David Lodge by David Lodge Read Free Book Online Page A

qualities - but suppose she married someone else? Suppose she married Tom?
    She hadn't been entirely candid in relating the story of her reunion with Tom. As they shared a bottle of wine in a corner of the bar after dinner, he had told her how wonderful she looked, how often he thought of her and the times they had together as students, what a pity it was that her year abroad had separated them when he was too young and immature to realise that she was exceptional, a girl worth waiting for and keeping faith with. “There've been other women in my life since then, Emma, but no-one like you,” he said. When she told him she was engaged to be married he looked genuinely disconsolate. “Well, he's a lucky man,” he said with a sigh. As for herself, the meeting revived all the personal charm and intense physical attraction Tom had possessed for her in youth, and the evening ended not with a single kiss and a hug, but a prolonged snog on the bed in his room, to which he invited her for a nightcap from a flask of whisky he had there. She managed to part from him with honour technically intact, but with disordered clothing and emotions, and woke next morning somewhat shocked in retrospect by her own behaviour but relieved that nothing more serious had happened. When they said a restrained public goodbye after breakfast in the refectory he slipped a business card into her hand. “Thomas Radcliffe, B.Sc., M.Sc., Systems Consultant,” it stated, with a London address and other contact details, and on the reverse side there was a handwritten message: “Let me know if there's ever anything I can do for you. Tom.” Well, now there was something he could do for her.
    Emma found Tom's card in the wallet where she kept business cards and emailed him to say that her engagement had been broken off, that she was feeling lonely, and would be glad to see him again. He responded immediately: “When? Where?” In a rapid exchange of emails it was agreed that he would come to Birmingham the next day and take her to dinner in one of the city's Michelin-starred restaurants. He told her he had booked a room for the night at the Hyatt hotel, but she changed the linen on her bed that morning in case an alternative scenario developed.
    They met at the restaurant, and it was soon clear to her that the same thought was in his mind. When he asked her where she lived, and she explained that it was very near and that she could show him the flat after dinner, he wore the expression of someone for whom Christmas had come very early, and scarcely attended to the waiter's conscientious recitation of the ingredients in the exiguous starters he set before them. While they were waiting for the main course to be served. Tom commiserated with Emma on the breakup of her engagement. “It was a lucky escape,” she said dismissively. “He wasn't worthy of me. Did you ever think of getting married?” Tom wrinkled his brow. “Not really. I never met someone I felt I could live with for a lifetime.” “What about me?” Emma asked boldly. Tom looked startled, laughed, then seeing that the question was not intended as a joke, adjusted his countenance accordingly. “That was first love, Emma, for both of us,” he said solemnly. “We were very young - marriage was out of the question.” “But it isn't now,” Emma pointed out. “Er…no,” he said. Two waiters appeared at that moment with a pair of plates covered by chromium-plated domes, which were lifted off with synchronised precision under their noses. “But we're two different people, Emma,” he said, when they had gone. “We haven't met for years, apart from that reunion last summer. Perhaps we could start seeing each other again, occasionally - the rail service between London and here is really very good now…Who knows what might develop? This concoction looks interesting - how's your fish?” “The thing is,” she said, “There really isn't a lot of time, if we're to take advantage of the