‘Is that right? I’ll remind Rosa of that later!’ Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a fountain pen. ‘We’re all going to be very busy for the next few days. You too, my dear,’ he said, smiling warmly at Prudence. ‘Outsiders don’t generally get to go to Romany gatherings, but you’re our guest, so you’ll be welcomed as one of the family.’
Prudence felt the blood drain from her face. She glanced anxiously across at Laszlo, to gauge his reaction to Janos’s words, but he was leaning forward unconcernedly, scratching Besnik’s ears. Perhaps he hadn’t heard—for surely if he had he would be making some sort of objection? After all, he wouldn’t actually want her mixing with his family. It had been nerve-racking enough meeting Mihaly.
Janos looked up and frowned. ‘I imagine Kajan will be wanting a bolimos after the christening?’ He turned towards Prudence. ‘Kajan is the most senior member of the Cziffr
a family. Between the two of us, we brought Laszlo up.’
Feeling slightly sick, Prudence nodded weakly. If only Laszlo would pay attention!
She felt a swell of relief as he looked up distractedly and frowned. Thank goodness! Now he would intervene and tell Janos that she couldn’t possibly come to some intimate family gathering.
But after a moment, he simply nodded and said, ‘Yes. I was thinking we might hold it in the barn. We’ll need that much room for the tables and the dancing.’
Janos glanced across to where Prudence sat, quietly frozen, looking at her hands. ‘A bolimos is great fun. It’s like a huge feast and party combined. And the whole kumpania turn out for one. Men, women, children... So you’ll have a chance to meet everyone.’
Prudence forced herself to smile. ‘That’s really very kind of you, but I don’t think I should intrude—’
Frowning, Janos glanced up at the clock. ‘Nonsense. Laszlo—make Prudence see sense. I am going to find Rosa, and then we’ll all have a glass of champagne to celebrate.’
Wordlessly, Prudence watched him leave, and then, turning to Laszlo, she said breathlessly, ‘Why didn’t you say something? You know I can’t come!’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Seriously? You’re worried about intruding? Shall I remind you of how you got your job back?’
‘Of course I’m not worried about intruding,’ she said crossly. Why was he being so obtuse? ‘If you won’t say something then I’ll have to speak to your grandfather...’
He frowned. ‘It’s just a christening and a party.’
She looked at him incredulously. ‘But you don’t know who’s going to be there. What if someone recognises me?’
He shrugged. ‘They won’t. But even if they did, like I said, they wouldn’t say anything.’ He studied her for a moment with that mixture of bafflement and irritation she knew so well, and then, at last, he said softly, ‘Besides, they won’t remember you. There were always loads of gadje girls hanging round the site. I doubt they could tell any of you apart.’
Prudence shivered. She felt numb inside. How could a few randomly combined words cause so much pain? And how could he be so insensitive, so brutal when he’d been so loving just hours ago? But then, love had nothing to do with his earlier tenderness during sex. His kisses and caresses were simply designed to excite and arouse. Any impression of feeling was a mistake on her part.
‘I see.’
Her response was automatic. She’d just needed to say something—anything to slow the suffocating, relentless misery rolling over her. And it worked, for anger was slowly supplanting the exhaustion.
‘Let’s hope that’s true for both our sakes. And now I think I’ll go and look at some pretty pictures!’
She stood up quickly, but he was quicker.
‘I’m sorry!’
His voice was so taut, so savage that it took her a moment to understand that he was apologising.
‘What?’ she said dazedly. ‘What did you say?’
She watched him shake his head, saw muscle tighten beneath his shirt and thought that she must have misheard him.
And then he said quietly, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I didn’t mean what I said.’
His words seemed to be scrabbling out of his mouth, and with shock she saw that there was fear and misery in his eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered again. ‘Don’t go. Please.’
Prudence regarded him in silence. Even though he’d hurt her so badly, she felt an urge to reach out and comfort him. Stifling it, she lifted her chin. ‘Why did you say it, then?’
He shook his head again. ‘I don’t know. To hurt you, I suppose.’