Chapter 5: The Rain
At 16:40 the black leather interior of the car was empty of anything on the passenger seat. Rain had started at 16:32 and now struck the windscreen hard. Paul drove with one hand, grey suit jacket still on. The wipers kept a steady beat.
Four-forty. Twelve minutes to the building. Rain started at four-thirty-two.
He switched the radio on, listened for two seconds, and switched it off again. Through the rain he saw a figure on the pavement, a large tote held over her head, already soaked from the shoulders down. The white bandage on her right wrist was wet.
Wet bandage. Bacteria under the dressing in forty minutes. Possible infection by morning.
Purely a professional concern.
He indicated and pulled to the kerb.
He lowered the passenger window. Rain flicked inside. Alice stopped, wet T-shirt plastered to her, curls flattened. She looked at the car, then at him.
“Get in.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead.
She looked at the rain, then opened the door and sat. Water from her clothes darkened the black leather. Paul glanced at the seat, then back at the road, and drove.
Silence. Alice wrung water from her hair. The thin T-shirt clung. Paul’s eyes moved once to the side and away.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m checking the road.”
“The road is straight ahead, you know.”
The tip of his ear reddened. Alice saw it and the corner of her mouth lifted.
“Are you blushing?”
“No.”
“Your ear says otherwise.”
“It’s warm in the car.” His grip on the wheel tightened slightly.
“The AC is set to twenty-two degrees.”
His jaw worked. “How’s the wrist?”
“Changing the subject.”
“The bandage is wet. It needs to be replaced when we get back.”
She looked at him for a moment, then turned to the window. His right hand rested on the gear lever. Her left hand lay on her thigh. Fifteen centimetres between them.
Fifteen centimetres.
Not relevant.
In the underground car park he switched off the engine. Outside the entrance the rain still fell hard. The distance to the main doors was roughly twenty metres of open weather. He opened the rear door, took out a compact black umbrella, and started walking without explanation. Alice followed.
Under the umbrella he tilted it toward her so that his own shoulder took the rain. “You keep an umbrella in the car too.”
“It rains in London.”
“Right.”
They turned the corner. Headlights swept in from the blind side. A black car came out fast, no reduction in speed. Paul moved left, arm sweeping around Alice, pulling her hard against him and into the side of a parked car. His hand closed in the wet fabric of her T-shirt. Her hand gripped his sleeve. The car passed. Brake lights flared somewhere deeper in the garage.
They stayed pressed together. Her breath hit his neck. His hand still held the shirt. Hers still held his arm. He looked down at the top of her head. She looked up. The distance between their faces was almost nothing. One second. Two. His fingers loosened slowly. He stepped back. She released his arm. The umbrella lay on the wet ground. Rain fell on both of them.
“Watch where you’re going.”
“I wasn’t the one not watching.”
He picked up the umbrella, shook it, and opened it again. “Come on.”
They walked the rest of the way under the same umbrella, closer than before.
In the lobby Amanda rose from a chair. Camel coat, straight hair, pale red lipstick. Her eyes stopped on Alice, then on the folded umbrella. She stepped forward and took Paul’s arm with both hands.
“Paul. I’ve been waiting for almost an hour.”
He eased her hands off. “You should have called.”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Amanda.”
She turned to Alice with a precisely social smile. “Hi. I’m Amanda.”
“She’s one floor up from me,” Paul said.
“Alice.”
Amanda’s hand returned to his arm. “I made a reservation. That little Italian place you used to like on Marylebone.”
“I haven’t eaten there in two years.”
“All the more reason.”
Paul looked toward Alice. She was looking at her phone.
In the lift Amanda stood close on Paul’s left, shoulder to shoulder. Alice stood opposite, back lightly against the wall, watching the floor numbers. Amanda’s hand rested inside his elbow.
“It’s raining terribly today.” No one answered.
The numbers climbed: three, four, five.
“You’re completely soaked. Did you get caught in it?”
“Something like that.”
The lift stopped at six. Paul stepped out. Amanda followed, still holding his arm, and smiled back. “Nice to meet you, Alice.”
Alice nodded once. The doors closed. She was alone in the car.