Chapter  TWENTY-FIVE

As the taxi edged forward in the solid Park Avenue traffic, Jennifer glanced at her watch. Five to seven already, and the restaurant was still another twelve blocks away. There was no way she was going to make it in the next five minutes. She leaned sideways, feeling the dampness of her shirt becoming unstuck from the dirty plastic of the seat due to the overpowering humidity outside and the lack of air-conditioning within, and looked past the driver to see the jam stretching up as far as Grand Central. She pushed herself forward in the seat and knocked on the partition glass. The driver reached back and slid it to one side.

“Ye, leddy?” he said in an accent that gave Jennifer little confidence in his ability to find the Empire State Building, let alone the Ocean Floor restaurant.

“Can’t you cut across to Lexington or Third and try going up there? This is hopeless.”

The driver smiled at her and nodded in agreement, at the same time holding up his hands and slapping them down hard against the orange acrylic steering-wheel cover.

“Yez, hopless!” he said, and remained where he was.

Jennifer stared at the back of his head, waiting for him to spin the steering wheel and make an attempt to cut off to the right, but he seemed happy to sit and wait for the traffic to start moving again, rocking his head from side to side in time to the strangled tones of the Middle Eastern singer that blared from his stereo.

She turned and looked around her in every direction to see if there was another taxi free anywhere nearby, but every one had its light off. Anyway, it would probably be out of the frying pan into the fire. She pushed her hair back off her forehead, feeling the dampness of it clammy on her hand, then, picking up her handbag, she took out her mobile phone and dialled Alex’s number. It was engaged. She turned it off and threw it back into her handbag, and leaned forward once more to the open partition glass.

“Can’t you at least turn on the air-conditioning?” she said angrily.

It was seven o’clock. Alex would be there by now. He was never late. She knew that, and that was why she had left the office in good time so that she could be there before him. But now it had been a full twenty-five minutes that she had been stuck in this taxi. She rolled down the window, only to be hit by a blast of air that was as hot as a hair-dryer and which only exacerbated her present discomfort. She rolled it up again and sat back to wait.

She hadn’t seen him since the tennis party. He had left a message on the answerphone at the apartment, saying that he’d had to go to Dallas after all. “Unavoidable” was the word he had used. What was new? It was always unavoidable as far as Alex was concerned. Not that it mattered much. She had been working every hour that God had given her on the Tarvy’s contract, so they probably wouldn’t have seen much of each other at any rate. She shook her head. The bloody contract. Nothing she had produced so far gave her overwhelming confidence that they would secure it. Maybe Russ had been right. Maybe they were trying to bite off more than they could chew.

For no apparent reason, the traffic suddenly began to move again, and the driver turned and grinned, obviously thinking that theirs was now a well-bonded relationship following their brief but mutually misunderstood exchange of words.

“Ye, leddy, we move now!” He nodded contentedly and slowly the car began to roll forward up Park.

By the time they made it to the Ocean Floor, the time was edging towards twenty past seven. Having paid her budding linguist, Jennifer jumped out of the taxi and ran across the sidewalk into the restaurant.

The place was only half-full, with the consequence that she was greeted by three white-aproned waiters, obviously eager for any passing trade that they could muster. At that point, she spied Alex sitting over at a table in the corner of the room, laughing as he talked into his mobile phone. She cut a path through her welcoming committee, leaving them with frowns of resigned disappointment on their faces.

Seeing her approach, Alex quickly pressed the “end” button on the phone and tucked it away in the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Sorry I’m late, darling,” she said, slinging her handbag over the back of the chair. “The traffic was lousy.”

Alex got up and reached over the table and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“You looked happy just then on the phone,” she said, pulling out the chair and sitting down. “Do I take it that all went well in Dallas, then?”

“Not really. That was just a social call to, er”—he faltered for a second—“to John. Now listen.” He picked up the menu and made a show studying it. “I didn’t know when you were going to arrive, so I’ve ordered you mussels and swordfish. I hope that’s all right?”

“Fine.” She reached forward to pick up her napkin, but was outmanouevred by a waiter who quickly plucked it away from her outstretched hand and, flicking it open, placed it on her lap.

“Good eat!” he said, smiling broadly at Jennifer.

Jennifer watched him turn and walk away. “Does no one speak English in this city any more?”

“What?” Alex asked.

“Oh, nothing,” she sighed, shaking her head. She leaned on the table and cupped her chin on the back of her linked hands. “So Dallas wasn’t a success, then?”

“No, not really.” He reached over with the wine bottle and filled her glass. “I mean, I think it’ll work out in the long run, but the company we’re dealing with seems pretty edgy about the new system. It’s just a question of earning their confidence.”

Jennifer nodded slowly, understanding the implications. “Meaning that you’re going to have to hold their hand for the time being.”

