Instead she tossed her head so that her pony tail swung and said carelessly, ‘Then you got it.’ She thought about it. ‘I’ll even give you my totally ordinary thoughts on your analysis,’ she added wickedly.
Jay stayed calm under this provocation. ‘I look forward to it.’
Zoe looked at him with deep suspicion. ‘Do you? Why?’
‘The right-hand-side bias,’ he said mysteriously.
‘What?’
Jay was bland. ‘Tom Skellern’s profile analysis.’
Zoe frowned. ‘You mean that pointless test? What about it?’
Jay stopped and leaned on the wall, looking down into the busy canal. Dark gondolas jostled each other in duels for precedence. They just managed not to touch as the winner swept away with a flourish. Vaporetti chugged. People on the other bank strolled hand in hand. He propped his elbows on the river wall and locked his hands together.
He said, ‘If you’re interested in the PR business there’s a spectrum of response. Male attitudes at the extreme left, female at the right. Most people are somewhere in the middle. But you particularly are hard on the right-hand side. Very girly.’
‘Girly?’ Zoe was revolted and did not try to hide it.
He smiled. ‘Tom’s score calls the category that you come into the Boyfriend’s Dream.’
She tensed. ‘Oh?’
‘Sorry about that,’ he said, unconvincingly. ‘Touch of political incorrectness there. But the message is—you’re all woman. And,’ he added with an abrupt return to the prosaic, ‘there won’t be a lot of them at the conference tomorrow.’
‘Then I’ll be glad to fill in,’ said Zoe between her teeth.
All woman!
If only he meant it. And if only it was what Jay really thought, rather than the result of Tom Skellern’s multiple choice questionnaire, she thought, depressed. If only it was what he thought after last night, in her arms!
She turned and leaned on the wall beside him, turning her head away. She had done her best to stay bright all day. But now she could not deny the emptiness between them any more.
Oh, he had made love to her, fair enough. He had said he would and he had kept his promise. More than kept his promise, she thought. There was warmth round her heart when she thought of the care he had taken of her.
But today, though he was trying, he was as far away as the moon. Zoe kept trying to work out why and she simply could not find the answer. He was not embarrassed, of course. He was much too sophisticated for that. And not emotionally involved, either. That had been implicit in the deal.
So what was it? Something was wrong; she knew it.
And then she remembered him saying, a lifetime ago, ‘Once you’ve made up your mind to do something you don’t want to, the best thing is to get it over with.’
Well, it felt like a lifetime ago. But it had only been Friday night. Less than two days. And he had got it over, all right, hadn’t he? At the time she had thought he was talking about her feelings. But now she realised he had been talking about his own.
He hadn’t wanted to do it. But he had.
And, in doing so, he had caused her a little pain. He had not been prepared for that. Zoe had seen how it had shocked him.
Hell, she thought, staring out across afternoon Venice. I’ve made him ashamed of himself. He’s never going to forgive me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE rest of that day they walked, until Venice was swimming before Zoe’s eyes.
Then Jay took her to some famous bar for a drink; then another, less famous, for jazz. They ate in a bistro. It was full and noisy, with families and a huge party of people who turned out to be gondoliers at the central table. Jay chatted to them in easy Italian and he and Zoe joined them in toasting the newest member of the group, for whom the dinner was being held.
When they left she nearly said, We’re going to have to talk. We have to share a bed tonight and we have been walking round the subject all day.
But Jay got in first.
‘They told me where the best club is,’ he said. ‘They’re not as ageist in Venice as they are in London. They’ll probably even let me in.’
They did. It was not so different from the clubs where Zoe danced at home. Maybe a bit smaller, and the drinks were different. More wine, less vodka. But the atmosphere was the same and so was the music.