Page 98 of The Splendour Falls

The question vanished and he smiled. “Thank God for that,” he said. “I thought you might have wasted it.” And then he raised a hand to touch my face, a touch of promise, warm and sure, and as I struggled to smile back at him he kissed me. It felt so very right, so beautiful; tears pricked behind my lashes as life flowed through all my hollow limbs, and I lost all sense of place and time. It might have been a minute or an hour later when he moved, slanting a thoughtful look down at the black-and-white bundle of fur in my arms. The cat stared back at him, a trifle smugly.

“I suppose,” said Neil, “that this beast will have to come with us?”

Just like that. I stared up at him. “I thought you said your landlady hated cats?”

“Yes, well, she doesn’t much like other women, either, but I fancy she’ll get used to both of you. Even Austrian landladies,” he informed me, “recognize the hand of destiny at work.” His own hand felt very warm as he smoothed my hair back. “Still, we’d better see to it the little fleabag gets his injections. Have you named him yet?”

I hadn’t really thought about it, but quite suddenly I knew there was just one name that would fit. “Ulysses,” I told Neil. “His name’s Ulysses.”

A flash of understanding passed between us, and his dark eyes smiled down at me. “Right. Put Ulysses down, then, will you?”

“Why?”

“Just put him down.”

The cat yawned grumpily as I lowered him to the pavement. A stiff breeze scattered the fountain’s spray around the three bronze Graces, and the cat leaped safely out of range, moving to resume his nap beneath the nearest bench. The fountain’s spray struck me as well, as cold as ice, but I didn’t really mind it. Neil’s eyes, his smile, his touch, were warmth enough. Maybe he was right, I thought—it might not be so difficult, believing. I lifted my own hand to touch his face, his hair, to bring his head lower. And in the moment just before he kissed me, I could have sworn that, past his shoulder, Splendour smiled.

THE END