Vanessa shook her head. “I didn’t realise at the time—but you’re quite right. He craved my attention and did worse and worse things to get it. But of course, I was an ice maiden.”
Lydia laughed. “That’s the last thing you are.”
“Okay, I wasn’t an ice maiden. But I had a boyfriend. A nice boyfriend, called Shaun.”
“What happened to him?”
“After we graduated, he got a place in the Ulster Orchestra. We tried to keep the relationship going, but it was too long-distance in the end. Anyway, I’ll never forget the day I got my acceptance from the WSO. I went up to Dafydd in the canteen, got right down in his face and said, ‘You’ll never guess who I’m playing for next season. Only the bloody Westminster Symphony’. And he reached into his pocket and just held out his acceptance letter for me to read. From, of course, the WSO. I wanted to sink into the ground. Talk about good news, bad news.”
“That’s harsh.” Lydia nodded and looked out through the window at the approaching rain clouds.
“He was in the second violins. We were the only newbies. God, it was awkward. And then we went on tour to Scandinavia and…”
Vanessa broke off, remembering. Late Saturday night in the Tivoli Gardens after playing a concert there. He had dared her to go on this horrible white-knuckle ride, laughing at her, betting with his friends that she wouldn’t do it. She had gone on the damn thing and staggered off, green and dizzy.
“You’re going to throw up. Hey, come on. Come and sit down.”
His arm around her, so heavy and yet so gentle, as he’d walked her to a secluded part of the garden.
“I’m a twat sometimes. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dared you.”
How she had stared at him.
“That was never an apology, was it? From the great Dafydd ap Hughes? Or has that thing driven me insane?” Her voice was wobbly.
He had found a bench behind some rose bushes and sat with her, his arm still around her, lifting her chin up with one huge hand.
“You don’t get it, do you? Now your horny horn player is safely in Belfast, I’ve got a clear run at you. I want you. I’m going to get you. You might as well give in now.”
And, too shocked to even think of putting up any resistance, she had let him kiss her, then and there. His stubble had scraped her face and he had felt giant beside her, so big she hadn’t been able to see around the sides of him, but it had been a kiss unlike anything she’d ever had from Shaun. It had hooked her.
Six months later, they were married.
“We got together,” she said abruptly.
Lydia raised her eyebrows.
“You know how it is. These things happen,” said Vanessa dismissively. “He’s a powerful man. Charismatic. Even at twenty-two. We got married and it was all fine for a while, but…”
“But?”
“He wanted kids. I didn’t,” she said flatly.
“Oh dear. And you hadn’t discussed it before you got married?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“Crazy, I know. I assumed that, if he ever wanted them, that day was a long way off. Most men wait till they’re at least in their thirties these days, don’t they? But he started pestering me about it on our first wedding anniversary. I was horrified. Twenty-three years old, loving orchestral life, all the travel, all the music…I wasn’t ready. And I told him so.”
“And that was that? You got divorced?”
“If only.”
She didn’t think she could talk about it even now. She hid her face in the vast circular rim of the coffee cup so that Lydia might not see the look in her eyes.
“He was difficult about it?”
“Very.” She put the cup down and sighed. “Look, I don’t want to go into specifics, but it got very nasty. Lots of fights. He flushed my pills down the loo and tried to… God, if my mother hadn’t called round when she did…”