Alex let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid so. I’m heading straight back there after San Francisco.” He glanced around the restaurant to see if there was any sign of their food, then pushed back the sleeve of his shirt and looked at his watch. “I hope they’re quick. I can’t be too long.” He turned back to Jennifer. “So how’s the new contract going?”

Jennifer leaned back in her chair. “We haven’t got it yet, Alex. I’m just doing the proposal at the moment, but the problem is that it’s completely new ground for me. I’m not really sure if I’ve hit it quite right so far, but…”

She tailed off, realizing that he wasn’t listening. He was looking at his watch again and turning round to see if their food was arriving. At that point, a waiter came backwards through the kitchen doors and headed for their table with two plates held high in his hands.

“Mussels?”

Jennifer nodded and the waiter placed the steaming bowl in front of her.

“I get you finger-bowl, madam—and for you, sir, seafood salad.”

“Thank you.” Alex looked up at the waiter. “Could you see if we can get our second course as quickly as possible? I have a plane to catch.”

With a smile and a bow, the waiter turned briskly on his heel and hurried off back to the kitchen.

“That looks good,” Alex said, picking up his knife and fork. He looked across at Jennifer, who sat staring at him, making no move to start her meal. “What’s the matter? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

She shook her head slowly. “Alex, how long have we been married?”

Alex had taken a mouthful of salad as she asked the question, and stopped with his fork in his mouth. “Whop?”

Jennifer didn’t reply, letting the question sink into Alex’s brain. She picked up one of the mussel shells and tilted it back to her mouth.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“We’ve been married thirteen years now,” she said quietly, “just in case you’ve forgotten, but I could bet you that anyone here who just happened to witness how we’re acting with each other would think that we’ve hardly ever met before. I mean, we’re like total strangers! What have we talked about so far? Your business and mine.” She leaned over the table towards him. “We have a life together, Alex. Thirteen years’ worth of it, for Chrissakes!”

Alex let his knife and fork fall with a clatter to his plate and he raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Come on, Jennifer,” he said in a whisper. “Don’t start making a scene here. People will hear.”

“I am not—making—a—scene!” she hissed at him between clenched teeth. She paused to compose herself. “It’s just that every time we see each other, we seem to drift further and further apart. We don’t seem to have anything in common any more—or do we? What’s gone wrong? We did—no, that’s not right—we do have a really good life together, Alex. You’re my best friend. You’re my lover, though one might not have thought it of late, and you also happen to be my husband and the father of my child. But nowadays, it seems to be all too much like a … a business arrangement.”

Alex cocked his head to the side and continued to eat his meal. “Well, it was you who chose to go back to work. I didn’t make you.”

“Alex, I am not trying to fix blame. I just want for us to be…” Jennifer was interrupted by the waiter, who placed a finger-bowl down in front of her.

“Is our main course on the way?” Alex asked him.

“Yes, sir. On the way.” He turned and left the table, and Jennifer continued. “I just want us to be together more, even if it’s only on weekends.”

“Well, you could always give up your job. You don’t need to work. I’m successful enough.”

“And how does one measure success, Alex?” Jennifer said, louder than she meant. Alex looked round the restaurant to see if anyone was looking in their direction. “Is it the number of zeroes that’s on the paycheck at the end of each month? Or is it how much fun you have with your child, and how much you are involved with his upbringing? Does that count for anything? I mean, right now Jasmine and David seem to be the ones most involved with Benji, especially David, who—”

Alex picked up the napkin from his lap and threw it onto the table, and slapped down his hands hard onto its surface.

“Jennifer, are you comparing my contribution to Benji’s upbringing with that of some … unmotivated good-for-nothing who just walked in off the street? Because if so, I resent that! Okay, Jasmine does a lot for Benji, but that’s what’s she’s paid for, but don’t start giving me all that crap about this guy David. Anyway, Jasmine works in order that we can work, so—come on, you tell me—how much time are you spending with Benji, O perfect mother? It cuts both ways. You do realize that, don’t you?”

Jennifer finished off the last of the mussels and dipped her fingers into the bowl and wiped her hands on her napkin, then let out a long, resigned sigh.

“Okay … I know … you’re right, it does cut both ways. The difference is that I have the whole thing going through my brain all the time. Do you?”

Alex didn’t reply, knowing that whatever he said would be taken in the wrong light. The pause was long enough for Jennifer to realize that what she had intended to be a reasoned discussion was now turning into a heated argument. She reached over and put her hand on his.

“I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just that … well … I just want us to be together more—as a family. I know that might sound like a cliché, but the whole thing seems so hopeless right now!”

The waiter came over and placed their main courses in front of them. Alex glanced at his watch. “Christ, it’s eight o’clock. I haven’t got time to eat this. I’ll have to go, or I’m going to miss the plane.”

