Flashbacks of Evgeny’s body, bloated with water on the banks of the Vltava while emergency services crowded around him, assailed Lydia’s consciousness.
“That’s so strange,” she whispered. “So strange and so horrible.”
“And ever since then,” sobbed Karl-Heinz. “I can’t… I just can’t…”
“I know. I know, love. Don’t cry. It’s all right. I’m here for you.”
They rocked together, weeping in each other’s arms, until both lay down, exhausted but full of love and compassion for each other’s suffering, to await sleep.
Chapter Seven
Vanessa had tried to tell Ben, honestly, she had.
She’d almost brought the subject of her ex up umpteen times over the course of the weekend, but somehow it had always seemed a shame to spoil the moment.
There was kissing to be done, or ice cream to be eaten, or movies to be watched. Then it was bedtime.
And really, why should Dafydd ap fucking Hughes ruin her sex life?
“Bit of Beethoven today,” said Ben brightly, loping up the street to the rehearsal hall. “Love it. Ludwig Van the Man.”
“Yeah, great.”
Vanessa tried not to sound preoccupied, but obviously her efforts weren’t stellar, because Ben stopped abruptly and raised his eyebrows.
“Don’t you like him? The Egmont Overture’s terrific, I think.” He conducted the opening bars with an imaginary baton, waving his hands towards the passing traffic. “Not a lot for us to do on percussion, but you get a bit of kettledrumming in.”
“I love Beethoven. It’s just…oh. Look. It’s the new leader.”
Dafydd ap Hughes had just emerged from a taxi and the couple watched him trot self-importantly up the steps, toting his violin case like a weapon.
“The Welsh guy? Ap Hughes. Ap! There’s an ap for that.”
Ben laughed at his lame joke, then grimaced an apology.
“Sorry. That was shit. You don’t like him, do you?”
She took a deep breath. “You need to hear this from me rather than from orchestra gossip. He’s my ex-husband.”
“What?”
Ben looked momentarily dumbfounded.
“Him?” he eventually struggled to say. “That big beast of a bloke? He doesn’t seem quite your type, my love.”
“He’s not. That’s why we’re not together anymore,” said Vanessa tightly. They had reached the steps and private conversation would soon be out of the question as various musicians waved and offered greetings.
“Bloody hell,” muttered Ben, trudging up after Vanessa. “You never said it was him. Evil Ex never had a proper name. You could have said something before.”
“I’m sorry. I just…I wish he’d just go away. I suppose I hoped he’d bugger off before the subject had to come up. But it doesn’t look like he’s buggering anywhere, does it?”
“He can keep his buggering away from you,” said Ben. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
But there was no space for further discussion. Kim, the oboist, was on her way over, eyes alight with greed for gossip.
“What about Dafydd coming back?” she said excitedly. “Are you really pissed off?”
“Yes,” said Vanessa shortly. “But I’m not going to let it get to me. We’re an orchestra. Harmony’s the watchword, right?”