“There is nothing between us.”
“But she’s your best friend’s girl. Did she used to be yours?”
“Look, let’s take this to the coffee shop, yes? I don’t want to talk about it here.”
“Fine.”
It was still warm enough to sit at the pavement tables, so von Ritter and Lydia took their Frappuccinos outside and watched London life pass them by in the late-afternoon sunshine.
“You are still sulking about what happened in the club?” opened von Ritter, his tone that curious mix of stern and seductive that had originally captivated her.
“I’m not sulking about anything.”
“Then let’s put it behind us and continue where we ended.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“Come on, Lydia.” Von Ritter stirred his drink, fixing her with a quizzical gaze. “I like you, you like me. We enjoy the same things. We are compatible. I made one mistake. Don’t let that kill what we had.”
“But what did we have, Karl-Heinz? I really don’t know.”
“Well.” He sat back and began enumerating on his fingers. “I’ll tell you what you had. A steady, dependable, caring man who was able to satisfy your physical, material and intellectual needs. A man who could be there for you.”
The ‘unlike some I could mention’ was unspoken but heavily implied.
“Interesting that you don’t mention my emotional needs,” said Lydia.
“Liebchen, just because I don’t act like Milan Kaspar it doesn’t mean I have no passion. I do have passion. I express it…differently.”
“Yeah. You certainly do.”
“That sounded a little cheeky.”
He leant forward and Lydia felt a twist of the old secret thrill. She squirmed on her seat in reminiscence.
“Did you know about Sarah and Hackmeyer?” she asked.
“What about them? Of course I knew they had been lovers.”
“Did you know they were trying to sabotage Milan’s performance?”
He shook his head.
“Do you think I would knowingly take part in ruining my own concert? Lydia, you know me better than that. My reputation as a conductor is everything to me. Both Sarah and Julius deserve a good thrashing for their behaviour.”
Lydia giggled. “I wouldn’t mind watching that.” She grew serious again. “But why is there such bad blood between Hackmeyer and Milan?”
“I’ve told you. There was an incident when they studied together in Paris. They had been friendly rivals until it happened, and then they became enemies.”
“Something to do with a girl?”
“Of course, something to do with a girl. Isn’t it always, with Milan?”
“No, sometimes it’s to do with a boy.”
“Well, that’s true as well. But I don’t want to talk about them. I want to talk about us. Come back home with me, Lydia. Come back and let me do all the things we did together to you.”
“What about the things we didn’t do?”