Jennifer nodded. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“Are you happy to eat by yourself or do you want to leave it?”

“No, I think I’ve had my fill. Anyway, I don’t know how good this place is. Those mussels tasted a bit strange.”

Alex smiled at her and called back the waiter. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave. We’ve run out of time.”

“But you order food!”

“I know, but we have no time to eat it!”

“But you have to pay for food.”

“Fine!” Alex snapped at him. “Just get the check!”

The waiter pulled a long face and stomped off, and Alex and Jennifer looked at each other for a moment before bursting out into fits of subdued laughter.

“You see what I mean?” Jennifer said. “It’s catching!”

He bent down and picked up his brief-case, then paused before rising to his feet and looked across at Jennifer. “We’ll work it out, darling. I promise you. But it just might take some time, okay?”

Jennifer nodded. “Okay.”

He pushed back his chair. “Come on then. I’ll get a couple of cabs.”

The traffic was by this time much lighter, and Alex had no trouble in flagging down two empty taxis. He walked over to Jennifer and made to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she tilted her head round so that his lips came into contact with her mouth.

“I love you, Alex,” she whispered.

He smiled at her. “Yeah, I know. Look, I’ll give you a call when I’m back, okay?”

“Sure. Have a good trip.”

He nodded, then turned and walked over to the cab and got in. It sped away from the kerb before he had time to close the door, and Jennifer stood watching until it had crossed over the lights on Park Avenue. Oh, Alex, you could have said it too. Not just “yeah.” She put her hand to her forehead, feeling the first pangs of a headache coming on. It must be the humidity, or maybe just the after-effects of their stupid argument. That’s exactly what it was—sheer stupidity, on both their parts. She screwed her eyes tightly shut to try to relieve the pressure building up in her head, and despite the heat she suddenly began to feel cold, with an involuntary shudder at the realization.

“You comin’, lady?” the taxi driver called out to her.

Jennifer hugged her arms around her body and walked over to the car and jumped in the back.

“Where to?”

“Barrymore Street, please.”

“West Village?”

“Yeah.”

The cab sped off and took the lights on Park Avenue at yellow. By the time he had stopped at Fifth Avenue, Jennifer was shivering uncontrollably and her head felt as if it were undergoing a rhythmic pounding from a sledge-hammer. She tapped on the dividing glass, and the driver flicked it open.

“Yup?”

“Would it be possible to turn down the air-conditioning, please?”

“Hell, lady, it’s roasting outside!”

“I know, but I don’t think I feel too good.”

The driver shrugged his shoulders and reached forward and turned a knob on his dashboard. The lights changed to green and he slewed the car round into Fifth Avenue, throwing Jennifer sideways in the seat. She put her hand to her mouth, feeling bile rise from her stomach and a choking sensation at the back of her throat. She reached forward and banged on the glass.

“Stop, please—now!”

The taxi pulled over to the side of the street and Jennifer pushed the door open before it had time to come to a complete standstill. She leaned out and threw up violently into the gutter, the whole scene witnessed by some passers-by, who instinctively withdrew to the far side of the sidewalk, uttering muted groans of revulsion. She closed the door again and fell back in the seat. The driver turned round slowly and eyed her.

“You been drinking, lady?”

Jennifer shook her head weakly.

“’Cos if you been drinking, I won’t have you in my cab.”

“I haven’t been drinking. I think I’ve eaten something.”

“Well, for Chrissakes, don’t throw up in my cab,” he said, thumping his foot hard down on the accelerator, desperate to get her back home before she had a chance to do just that.

By the time they reached the traffic lights on Forty-third Street, Jennifer had had him pull over two more times, each session more violent than the one before. Her head now felt as if it was going to burst and she had to bend forward to try to relieve the unbearable ache in her stomach. Christ, she felt ill—it must have been the … she felt a sudden rush of pressure building up in her bowels—oh, no, please, God no, not that as well!

In her crouched position, she bent forward and knocked on the glass, and with a shake of his head, the driver immediately pulled over to the sidewalk again.

“No, no, don’t stop. I just want to know where we are.”

“Just coming up to Forty-second, lady.”

“Well, could you turn left here, please.”

“Left? But I thought you wanted to go down to the West Village.”

“No, please, turn left. I want to go out to Leesport.”

The driver spun round in his seat. “Leesport? You mean Leesport on Long Island? I can’t go all the way out there. This is my busiest time!”

“Please. You have to. That’s where my home is. I’m ill. Please. I’ll pay you double the fare, I promise. Just take me there.”

She slumped back in the seat, and for a moment the driver stayed where he was, staring at the ashen face of his passenger in the rear-view mirror. Then he pressed down his foot and sped away from the kerb, taking a left onto Forty-second Street towards the Midtown Tunnel.

