Mark, well, naturally, it came as a bit of a shock.’
Serena’s eyes hardened. ‘Anna? When you saw Anna with Mark?’
Geoffrey nodded.
‘Go on.’
‘Well, I wondered, then and there. Ought I to tell him?’
‘Tell him what? I just want to make sure I’ve got it clear.’ Serena was suddenly paying close attention, and Geoffrey was flattered.
‘ Well, that Anna isn’t a concert pianist,’ he said expansively. ‘His fiancée’s a fraud.’
‘A ring?’ Mr Harvey, a small, dapper man, bowed from the waist. ‘But of course.’ He turned to look at Anna. ‘I’m sure we will find something that is to your taste. But if not, we can always make one. We have a fine selection of stones, and we can design a band to your own specifications, or supply you with a choice from our best designers.’
Anna looked at the trays and trays of rings that had been brought out for her inspection. There was nothing mass produced here, like the rings she had seen on jeweller’s pads in shop windows, and like . . . the memory eluded her, and she did not chase it. There was too much to look at, and too much to think about. Her memories would have to wait.
The trays were laid out on a large table. So far there were about a dozen. Each one held six rows of three rings, all embedded in velvet. As he spoke, Mr Harvey displayed yet another tray. 'Perhaps these will do to be going on with. Emeralds, I think you said?’
‘Yes.’ Mark’s reply was brief.
Anna was relieved that he had suggested emeralds. Somehow, the thought of a diamond had given her a chill. But emeralds . . . warm, green emeralds . . . yes, she would enjoy wearing a ring like that.
The choice was enormous. The trays were all different, but within each tray the rings were largely the same. Some held rings with stones the size of nuts. Others had emeralds set amidst other gems. Some were in white gold, others in yellow or red.
‘Not that one,’ said Anna, dismissing the tray which held the largest jewels. They were too showy for her tastes.
Mark’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, as though he had expected her to choose the most expensive ring on offer.
‘And not that one,’ she said, rejecting another tray whose rings were in yellow gold. Somehow she had a bad feeling about yellow gold . . .
Mr Harvey nodded. He was beginning to realise that Anna had definite tastes, and to see what they were.
‘Something bright,’ she said, running her eyes over the other rings.
‘Like a butterfly,’ said Mark.
She looked at him in surprise.
‘When you played yesterday, it reminded me of a butterfly. Bright and iridescent.' His eyes crinkled into a smile. ‘That’s how I see you. Elusive, and somehow not quite of this world. You should have a ring to match.’
‘Ah!’ Mr Harvey’s eyes lit up. ‘I will not be long.’
He hurried out of the room.
‘I wonder what he’s bringing us,’ said Mark with a questioning smile.
‘Something he’s proud of,’ laughed Anna. ‘I wonder what it can be?’
Their question was soon answered. Mr Harvey was as good as his word, and before many minutes had passed he returned. To their surprise, he brought a young man with him. The young man, tall and thin, with long-fingered artistic hands, held something on a small cushion.
‘This is Stuart, one of our most gifted designers. He has just finished a ring that I think might interest you.’
Stuart put the cushion on the table, and Anna saw a truly exquisite ring. The band was made of twined red and white gold and was set with emeralds, sapphires and rubies which threw out brilliant flashes of colour as they caught the light.
‘That’s the ring,’ said Mark, echoing Anna’s thoughts as she picked it up and turned it in her hand.
‘What ring size are you?’ asked Mr Harvey.
Anna hesitated. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘It looks about the right size,’ said Mr Harvey judiciously. ‘Why not try it on?’
Anna was about to slip the band over her finger when
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