Night Over Water - Ken Follett [94]
She was hoping that the party would split up, but they stayed together in a knot, like explorers afraid of getting lost. She began to feel trapped. Time was passing. They went by another bar, and she suddenly said to Mark: “Let’s go in there.”
Lulu immediately said: “What a great idea—there’s nothing to see in Foynes.”
Diana had had quite enough of Lulu. “I’d really like to talk to Mark alone,” she said crossly.
Mark was embarrassed. “Honey!” he protested.
“Don’t worry!” Lulu said immediately. “We’ll walk on, and leave you lovers alone. There’ll be another bar, if I know anything at all about Ireland!” Her tone was gay, but her eyes were cold.
Mark said: “I’m sorry, Lulu—”
“Don’t be!” she said brightly.
Diana did not like Mark apologizing for her. She turned on her heel and went into the building, leaving him to follow at his leisure.
The place was dim and cool. There was a high bar, with bottles and barrels racked behind it. In front were a few wooden tables and chairs on a plank floor. Two old men sitting in the comer stared up at Diana. She was wearing an orange-red silk coat over her dotted dress. She felt like a princess in a pawnshop.
A small woman in an apron appeared behind the bar. Diana said: “May I have a brandy, please?” She wanted some Dutch courage. She sat down at a small table.
Mark came in—probably having apologized some more to Lulu, Diana thought sourly. He sat beside her and said: “What was all that about?”
“I’ve had enough of Lulu,” Diana said.
“Why did you have to be so rude?”
“I wasn’t rude. I simply said I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Couldn’t you have found a more tactful way of saying so?”
“I think she’s probably oblivious to hints.”
He looked annoyed and defensive. “Well, you’re wrong. She’s actually a sensitive person, although she seems brash.”
“It doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“How can it not matter? You’ve just offended one of my oldest friends!”
The barmaid brought Diana’s brandy. She drank some quickly to steel her nerve. Mark ordered a glass of Guinness. Diana said: “It doesn’t matter because I’ve changed my mind about this whole thing, and I’m not coming to America with you.”
He went pale. “You can’t mean that.”
“I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to go. I’m going back to Mervyn—if he’ll have me.” But she felt sure he would.
“You don’t love him. You told me that. And I know it’s true.”
“What do you know? You’ve never been married.” He looked hurt, and she softened. She put her hand on his knee. “You’re right. I don’t love Mervyn the way I love you.” She felt ashamed of herself, and took her hand away. “But it’s no good.”
“I’ve been paying too much attention to Lulu,” Mark said penitently. “I’m sorry, honey. I apologize. I guess I got wrapped up in her because it’s so long since last I saw her. I’ve been ignoring you. This is our big adventure, and I forgot that for an hour. Please forgive me.”
He was sweet when he felt he had been wrong: he had a sorrowful expression that looked boyish. Diana forced herself to remember how she had been feeling an hour ago. “It’s not just Lulu,” she said. “I think I’ve been foolhardy.”
The barmaid brought Mark’s drink but he did not touch it.
Diana went on. “I’ve left everything I know: home, husband, friends and country. I’m on a flight across the Atlantic, which is dangerous in itself. And I’m going to a strange country where I have no friends, no money, nothing.”
Mark looked distraught. “Oh, God, I see what I’ve done. I abandoned you just when you were feeling vulnerable. Baby, I feel such a horse’s ass. I promise I’ll never do that again.”
Perhaps he would keep such a promise, and perhaps he would not. He was loving, but he was also easygoing. It was not in him to stick to a plan. He was sincere now, but would he remember his vow next time he ran into an old friend? It was his playful attitude to life that had attracted Diana in the first place; and now, ironically,