“They were dancing? Kissing?”
“No, no. It was a, you know, a sex thing. Sex club.”
“Bondage, that’s what Hackmeyer likes. You were at a bondage club. Lydia.” He turned to her, his face strained but trying to find the light side, trying to hide the hurt. “You didn’t tell me you liked that stuff. You should have told me.”
“Yes, okay. It was that kind of club. Milan, are you all right?”
He stared at the monument silently for a while before nodding.
“I was never serious about her.”
“But it must hurt.”
“To be played for a fool? Yeah. But that’s what I am, Lydia. So I can’t blame her for it. I am a fool.”
“You’ve been through a lot. And you’re coming out the other side. You were amazing out there tonight. Your whole future has just gone up a gear. More than a gear.”
“Hey.” He ruffled her hair. “You don’t need to tell me. Everything will be fine, I know. Was that fight… Was that because you were trying to stop her getting to me? Before the concert?”
“Yes.”
“And this is why I’m a fool.”
She looked up at him, at his haunted eyes and his fist wrapped tight around a railing, whitening his knuckles.
“Is it?” she whispered.
“To let you get away.”
“To drive me away, you mean.”
“Yes.” He nodded sharply, conceding the point. “I drove you into von Ritter’s arms. God, I’m such a…”
He let go of the railing and stepped back, casting a glance in the direction of the Albert Hall.
“You are worth so much more than I am,” he said, looking back at her. “I have never deserved you. I wish I could have cared about you the way you care about me. For whatever reason, I wasn’t up to it before. If there’s any way you could let me prove myself, show you that I am up to it now—”
“Oh, Milan. You’ve had a shock. Perhaps we should go inside.”
He swallowed. “Okay, I understand. You are with von Ritter now and you are happy with him. I have missed my chance.”
He turned to go.
“Milan.” Lydia hurried after him, touching his hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I love you, you know. I’ll always love you. But you’re so hard to love. You make it so hard.”
“I know. Thank you for everything.” He shook her off and strode onwards until she gave up trying to chase him and sat down on the grass, alone under the starlight. Her head was still between her legs when she heard footsteps across the park.
She looked up, feeling groggy and unfocused.
“Milan?” she said.
A dark figure dropped to a crouch in front of her.
“Is that who you were hoping for?”
“Karl-Heinz. Shouldn’t you be inside with the TV people?”
“Shouldn’t you?” He put a finger on her cheek, caressed it with his knuckles. “You ran away before we could have our talk.”