Chapter 241

• THE statement seemed to have brought a new lucidity to Leandro, for he rose from the chair in one brisk yet fluid movement, and drained his glass before putting away the bottle of whisky.
• Zoe watched him, unspeaking, not knowing what to say. There was a brittleness, she saw, to his movements; his face was averted from her. When he’d finished his tidying tasks he moved to the window, his back to her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, and gazed out into the night.
• ‘I used to play football out on the front lawn,’ he said after a moment. ‘My father loved the game. We played together.’ He spoke in the same flat voice he’d been using all along, yet Zoe thought she heard a thread of wistfulness underneath, a ghost of memory.