*   *   *

Jasmine placed the cup of coffee on the table in front of David and sat down opposite him. He stared at the steaming cup, then slowly looked up at her.

“You see why I couldn’t tell you when Benji was around,” she said quietly.

David let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I certainly can. Just as well that he’s staying with Sean tonight.”

“Exactly. Mind you, I reckon it’ll do him a lotta good staying with Sean again. You kinda pulled off something of a mini-miracle turnin’ that one around, didn’t you?” She took a sip of her coffee. “So what should I do about this goddamn mess?”

David shook his head. “I don’t know, Jasmine. I really don’t. I mean, I don’t honestly think that we, or should I say you, can become embroiled in something that’s not really your affair.”

“Well, it is my affair, because I don’t want to see Benji hurt.”

“Yes, I understand that, but … well, Jennifer and Alex are adults. They have to sort it out for themselves. I mean, have you any idea whether Jennifer suspects anything?”

“No. As far as I know, she thinks everything’s pretty much hunky-dory. Not that I ever talk about that kinda thing with her.”

“Well, that’s it, Jasmine. You’ve hit the nail on the head. You don’t talk to her about that kind of thing, because it’s really not your job. No, that doesn’t sound right.” He paused. “Look, you are probably the most loyal friend that she has, but this is her own very personal relationship.” He pushed his chair away from the table. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree here. It’s just that regardless of how well I knew a person, I wouldn’t have ever wanted them to give me advice on something that concerned only myself and…” He tailed off, suddenly realizing what he was saying and, feeling his face instantly flush, he cast a quick glance at Jasmine.

“And what, David?” Jasmine asked quietly, her coffee-cup half-way to her mouth.

David looked at her stony-faced, struggling desperately to try to think of a way of diverting their dialogue away from the trap that she had inadvertently sprung on him. At that precise moment, the front doorbell rang three times in quick succession, and both turned simultaneously to look at the clock on the wall.

Jasmine frowned. “Who on earth would be callin’ at a quarter to ten?” She got up from her chair and hurried off through the house. David stayed where he was, watching until she had left the room, then let out a long sigh of relief. Jesus, he’d nearly blown it that time. That was the past unconsciously weaving its way into present circumstances, and he had been caught completely unawares.

“DAVID! COME QUICKLY!”

The urgency in her tone made him jump up violently from the chair, making it fall with a clatter to the ground. He ran quickly to the hall to find Jasmine and a red-faced overweight man gently placing Jennifer down on the bottom stair and leaning her limp figure against the banister. She was ashen-faced, her pale shirt spattered with a yellow liquid that made it stick to her skin, and a nauseating smell permeated the whole area.

“What’s happened?” David asked, glancing from one to the other.

The man turned and started walking back towards the door. “The lady’s sick, sir, that’s what’s happened, and she’s made one hell of a mess inside my taxi. Jeez, I didn’t want to do the run, but she said she’d pay me double, and now I’ve gotta clean out the inside of—”

“All right,” David cut in, holding up his hand. “Let’s get one thing at a time. Just tell us what happened first.” He looked over to where Jennifer sat slumped against the banister, clutching her arms around her stomach, a look of near-delirium set in her eyes. Jasmine had sat down beside her, a frightened look on her face, her arm around Jennifer’s shoulders.

“Picked her up outside a restaurant opposite the Inter-Continental. New place, I think, so can’t remember the name. Said first that she wanted to go to the West Village, then she was as sick as a dog about three times, and then made me bring her out here. She said she’d eaten something that didn’t agree with her.”

David looked at Jasmine. “Sounds like food poisoning. You’d better get the doctor fast, Jasmine.”

“I can’t leave her sittin’ here, David. I gotta get her to bed.”

“And I gotta get back to the city,” the taxi driver interjected. “I gotta clean out the mess in the back of the car, and that’s gonna take the best part of the night.”

“How much is the fare?” David said, taking his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.

“A hundred bucks, and that only covers the fare. As I said, I gonna have to—”

Jennifer let out a groan and keeled forward, throwing up a stream of liquid yellow vomit so forcefully that it covered her skirt and three feet of the floor in front of her, making Jasmine jump to the side to avoid being hit.

David had a shiver of recognition at Jennifer’s plight, the whole scene sparking off a vision of instant déjà vu, as if a window, hitherto closed tight within his brain, had suddenly been opened.

“You must be prepared for the worst with chemotherapy, David,” Dr. Spiers had said to him. “It can have some pretty unpleasant side effects. She’ll be depressed, frightened and very sick, but you must just give her your support, David, all the support and all the love and all the gentleness that you can.”

This was all too familiar to him, and God, he’d had enough experience of it to know exactly how to act. It was like a switch being turned on in his brain, and he moved forward to take control of the situation, his actions as if on autopilot.

