‘Yes, sir.’
The driver hurried to open the passenger door and Daniels stepped out into a battery of flashlights to which he seemed oblivious. He reached for Anna’s hand and helped her from the car. He held her elbow reassuringly as she stepped onto the red carpet.
‘Mr Daniels, can you look this way? Alan!’
‘Right, Anna — full steam ahead,’ he said gently.
‘Alan, to the right! Alan, just one for us.’
‘Do you mind? I’d better give them something,’ he murmured.
‘No. Of course not.’
He paused to smile briefly, hardly breaking his step.
They reached the end of the red carpet. ‘ALAN, ALAN!’ the photographers yelled out, in a final burst of frenzied flashlights. Turning round, he put his arm round Anna’s waist and murmured to her, ‘Last one. Smile for the camera.’
The couple moved into the Opera House lobby, where two girls tentatively approached Daniels with autograph books. He signed graciously, but kept Anna close, his arm encircling her waist.
‘The reception’s straight up those stairs, one flight.’
He guided her expertly through the throngs of people. Anna was quite overawed by the glamour of the Opera House scene, but Daniels seemed at ease, managing to sign two more autographs, yet all the while making progress through the crowd and into the private reception on the first floor. Though she saw him dig into his inside pocket for the invitation, they were waved through immediately.
The men wore black tie and the women were in elegant gowns. A number of people welcomed Daniels.
Whenever he was thanked for coming, he would respond: ‘Here’s the real reason I’m here. May I introduce you to Miss Travis? Anna adores the ballet.’
A waiter was standing nearby with a tray of glasses of champagne. Daniels handed a glass to Anna with a flourish.
‘Thank you.’ She was feeling hot in a room with so many people. She had drunk almost half the glass immediately when she noticed he was sipping iced water.
They stood slightly to one side, looking over the throng of people. He whispered: ‘The charity event tonight is for Christ only knows what, either AIDS, or breast cancer, or some country overflowing with orphans. They like to wheel in the odd celebrity. There’s quite a few here, actually.’ He looked over the room appraisingly.
She was very aware of how many glances he attracted. As he put his glass down on a tray carried by a passing waiter, he picked up a fresh glass of champagne for Anna.
‘I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Nonsense, have another. It’s free.’
She took it, smiling her thanks.
‘I did ballet as a child.’ She offered up this titbit of information for want of anything more stimulating to say.
‘Really? I can’t quite see you as a dancer.’
‘I switched to ponies. I could never keep time to the music, let alone remember the steps.’
Although Daniels gave a polite smile, he seemed more interested in surveying the guests.
Over the loudspeaker came the sound of a bell. With a flourish, Alan signed a final autograph for the waiter as Anna put her second empty glass on the tray. They strolled towards the Royal Circle. As they approached, an usherette removed a single glossy programme from the stack under her arm and held it aloft in a neatly gloved hand.
‘Good evening, Mr Daniels. Welcome to the Royal Opera House. Would you care for a souvenir programme?’
Anna, surprised, watched Alan peel off a fifty-pound note and tell the usher to keep the change.
‘Thank you very much, Mr Daniels,’ she said.
‘My pleasure; it’s all for a good cause.’
He guided Anna down the aisle, whispering conspiratorially, ‘Whatever it is.’
As soon as their backs were turned, the usherette placed the fifty-pound note in a plastic bag, sealed it and handed the programmes to the head usher, before she quickly left the building. She had done her job for the evening.
Langton received the call to say they had removed a glass with Daniels’s prints from the bar at the Opera House, plus a fifty-pound note.
‘It’s doubtful the note will be any good to us for prints. Christ knows how many people would have handled it before Daniels. How’s she doing?’ he asked. ‘Fine. Apparently the curtain’s just about to go up.’ As they waited for the curtain to rise, Anna looked around the sumptuous theatre in total awe. Beside her, Daniels was turning the glossy pages of the programme, occasionally leaning close to show photographs of particular dancers to her, but he did not attempt to touch her. As the first act of Swan Lake began, he sat forward in his seat, concentrating on the stage.
Langton was asleep on the sofa when the next call came in.
‘Started the last act. So management says that means they should be leaving the theatre in about half an hour.’
‘Good. Bloody long show. It’s already after ten,’ he muttered.
Inside the Opera House Anna was on her feet beside Daniels, applauding with enthusiasm. As the dancers took their bows, there were cheers and bouquets of flowers were presented to the principals before they left the stage followed by the rest of the company.
‘Right.’ Alan yawned. He checked his watch. ‘It’s completely up to you. We can push our way backstage and try to say hello to Darcey, or we can go straight to supper. What would you prefer?’
‘Mmm, that’s an impossible choice,’ she said.
‘Shall we just go and eat?’
‘Yes, please. I’m starving.’
‘The Ivy it is, then.’ As they left their row of seats and walked up the aisle, he was instructing their driver on his mobile phone to meet them out front.
Their chauffeur was waiting at the wheel. Daniels made sure Anna was seated comfortably in the car before he got in. He leaned back against the headrest, observing her. ‘Did you enjoy it as much as you’d expected?’
‘Oh yes. The dancing was extraordinary, didn’t you think?’
He closed his eyes, which she took as a cue not to speak. The drive to the restaurant took no more than ten minutes. When they got out of the car, a knot of photographers started calling out his name, but this time he ignored the cameras completely, hurrying Anna past the autograph seekers and through the front door.
From their banquette at one of the best tables he pointed out the location of the ladies. He then suggested they order the salmon fishcakes.
‘I, er … do need to go,’ Anna murmured. Daniels rose to his feet and drew the table out for her. ‘Would you order for me?’ She purposefully left her purse on the table, giving him every opportunity to check the contents.
By the time she returned, a bottle of champagne had been placed on ice and her evening bag seemed to be in the exact same place. Daniels helped her back into the banquette. After the waiter had poured the champagne, he lifted his glass to hers.