Paul watched as Jade continued scratching. In the process, she uncovered more of the needle’s art, revealing the tattoo to be a crescent moon. There, too, were stars.
This wasn’t possible. He had to be hallucinating. Seeing stars. Something of his fixation with Serendipity was affecting his sight. Jade Jellicoe could not possibly have a tattoo on her ankle. What a stupid idea.
He tore his gaze away and looked out the window. But his eyes had a will of their own and returned to her ankle. The tattoo really was there, on exactly the same ankle where Serendipity bore hers, on exactly the same spot.
No, this was crazy. His scalp started to prickle, his brain feeling as though it were being fried. He had to be wrong. But then his memory threw up a picture — that of Serendipity’s bike helmet. On the front was the sign of Gemini. The twins.
Paul’s hands clutched the curved metal of the armrests. He stopped breathing. So, this was what it felt like to be turned to stone. If he believed the evidence of his eyes, which he was forced to do, this woman who was so calmly and coldly terminating him, was also one and the same as the passionate lover of his dreams, the woman he’d been falling for and had even contemplated spending the rest of his life with. Serendipity.
His brain, his body — all of him — felt as if they were going to explode.
“Of course, we’ll provide you with an adequate, generous, severance package.”
“That’s fine. Very good,” he heard himself answer. His voice sounded clipped but otherwise almost normal as he interrupted her flow of words.
Serendipity had left him standing in the dust. Now she was doing the same thing again, only in a different fashion.
A hard knot formed in his chest, cold and vengeful, demanding he inflict some sort of wound in return for the blow he’d just received.
He stood up and took a couple of paces. Half turning away from her, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “In any case, I need a change. City life is not for me. Neither is all this — ” he waved one hand to encompass the agency — “the pressure, the long hours, the politics. Being let go will give me the chance to pursue another, completely different direction.” He laughed without humor. “I thought I was falling in love. I was even thinking of marriage. Very recently, these last two weekends in fact, I met the woman of my dreams. But I seem to have mislaid her.” He turned and raised an eyebrow, looking directly at Jade. “Rather careless of me, wouldn’t you say?”
She gaped at him.
He saw her turn pale and slowly stand up. But she didn’t move toward him.
“Please, don’t tell.”
“What, that you’re a two-faced woman who uses people?”
“No. About Serendipity.”
Paul was quiet a moment. “I won’t betray you. Whatever your reasons for this charade.”
With that, an evil, swamping tide of rage rose in him. Barely nodding in Jade’s direction, somehow or other he got himself out of there. He was sure of that, because he heard the door slam behind him. Next thing he knew he was outside the building, striding off down the road. The direction didn’t matter. All he needed was to get away.
• • •
He’d recognized her! Totally stunned, Jade stared at the blank rectangle of the closed door. That was it. Paul was out of her life. Their fling was over. There’d be no problem of unexpected encounters at work where he might catch her off her guard, no question of behaving unprofessionally when he was around.
Because he wouldn’t be.
She slumped back down on her chair and cradled her head in her hands. She’d never intended to hurt him like this, never wanted him to find out like this, especially on the same day she cut him off from his livelihood … . And what about those last phrases he had tossed off so casually? Could he really have meant them? Or was that some strange way to save face, to wound her in retaliation? Except he wasn’t that kind of person. At least, he hadn’t been, not in his dealings with Serendipity.
Oh God. She couldn’t believe he’d started to love her, had even been considering marriage. After two weekends together? In such a short time, it was hardly possible he knew her well enough — except in the biblical sense. Yet … wasn’t her heart telling her similar about him? That she was falling in love? Otherwise, why this devastation over what had just happened, over the knowledge she’d never see him again? Never, not since she’d played weddings when she was little, had she ever imagined herself getting married. But now, imagining life with Paul by her side … . No, she mustn’t think like that. Better to pretend she’d never heard those words. Wipe them from her memory.
She felt completely drained, hollowed out. She couldn’t think about tomorrow, or next week, or next year, because now her life stretched empty before her. She hadn’t intended to let Paul touch her heart, but quite unknowingly, carelessly, she’d handed it to him. At the same time, she’d been instrumental in crushing their blossoming love underfoot.
A pain as sharp as an icicle struck through her heart.
• • •
For the next hour, she kept her office door closed. Her phone went unanswered. Finally, sniffling, she looked up at the clock. Already four P.M. Thank goodness. Although she longed to escape straightaway, she’d hide in her office for another hour. Even the fact that she wouldn’t stay late today was bound to cause comment.