He handed his wallet to Jasmine. “Pay him two hundred, then get hold of the doctor as fast as you can.”

Jasmine rose to her feet. “But what about Jennifer, David? I gotta get her to bed.”

“I’ll do that.”

She looked at him warily.

“Don’t worry,” he said, putting his hand reassuringly on her arm. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” He turned to the taxi driver. “Thanks for bringing her out. We really do appreciate it.”

The taxi driver dolefully grunted his acceptance of David’s thanks and headed towards the front door followed by Jasmine, who still wore a look of worried uncertainty on her face. David skirted round the liquid on the floor and squatted down beside Jennifer.

“Listen,” he said quietly to her. “I’m going to get you upstairs now. Do you think you can manage?”

Jennifer raised her head to look at him, her eyes barely focusing on his face. He placed his hand under her armpit and gently raised her to her feet, but her legs seemed too weak to carry her weight and she slumped forward against his chest. Wrinkling his nose at the smell of her clothes, he pushed her limp body away from him, and placing one hand round her back and the other behind her knees, he lifted her up in one swift movement and carried her up the stairs as fast as he was able.

Once on the landing, he suddenly realized that he had no idea in which direction her room was. He called down to Jasmine. “Which room is it?”

“Turn right and second on the left. Are you sure you can manage, David?”

“Yeah.” He walked along the corridor and pushed open the door and, having pressed the light switch with his elbow, he carried Jennifer over to the bed and laid her upon it.

“Not down,” Jennifer said weakly, trying to get herself back into a sitting position. “Feel sick like that.”

David helped her back upright and felt an involuntary retch shudder through his body, caused by the putrid smell of vomit.

“Okay, try and stay like that for a moment. I’m just going to run you a bath, and then we’ll get you out of those clothes.” He looked over to a door that led off the bedroom. “Is that the bathroom?”

Jennifer nodded weakly, too ill to complain, and followed him with her eyes as he walked across the room to the bathroom.

Having turned on the taps, David grabbed a towel and returned to the bedroom to find Jennifer holding tight to the front of her blouse, a look of helplessness on her face. David leaned forward in front of her, resting his hands on his knees.

“Jennifer, you’re going to have to trust me. I promise you, all I’m going to do is get you into the bath. Jasmine can take over after that, but I don’t think she can manage to do the lifting work by herself.”

The kindness in David’s voice was too much for Jennifer. Her face suddenly creased up and she burst into tears, leaning slowly forward so her face rested on his arms.

“This is so … degrading,” she said between sobs.

“No, it’s not, Jennifer,” David said, putting a hand under her chin and turning her face up so that she was looking straight at him. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not that,” Jennifer said, pulling her face away from his hand and looking down into her lap. “I think that it may not be just the sick.”

David squatted down on his haunches so that he could look up into her face. “Look, I promise you, I couldn’t give a damn. I’ve seen a lot worse than anything you can show me.” He paused. “I don’t mind, Jennifer, if you don’t mind.”

Jennifer sniffed and nodded her head.

“Come on, then, let’s get those clothes off.”

Jennifer let go of the front of her skirt and put her hands to the side, and David calmly began to undo the buttons. He pulled the shirt off round her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, then, undoing the clasp and zip at the side of her skirt, he lifted her up enough to slide both that and her half-slip down over her legs.

At that point, he heard Jasmine’s voice talking to him as she came up the stairs and along the corridor.

“I called the doctor, David. Thank God he lives just down the street. I reckon he should be here any min——” She walked into the room to find Jennifer sitting on the bed in her bra and pants, with David standing in front of her. “David! What are you doin’? You shouldn’t be—”

David looked over to her and held up a hand. “Jasmine,” he said in a quietly controlled voice, “could you just go and turn off the taps? The bath will nearly be overflowing by now. I’m going to get Jennifer into the bath and then you can take over.”

Jasmine looked quickly at Jennifer, who turned enough to give her a brief nod. She went into the bathroom and turned off the water, swirling it around with her hand to check the temperature. Then, standing back from the bath, she found a position from where she could get a clear view of what was happening in the adjoining room.

“Right, now I’m just going to put the towel round you and get everything else off, okay?”

David flicked open the towel and wrapped it round Jennifer’s shoulders, then, reaching round her back, he undid her bra strap and pulled the bra free, letting it drop to the ground beside the shirt. Having inched her forward enough to slip the towel underneath her bottom, he gently rid her of her pants, and wrapping everything up into the skirt, he threw the soiled bundle over towards the door. Then, pulling the towel tight around Jennifer’s body, he hoisted her up from the bed and carried her towards the bathroom.

