Читать книгу A Pure Clear Light - Madeleine John St. - Страница 11

Apparently not. Apparently no one wanted to hook up with Lydia. ‘But how old exactly is she now? Thirty-five-ish?’ Simon asked Flora, on the way home from that particular dinner party.

Flora was driving; Simon had been knocking back the Pinot Noir like no one’s business. ‘She’s, well, a bit older than I am,’ said Flora. ‘She came up late to Cambridge: she went out to Australia for a few years after she left school.’

‘Oh,’ said Simon. He made no mention of his having heard the tale of Lydia’s errant mother. You’d have thought his interest in the subject was nil. Well, and so it was.

‘Her mother lives out there,’ Flora went on. ‘She has a gallery. In Sydney.’

‘No kidding,’ said Simon. Flora glanced at him. Well! It was, after all, he who had raised the topic of Lydia. ‘Isn’t it time old Lydia found herself a bloke?’ he’d said, as they were driving along the embankment. ‘She isn’t old,’ Flora had replied.

Simon thought, for one last moment, of Lydia: there was only one way to find out who she was, and he wasn’t going to do so. He didn’t even want to. Would anyone?