Chapter 14
H appy birthday , said the Voice. Forty-three! Did you ever believe you’d live that long? Poor guy. So screwed up!
It was true. Damien had wondered how he’d managed to carry on. So many years of pushing the boundaries almost without limitations.
He examined his face in the mirror.
You’re quite extraordinary , said the Voice. For all your shenanigans , you still look great. But we both know that if you continue to lead your dysfunctional life, sooner or later you’ll land up in the snakepit.
‘It’s my birthday – can’t you leave me alone for once?’
Such a shame about Sophie. Just the kind of woman who would put you straight , said the Voice.
‘What do you mean by such a shame?’
Oh, don’t be delusional. She’s fond of you. But it’s bro time for her.
‘Okay, just let it go.’ Damien sighed. ‘Can’t you make me feel good for a change? Say something positive.’
Well, I’m sure she’ll give you a birthday kiss this evening.
‘You make me feel like an adolescent going out on his first date.’
Look, if she goes for your cheek, just whip your head round so you catch her lips.
***
The Barbican. Damien closed his eyes. St Matthew Passion . Bach’s meditation on mortality, grief and redemption had always moved him, ever since his student days at Oxford. He had sat beside Laura in the church, holding hands, feeling so close to her.
The sublime aria Aus Liebe sung by the pure-voiced soprano had filled his heart.
‘Laura,’ he’d whispered then, ‘I love you.’ He’d known that one day she’d be his angel bride. What he hadn’t known was that it wouldn’t last.
So now here he was with Sophie who sat next to him, so composed in a chic black velvet dress. Her soft pale hands with red-painted nails neatly placed on her lap.
But when the soprano sang Ause Liebe Damien could only think of Laura and how at that moment in time he’d thought that no one could capture his soul like she had. And then he glanced at Sophie.
Where was she? Not here with Damien.
Eyes downcast, hands clasped as if in prayer.
Let her go , said the Voice . She’s thinking of Daniel and Mikey. Not of Nicholas, nor the man she met in Bordeaux. Pure music stirs the heart to remember true love that has passed.
After the concert, dinner at Romano’s. Sophie talked about Bordeaux and Horatio.
‘Do you know, while Horatio made love to me, I never thought of Nicholas once?’ Sophie sucked a piece of pasta back into her mouth. ‘Horatio intrigues me. He’s sophisticated and gracious. He owns a vineyard, and he’s available. Nicholas isn’t. Anyway, even if he did leave his wife, I’m sure I’d get bored. He’d probably moan about missing his kids and his solitary walks with the dogs.’
Damien looked at her mouth, red with tomato sauce, and her cheeks, rosy from the wine.
She’s kidding herself , he thought. While Daniel and Mikey are whizzing around the ether, no man has a chance .
Ask her , said the Voice.
‘At night when you dream, do you see them?’ Damien asked.
‘Who?’
‘Your husband and son.’
She paused and looked away from Damien.
‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I really didn’t want to upset you.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘Yes, they’re in my dreams, whenever I start to feel close to another man.’ She picked up her napkin and wiped her lips. ‘It’s as if they know.’
Hmm , said the Voice. She needs time. Take her home. And don’t try your luck.