Jasmine stood aside as David entered, dumbfounded at what she had just witnessed. It had been a scene of such gentleness and caring that she felt instantly ashamed for ever considering that there might have been any other motivation behind David’s actions. Every movement that she had seen him make was as if it had been rehearsed many times before—from the way he knew how to shift Jennifer’s body weight with little or no effort to how he wrapped her in the towel and tucked it neatly into its own folds.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you, David, my boy,” she said to herself as she watched him lower Jennifer’s feet into the water. “Yessir, you sure done this before.”

“Is the temperature all right?” David asked.

Jennifer nodded, and he turned to Jasmine, still with an arm around her waist. “Can you manage from here?”

“Yup, I reckon so,” Jasmine said, coming forward and taking Jennifer’s weight on her arm.

“Right, well, I’ll just go downstairs and clean up that mess. Give me a call when you’re finished and I’ll come back up and get her into bed.”

Jasmine nodded slowly and watched him as he left the room. Then, turning to Jennifer, she removed the towel and gently lowered her into the bath.

*   *   *

The front doorbell rang fifteen minutes later, as David made his way down the stairs after having helped Jennifer back to her bed. He walked across the hall and opened the door, letting in a young man whose dishevelled appearance was indicative of the fact that he had obviously done more than his fair share of work that day.

“Sorry I couldn’t be quicker. I was already out on a call when you phoned. So where’s the patient?”

David pointed up the stairs. “Go right at the top and it’s the second door on the left.”

The young man took off up the stairs, then turned back to David. “Has she been sick since you called?”

“Yeah, once at least. Jasmine would know better. She’s up there with Mrs. Newman.”

The doctor nodded. “Good. Better to get it all out.” He turned and continued his way up the stairs.

David stood in the hall until he heard the bedroom door shut behind the doctor, then, thrusting his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, he walked through to the kitchen and put on the kettle. He shook his head. He needed more than a cup of coffee. A large whisky would be better. He made his way over to the refrigerator and took out a can of beer, then, walking to the table, he picked up the chair that he had knocked over and sat down, pulling off the ring of the can and taking a long drink.

A flood of emotion suddenly coursed through his mind. Never had anything that he had done over the past few months brought back such vivid memories of Rachel. No, that wasn’t right. She was constantly right there at the surface of his thoughts, but until this time it had been the happy, carefree memories of her that had occupied his mind, never the bad ones. Now he began to remember the countless occasions on which he had comforted his wife, gently stroking the soft patchy bristle on her head, being all that remained of her shining brown hair, while she, contorted in pain, bent over the basin at the side of her bed. Once she had finished, he would lay her down carefully, wiping her face clean with a wash-cloth. Then her hand would feel for his, and he would hold it, carefully so as not to hurt its thin covering of flesh, and she would open up her eyes and they would sparkle at him, exactly the same way as when they had first met, all those years ago in Oxford. And they never lost their sparkle. Never, until the day that she—

He heard the door of the kitchen open and, giving his eyes a rub and clearing his throat to rid it of the lump that had formed in his gullet, he turned to look at Jasmine. She smiled at him and walked over to the kettle.

“It’s just boiled,” he said, his voice still choked.

Jasmine looked at him and nodded and, taking a cup from the draining-board, she spooned instant coffee into it.

“How is she?” he asked.

“She’ll be fine. The doctor gave her something to make her sleep. He reckons though that she’ll have to get rid of it all herself. He doesn’t know how long it will take. It can go on for some time, he says.”

She poured water into her cup, and walking over to the table, she pulled out a chair and sat down beside him.

“You all right?”

David nodded.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, I’m all right.”

“Reckon now I can’t say much to her about what we were talking about.”

David sat back in his chair and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

For a moment, Jasmine was silent, turning her coffee-cup round in circles on the table. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Yeah?” he said, picking up his can of beer.

“Are you a doctor or a nurse or somethin’?”

David stopped and looked at her, the lip of the can pressed against his mouth. “What?”

Jasmine leaned forward on the table towards him, an intent expression on her face. “David, you knew what you were doing up there. You said as much yourself. I saw it all. You’ve done that before—many times, I’d say. How come?”

David continued to look at her.

“Are you married, David?”

He said nothing.

“Because you were about to say something about you and someone else when we were talking earlier, just before Jennifer came back. Are the two things tied up, David? Is that why you’re lookin’ like you do right now?”

He turned and stared out of the window into the darkness.

“David? Do you want to talk about it?” Jasmine asked quietly.

He looked back at her, then began in a faltering voice. “Yeah, I was married. For eighteen years, actually. That was until April.” He took a deep breath. “Rachel”—he paused and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand—“had ovarian cancer. It was not detected till too late, and she underwent treatment for about six months. I nursed her the whole time—no one else—hence what you might call my expertise in the job. But she died in April.” He turned and looked out the window once more. “And that’s it, really. Now you know the whole story of David Corstorphine.”

