Jane dressed in the head so that she wouldn’t be offering her husband any suggestion of intimacy. Right now, she didn’t feel like being in his arms. The easy, loving husband she was just learning to love had deserted her. The secretive, paranoid power broker she feared was back in business.
There was an uneasy silence over their lunch. His mood had obviously changed with the telephone call, probably because he now suspected that his wife was searching into the dark corners of his past. He kept up the pretense of good humor, complimenting the food and cheerfully recalling the morning’s visit to the caves. But his enthusiasm was hollow and difficult to sustain. Clearly his mind was elsewhere. For her part, Jane felt as if she had been thrown back to the periphery of his life. She was outside his protective wall, and he was perfectly willing to lie to keep her there. Kay Parker and her untimely death were at the core of his being, and he would go to any length to keep them from being disturbed.
They set sail again, back on the easterly heading that required them to tack across the wind every few minutes. Andrews again became the enthusiastic captain, lavishing praise on even her most routine accomplishments. She was still excited in her role as partner in keeping the boat alive in the face of headwinds. The sheet handling, the crackling of the sails, and the occasional bath in salty spray took her mind off the betrayal she had suffered. It even brought her husband back from the edge of gloom that he had been tottering on.
They found a mooring off the beach at Cooper Island and went ashore to a small resort that was built just out of sight behind the first row of trees. Bill promised her the best rum punch in the islands and made good at a small bar that stood at the water’s edge. They ordered a second, carrying their drinks with them to the resort dining room, where they feasted on lobster. They were both more relaxed when they motored back to their boat and made love passionately while stretched out in the dinghy. Then they skinny-dipped from the inflatable to the swim platform and fell into their bed.
Andrews fell asleep right away, but Jane found herself tossing. Despite his reassurances and the pleasure she found in his company, she was beginning to doubt that she truly loved him. She had felt love in the strength of his embrace and in the moments when they were handling their boat with skill and vigor. But there was no abiding love that she could count on to see her through the difficult moments. How could there be when she couldn’t trust him? It seemed that the most she could hope for was to be his occasional wife. As he had said of Kay Parker, he wasn’t going to give anyone even a temporary advantage over him.
She decided to confront him. A straight question! Are you offering Roscoe a promotion to stop his inquiries about Selina Royce? Or perhaps more direct. Who is this woman, and why are you paying her a fortune every month? Or even, Exactly how did your first wife die?
He would be startled and defensive, but the issue would be on the table without any ambiguity. He would have to decide to tell her and take her into his confidence, or lie and shut her out forever. And then, maybe, with the truth as a backdrop, they could begin building a real, full-time marriage.
But in the morning, her courage deserted her. He seemed eager to please her and enthused over their next port, called The Baths, a crystal-clear pool surrounded by gigantic boulders on the island of Virgin Gorda. The gloomy introspection she had noticed the day before seemed to be gone. And, in truth, she was afraid. Afraid that her questions would widen the chasm that had cracked open between them, or even bring on the kind of power play she had heard him use as a threat to Roscoe. She could be a team player and reap the bountiful rewards. Or she could be obstinate and find herself out in the cold. Or maybe even dead, like William Andrews’s first wife. That thought made the boat seem isolated and dangerous.
He took another phone call. Or maybe he had placed the call. Jane couldn’t know for sure. He swam back from the beach supposedly to start their dinner, leaving her to explore the pools that were formed under the boulders. He was going to return in the dinghy to pick her up, but Jane decided to swim back. When she reached the ladder, she heard him talking inside the cabin. He hung up as soon as she climbed into the cockpit.
“Another emergency?” she asked sarcastically.
He seemed annoyed that she had caught him. “It was just something I thought of. A question that I wanted to get settled. I picked a time when you wouldn’t be bothered by it.”
“What was the question?” She wondered how much further he would carry his lie.
“A technical issue. Nothing interesting.” He wasn’t going to explain himself. Instead, he began preparations for getting under way.
“I thought we were going to eat here,” Jane reminded him.
“I know another spot just a bit up the coast,” he said. “I think you’ll like it better.”
They set sail, this time with the wind coming from the starboard quarter. They were heeling only a bit and making good time over calm seas. He had fallen quiet, despite her attempts to make conversation. She could tell he was distracted, deep in thoughts that he had no intention of sharing. Jane went below and fixed them each a drink, rum painkillers, sweet but potent. They sipped while the sun made another fiery exit.
The wind picked up, driving them even faster. The flat sea came alive with rollers that picked up the stern of the boat and pushed it like a surfboard. “This is exciting,” Jane said, not sure whether she was just excited or maybe a bit apprehensive. “We’re making good time,” he answered, but still didn’t open up to conversation.
Jane stood to go below into the cabin, thinking that finger snacks would help her cope with the drink. At that instant the boat jolted to leeward, sending her staggering into the lifeline. She turned just as the boom jibed and came flying toward her head. She put up her arms, protecting her head as the boom drove into her. She felt the lifeline sliding down her back. Then she was falling over backwards into the white wake that was rushing by. She plunged into the cold darkness.
She was fully alert when she came to the surface. There was still enough light in the sky for her to make out the boat racing away from her. She could hear Bill screaming at her, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. He threw something—the life ring that was fixed to the rear of the cockpit. She saw it land halfway between her and the boat. But it disappeared behind the swells that had been pushing them. She gulped in air and began swimming in the direction of where the ring had hit the water. But she was afraid that each new swell was pushing it farther away from her. Maybe it was better to save her energy so she could keep herself afloat.
The boat was still moving away, turning across the wind as if coming back to her. Bill seemed to be standing at the foot of the mast, working on the lines. But Jane was bobbing up and down in the waves and lost sight of the boat each time she was down. It was rapidly growing dark. In another few minutes she wouldn’t be able to see the boat at all.
She was down between swells, alone and suddenly frightened. When she rose up, she caught sight of the boat, its sails lowered, pitching broadside over the waves. The sea and the wind were pushing it farther away. It seemed powerless to turn back to her. She couldn’t see the life ring. It had to be within twenty yards of her, probably just on the far side of the next sea swell. But then she was falling down behind a wave, dropping into a trough where there was just water and sky.