Chapter Nine
Not long after, it was her birthday. Roberto arranged a treat for her. The following day, a Saturday, there was to be a party for her friends. But on the Friday, the actual day of her twenty-fifth birthday, Roberto had booked a Chinese chef to come to his house and cook them a special dinner. It had been totally delicious, the crispy duck done to a turn, the spicy prawns mouth-watering, the noodles a revelation. When the chef had packed up and left them, Roberto poured them large brandies and took Sophie into his study. They lay on cushions on the floor before the log fire, rather an indulgence for early October.
“Sophie,” Roberto said. “I must speak to you.”
“Sounds ominous.” She stroked his hair back from his eyes.
“No, not ominous, but momentous, maybe.” He was silent f