Jasmine sat with her hands clasped over her mouth. “Oh, Lordy, I didn’t know, David. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

David shook his head. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was going to tell you sometime, but didn’t really feel I was quite ready yet. Hadn’t quite exorcized the ghosts of the past. That’s really why I took this job—so that I could get away from it all. I didn’t want to think, let alone talk, about it.”

“And here’s me puttin’ my big foot in it. Oh, I feel awful. I didn’t mean to get that out of you.”

He smiled at her. “You know, Jasmine, you’ve been more help to me than anyone else. That’s the truth. Both you and Benji. You’ve taken me at face value. You haven’t once asked me about where I come from or what I’ve done. I really mean that, Jasmine, you couldn’t have done more good for me. And as for Benji, well, just being with him has helped me realize just how much I’ve missed my own children.”

Jasmine let her hands fall with a thump to the table. She sat with her mouth wide open. “Children? You have children?” she asked incredulously.

David nodded. “Three. Sophie, Charlie and Harriet.”

“But where are they?”

“At school.”

“Yeah, I guessed that, but who’s looking after them at nights?”

“They’re at a boarding-school.”

“At a boarding-school? You mean they live in?”

David nodded.

“Do you mean to say that their mother died last April, and you have them at a boarding-school?” Jasmine exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief and slowly rising from her chair.

“Yes, but—”

“That is…” She paused, trying to think of the right word. “… unforgivable, David! How could you do that? I mean, how old is the youngest?”

“Nine.”

“Nine? But that’s younger than Benji, David! Nine?”

“Listen, Jasmine, it may be difficult for you to understand this, but the children were all away at school before their mother was ill, and when the time came to choose whether to continue with their present school or find somewhere nearer home, it was the children themselves who chose to go back. You see, they have all their friends there; they’re happy and secure; and for me, that is absolute. Even though I wanted them nearer home, I couldn’t go against their wishes, because that would have been both cruel and self-indulgent.”

Jasmine stood eyeing him, her arms folded and her head on a tilt.

“That’s as may be, but what I can’t understand is how you’ve felt able to … gallivant around having fun with Benji when your own children are … locked up in some boarding-school.”

The remark hit a nerve, a painful one. He jumped up from his chair, banging his fist down on the table.

“That is neither fair nor true, Jasmine! I love my children, more than you can ever imagine! I have been in constant touch with them since I’ve been over here, and they with me. And if it’s any of your business, I’m going back to Scotland at the beginning of next month, and we’re all going off on holiday together. Anyway, I was only meant to be here for a couple of days, but then I realized that I couldn’t go back, because…”

He slumped back down in his chair, his anger having worked its way deep into his mind to batter at the defences that had been hitherto holding so strong against his grief and sorrow.

“… because I found that I just couldn’t cope without my wife.”

Fighting hard to control his emotions, he rubbed at his forehead with his fingertips, pressing them in hard to cause enough pain to act as a distraction. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

He hadn’t heard her walk round the table to stand beside him, but suddenly felt her hand resting on his shoulder.

“It’s not you who should apologize. It’s me. I’m too darned stupid to understand all that’s gone on in your life. It’s not for me to pass judgement on what you do and don’t do. You know and understand your children much better than me, and I know that you love them better than I could ever imagine. I’m sorry. I should never have opened my big mouth.”

David sat up and took a deep breath. “No, your reaction was quite justifiable. It does sound pretty harsh when you hear it cold like that. Just shows up all too clearly our difference in culture. What is it you Americans say about us Brits? Keeping the animals at home and sending the children off to kennels?” He let out a short laugh. “I can’t make excuses for it, Jasmine, but I think you know me well enough when I say that it was the best thing for them under the circumstances.”

She sighed and raised her eyebrows, then sat down heavily on her chair again. “Yeah, I guess so.” She paused. “It’s just a pity we won’t get to meet them. How old are they?”

“Sophie’s coming up to sixteen, Charlie’s twelve, and Harriet—well, you know how old she is.”

Jasmine nodded slowly. “Charlie’s twelve. How about that? Pity we couldn’t get him and Benji together.”

“Yeah, they’d hit it off pretty well, too. Both born enthusiasts. Problem is Charlie courts disaster wherever he goes. That’s why I over-reacted so, the time that I found Benji lying at the bottom of the pool. It was really Charlie I saw there, you know.”

“For heaven’s sakes, yes. God, you must have been scared some.”

David gave a brief shake of his head. “You can say that again!”

She smiled. “So where are you taking them on their vacation?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll fix it up when I get back.”

She looked at him, her eyes bright. “I have an idea! Why don’t you bring them out here?”

David gaped at her. “What?”

