‘He was an arse,’ Mark reminded her.
‘I loved him.’
‘But he turned into an arse. You said so yourself.’
‘So were you.’
‘I was not!’ Mark looked affronted. ‘Just because I ended our relationship doesn’t mean I was an arse.’
Beatrice gritted her teeth. ‘What are you playing at, Mark?’
‘I’m not playing at anything.’
‘Okay, I’ll try again. Why are we here? You could have eaten here on your own – or not dined here at all. Dulcie wouldn’t have minded. Why were you so insistent that I accompany you?’
‘I wanted to talk to you, on your own.’
‘What about?’
He huffed, and ran his hand through his hair, muttering, ‘I don’t know anymore.’
‘I’ll ask again; what are you playing at?’
‘Bea, I—’ He pulled a face. ‘I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve got under my skin.’
‘Is that right?’ Pull the other one, she wanted to add, but was interrupted by her starter being placed in front of her.
‘Parmesan?’ the server offered.
‘Not for me, thanks.’
‘Sir?’
‘No. Thank you.’ He stared at his food but made no move to eat it, his fork lying untouched. When the server moved away, he said, ‘We were very young. Barely more than kids.’
‘So?’
He shrugged, lifting one shoulder. ‘We weren’t ready for anything heavy.’
‘Youweren’t.’
‘No…’ He chewed on his lip. ‘I did care for you, Bea. More than you realised.’
‘You had a strange way of showing it.’
‘I didn’t think you were into me as much as I was into you.’
Beatrice snorted. ‘We spent ten months in each other’s pockets. We were bloody inseparable. I’m surprised you didn’t enlist the help of a surgeon to cut us apart. How could you not think I wasn’t,’ she quoted with her fingers, ‘into you?’
‘And three weeks.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Ten months and three weeks.’
Thattook the wind out of her sails. ‘How—?’ she began. ‘You keptcount?’
He shrugged again, looking away.
