know lots of people, but he merely nodded and didn’t stop to chat.

The curtain hadn’t been up for five minutes before Bella decided that Wagner wasn’t really her. All those vast men and women screaming their guts out. She glanced at her programme and was appalled to see she was expected to sit through three acts of it.

Somehow she managed to endure the first act. It seemed so strange to be on the other side of the curtain.

‘Is it all right? Are you enjoying yourself?’ asked Rupert as he fought his way back to her side with drinks during the interval.

‘Oh, it’s great,’ she lied enthusiastically.

Rupert looked dubious. ‘Well, I don’t know; they make a frightful row. Say as soon as you’re bored and we’ll leave.’

Two earnest-looking women with plaits round their heads turned to look at him in horror.

During the second act Rupert became increasingly restless, but cheered up when Brünhilde made her appearance.