“Bring them out here to the States, to Leesport! I mean, why take them anywhere else? You know the place. You now have us and all your other friends over here. There’s the sun and the sea, and the pool and the tennis here. Go on, David, it would be so much fun for them.”

He smiled at her and shook his head. “No, Jasmine, I think not.”

“Why not? Give me one good reason why not?”

“Because…”

“I know what you’re going to say. Because no one knows about you and what’s happened to you all, and you want to be able to guard your privacy. Is that it?”

“Well, in a word, yes.”

“Well, in that case, bang goes your argument, because I know. So what other excuse do you have?”

David shrugged and scratched at his head. “I don’t know, Jasmine. Maybe it would be better if I just finished off out here and went back to start again.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” she said, her tone so sharp that it made David start back in his chair. She picked up a pencil that happened to be lying on the table and began to roll it over and over in her fingers. “Listen, David, I’m goin’ to tell you something. This house has never been filled with so much happiness and laughter than since you been around. We really want to keep you here as long as we possibly can.” She paused. “And I can tell you, that don’t just go for me and Benji.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Meaning?”

“Meanin’ that I was with Jennifer just after the doctor left. I gave her the sleeping-pill, but she kept tryin’ to sit up. She was pretty delirious, but she kept asking me, ‘Where is he? Where is he?’ over and over again. I said that I didn’t rightly know, thinking that she meant Alex, but then she shook her head. ‘Where’s David?’ she asked. I said that it was all right, you were downstairs, and with that, she kinda slid back against her pillow and went to sleep—just like that—with a big smile spread across her face.” She let the pencil fall to the table. “The pill sure as hell couldn’t have worked that fast!””

David sat in silence, staring at her.

“David, you’re right on two counts. First, we couldn’t tell Jennifer about Alex. It’s not our business. The other thing is, yeah, I am her best friend. I know her like a kid sister. Goddamn it, I treat her like a kid sister! And I sure as hell could not cope myself with this thing with Alex if it came out, and neither could she, especially not right now when she’s sick. Whether you like it or not, you have gotten under all our skins. You’ve become our security, our—what was it Jennifer called you?—yeah, our Superman! You make things happen that ain’t ever happened before in this household. And if you went right now, and Alex then decided to head off, I think the whole ship would sink.”

David shook his head slowly. “I can’t be around for ever, Jasmine.”

“I’m not asking you to be around for ever. I realize that you have a life over in Scotland with the children an’ everythin’. But if you bring the kids over here, it would at least keep you here too another week or two, and maybe by then, things might have gotten sorted out between her and Alex—or maybe not.” She stretched out and put her hand on his. “Please, David, think about it, and think of all the fun the kids would have together.”

He smiled at her. “My house isn’t very big.”

Jasmine grinned, realizing that the discussion was turning in her favour. “It doesn’t matter! Kids love sleeping rough! Anyways, they could always come and stay here. Jennifer wouldn’t—”

“No!” David cut in.

“Why on earth not?”

“Because I want no one else to know about my past, that’s why.”

“For what reason?”

“Because it would, well, just change everything. It would mean … that people knew about me … and that’s what I couldn’t deal with back in Scotland. I am quite happy with this identity of simply being David-the-gardener. I don’t want to be known as David-whose-wife-has-just-died. Am I making any sense to you?”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows.

“I know it sounds quite underhanded, Jasmine, but what difference would it really make? I promise you I will tell Jennifer when the kids arrive, and then everyone else in my own time.” He smiled at her. “As it happens, I was going to tell you first. Only you found out earlier than I had planned.”

Jasmine slowly nodded. “So when d’you think the kids could come?”

“In about two weeks.”

She looked at David, the excitement returning to her eyes. “Gee, that’s wonderful! I could give you a hand to get some beds put up in your house. Hey, I can’t wait to meet them! And to think of all the fun we’ll have with Benji and with Dodie an’ all.” She suddenly sat bolt-upright. “Speakin’ of which, where is she?”

Slapping his forehead in forgetfulness, David jumped up from his chair and looked around the kitchen, his sudden movement disturbing the dog, who had been lying, hidden from sight, deep within one of the beanbags next to the television. She stretched her woolly head up towards the ceiling and let out a loud yawn.

“Never far away,” he laughed. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans and arched his back, suddenly feeling very tired. “I think I’ll go home now, Jasmine.” He walked round behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Thanks for the talk, and for the great idea—and also for being a friend. I really appreciate it, you know.”

Jasmine put her own hand up to her shoulder and patted the top of his. “Goes for both of us, David, I can tell you.”

He gave Dodie a whistle, and Jasmine turned in her chair to watch him as he walked across the kitchen to the back door. “Be here usual time tomorrow?”

“Of course,” David replied, and with a fleeting wave, he let himself and Dodie out into the warmth of the night.