Dominic’s name. ‘N-n-no,’ I manage to stammer out. ‘He won’t be back. He’s no longer working for Mr Dubrovski.’
The monk’s face falls. ‘Then that means – Miss Anna . . .’
‘Anna?’ I echo, astonished to hear her name spoken by this monk. When James mentioned Anna last night, I wondered what she was doing since leaving Andrei’s employment so suddenly. It still bothers me that I haven’t discovered how she knew that Dominic had begun to practise self-flagellation or how she was in possession of the secrets of our life together, but as long as she keeps well away from Dominic and me, I can live with that.
‘Will Miss Anna be back?’ the monk asks urgently.
I see her beautiful face in front of my mind’s eye: the smooth skin and feline green eyes, the bee-stung lips and glossy dark hair. No wonder this monk is disappointed she hasn’t been there for him to feast his eyes on: Anna’s smouldering sexuality would no doubt cause seismic waves in a house of celibate men.
‘I don’t know, I’m afraid. I don’t think so.’ I watch his face set into lines of disappointment and resignation. ‘I’m sorry.’
He turns to go back to his chair and I have a sudden flash of memory. It’s not the face, I’m sure I’ve never seen it before. It’s that voice. I’ve heard it . . . but when? Then it comes to me. I hear him talking to me through the darkness. That’s it! This is the monk who took me to Dominic that night. Is he the one who taught Dominic how to beat himself with knotted ropes to rid himself of his base desires?
I can hardly ask that here in front of everyone but I’m sure that this is the man who led me through the dark monastery that night and reunited me with Dominic. What was his name? I hear Dominic’s laughing voice in my memory: ‘ Did Brother Giovanni freak you out? ’ Yes he had, with his hooded face and lantern, like something from a horror film. That monastery was certainly a curious place. It was odd that not only did they have a Fra Angelico to sell to Andrei but his right-hand man and woman, Dominic and Anna, were both staying there too, working on Andrei’s big commodities deal.
The meeting seems to be over. I wonder if I can leave or whether I ought to wait for Andrei to come back. Just then my phone beeps to announce an incoming text. I take it out of my pocket and open the message.
Rosa’s master would like to see her tonight.
I gasp. Dominic! What does he mean? Is he in London? I quickly fire a text back.
Where?
The answer arrives in seconds.
In the boudoir at eight o’clock.
I check my watch. It’s already half past seven. I can get to the boudoir from here in time as long as I can leave quite soon. Another text comes through to me:
Where are you?
Oh God. I don’t want to answer that one. If I say I’m in Albany he’ll know at once that I’m with Andrei, and I don’t want to face that problem quite yet.
Not far off. I can be with you soon.
Just then, Andrei comes back into the room and I tuck my phone away. He begins to talk to the abbot, obviously thanking him and preparing him to leave because the next moment, the bodyguard is showing all the monks to the front door. When we’re alone, Andrei turns to me and smiles.
‘I’m glad that was resolved without too much trouble. Aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I say sincerely. ‘Thank you for sorting it out.’
‘It’s in my interests too. Let me know when you’ve managed to transfer the money, won’t you?’
I nod. I’m dying to get out of there and over to the boudoir but I don’t want Andrei to guess at my impatience.
‘How is Mark?’ He walks over to the drinks cabinet and opens it. He pours out measures of vodka into two crystal glasses and adds ice from a silver ice bucket, and some slices of lemon. He passes one to me even though I haven’t asked for it.
‘He’s doing as well as we can hope,’ I reply. ‘I don’t know when
The monk’s face falls. ‘Then that means – Miss Anna . . .’
‘Anna?’ I echo, astonished to hear her name spoken by this monk. When James mentioned Anna last night, I wondered what she was doing since leaving Andrei’s employment so suddenly. It still bothers me that I haven’t discovered how she knew that Dominic had begun to practise self-flagellation or how she was in possession of the secrets of our life together, but as long as she keeps well away from Dominic and me, I can live with that.
‘Will Miss Anna be back?’ the monk asks urgently.
I see her beautiful face in front of my mind’s eye: the smooth skin and feline green eyes, the bee-stung lips and glossy dark hair. No wonder this monk is disappointed she hasn’t been there for him to feast his eyes on: Anna’s smouldering sexuality would no doubt cause seismic waves in a house of celibate men.
‘I don’t know, I’m afraid. I don’t think so.’ I watch his face set into lines of disappointment and resignation. ‘I’m sorry.’
He turns to go back to his chair and I have a sudden flash of memory. It’s not the face, I’m sure I’ve never seen it before. It’s that voice. I’ve heard it . . . but when? Then it comes to me. I hear him talking to me through the darkness. That’s it! This is the monk who took me to Dominic that night. Is he the one who taught Dominic how to beat himself with knotted ropes to rid himself of his base desires?
I can hardly ask that here in front of everyone but I’m sure that this is the man who led me through the dark monastery that night and reunited me with Dominic. What was his name? I hear Dominic’s laughing voice in my memory: ‘ Did Brother Giovanni freak you out? ’ Yes he had, with his hooded face and lantern, like something from a horror film. That monastery was certainly a curious place. It was odd that not only did they have a Fra Angelico to sell to Andrei but his right-hand man and woman, Dominic and Anna, were both staying there too, working on Andrei’s big commodities deal.
The meeting seems to be over. I wonder if I can leave or whether I ought to wait for Andrei to come back. Just then my phone beeps to announce an incoming text. I take it out of my pocket and open the message.
Rosa’s master would like to see her tonight.
I gasp. Dominic! What does he mean? Is he in London? I quickly fire a text back.
Where?
The answer arrives in seconds.
In the boudoir at eight o’clock.
I check my watch. It’s already half past seven. I can get to the boudoir from here in time as long as I can leave quite soon. Another text comes through to me:
Where are you?
Oh God. I don’t want to answer that one. If I say I’m in Albany he’ll know at once that I’m with Andrei, and I don’t want to face that problem quite yet.
Not far off. I can be with you soon.
Just then, Andrei comes back into the room and I tuck my phone away. He begins to talk to the abbot, obviously thanking him and preparing him to leave because the next moment, the bodyguard is showing all the monks to the front door. When we’re alone, Andrei turns to me and smiles.
‘I’m glad that was resolved without too much trouble. Aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ I say sincerely. ‘Thank you for sorting it out.’
‘It’s in my interests too. Let me know when you’ve managed to transfer the money, won’t you?’
I nod. I’m dying to get out of there and over to the boudoir but I don’t want Andrei to guess at my impatience.
‘How is Mark?’ He walks over to the drinks cabinet and opens it. He pours out measures of vodka into two crystal glasses and adds ice from a silver ice bucket, and some slices of lemon. He passes one to me even though I haven’t asked for it.
‘He’s doing as well as we can hope,’ I reply. ‘I don’t know when
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