His words fell into the air.
She went on staring at him, her expression unchanging.
Again there was that movement in his eyes. She still could not read it.
‘Did you hear me, Portia?’
‘Yes.’
Her voice came from very far away.
‘Your flight has been booked. A car will take you to the airport.’
She could only go on staring at him.
His mouth tightened.
‘Portia—’
Her name hung in the air, and then without a word he slid the glass door shut and went inside.
She went on standing there, entirely, totally motionless. She could not see through the tinted glass of the balcony door. He had gone, disappeared from view.
For a long, long time she went on standing there.
When she finally lifted her hand from the balustrade to go indoors she found it was shaking.
CHAPTER TEN
HER flat was unchanged. Everything exactly as she had left it.
Yet she was completely changed. A different person.
As she set down her valise in the bedroom, her eyes caught her reflection in the looking glass on her dressing table. They slid away as quickly as possible, but not before she had seen the gaunt, thin figure in the glass.
She turned away, looking around her blankly.
She didn’t know what to do.
Her mind did not seem to be working. She was still encased in the same deadening blanket that had surrounded her since she had walked back into the hotel room in Hong Kong from the balcony and realised that Diego had gone.
For want of something to do she went into the kitchen, running cold water and filling the kettle, staring about at the familiar units and appliances.
A cup of tea. That was what people had when they came back home after a journey. They had a cup of tea.
&n
bsp; With immense effort she went through the motions of making tea in a mug with a teabag, then took it through into the sitting room. She switched on a table-lamp and sank back into the sofa. She felt so tired she thought she would never move again.
It was nearly midnight. The flight had deposited her at Heathrow some time after nine o’clock, but she had only been able to move in slow motion through the airport, and there had been a long queue for taxis.
She rested her head on the back of the sofa, shutting her eyes.
She wanted to feel something. Anything.
But all there was was that thick, deadening blanket, all around her.
She was home.