Turning to her computer, she went back to her numbers. Usually she found solace in their perfect predictability, but now they were powerless to stop the tears from streaming, unbidden, down her cheeks. She reached for a tissue, tugged it out of the cardboard box with a rasp, and dabbed below her eyes to do as little damage to her appearance as possible.
Her phone rang. She took a couple of seconds to sit up, put her shoulders back and breathe, before picking up the receiver.
“Jade, hi! I’m so glad I caught you. It’s Betty.”
Betty. The real estate agent she’d contacted. A note of excitement lit the Realtor’s voice. “I tried you yesterday, but I guess you were out of town.”
“Sorry, Betty. I got back late and didn’t pick up my messages.”
“The thing is, there’s a house I want you to take a look at.”
“Oh?” Jade forced herself to switch focus.
“I’m pretty sure you’d be interested in this property … . Listen, is there any chance you could come with me right now to view it? My sense is this could be the one, and we need to move fast.”
Jade didn’t see any reason to refuse. No use imagining she’d accomplish anything much in the way of work for the rest of the afternoon.
“Okay.”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up in front of the agency. Say in fifteen?”
With that agreed, Jade took her emergency kit out of her desk drawer, flipped open the little mirror, and looked at herself.
Not great. She didn’t want to go to the washroom and risk putting her anguish, her red, puffy eyes, on display. Cosmetics could achieve a lot, but anyone really looking at her would see she’d been crying.
The lipstick slid over her lips, those lips that would never again kiss Paul. No, Jade, stop thinking like that. A fresh coat of mascara would help. She sniffed and blinked at the mirror as she stroked the wand over her eyelashes. Then she dabbed at her face with the small puff from the miniature powder compact. Small, everyday actions, but they brought a measure of comfort for all that.
How fortunate the phone call had come at just that moment. No more wallowing. She’d try not to dwell on what had happened, but shut it away and concentrate on finding herself the long-promised and hard-worked-for home instead.
• • •
Thirteen minutes later, Jade jammed her sunglasses on her nose and headed out. She felt calmer, more like herself. She’d put the whole unfortunate incident with Paul behind her and carry on as if they’d never connected. Her heart ached, refusing to agree with her head, but she ignored it.
The receptionist had already left and the foyer was dim. With sunglasses masking Jade’s eyes, the way was very dark.
She hadn’t reached more than halfway across the lobby when her thigh connected with the sharp corner of the receptionist’s desk.
“Ouch!”
She recoiled, rubbing the hurting spot and briefly wishing for Marigold’s magic arnica ointment to take away the pain and prevent an unsightly bruise. But Jade would never think such a thing. Maybe all these bumps were shaking her away, leaving Serendipity in her stead.
Off-balance, hopping sideways, she collided with a colleague. Who was it?
Manly hands grabbed her by the shoulders, steadying her.
“Watch out, Jade. A little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”
Steve. The snide comment spoke volumes. Clearly she wasn’t his favorite person at the moment. But then, apart from Suzy, she probably wasn’t anybody’s favorite person here at the agency.
She made a rush for the entrance, aiming at the front door. Even more thrown by the encounter with Steve, desperate to get out of there, she misjudged her direction and hit the wooden hat stand, which teetered, swayed, and began to topple. She made a grab to stop it, but the nasty thing had other plans. Instead, bentwood hooks and all, it went crashing down. With a bang and a swoosh, it landed on the floor, across her path. Hats and caps scattered near her toes. She stumbled over what she recognized to be Paul’s denim jacket. Jade could feel hysteria, the pressure of emotion, the tears ready to burst forth. Surely she’d humiliated herself enough for one day?
“It’s okay.” Suzy’s low voice came from nearby.
Jade felt a steadying touch on her arm.
Suzy spoke louder. “I know you’re in a hurry to get to that dentist appointment, Jade. You go and I’ll pick all this up.”
Saved by Suzy. Again. Tomorrow she’d buy a bunch of flowers for her friend.
Outside, the bright, mid-afternoon sunshine took care of her vision problem but didn’t do a whole lot for her despair and heartbreak. Four unsteady steps across the sidewalk and Jade opened the door to Betty’s silver Mercedes. She sank gratefully into the gray leather seat, feeling as if she were the hat stand, and someone had pushed her over and trampled on her. Except the someone was herself.
Betty glanced briefly across at her and said, “Hi.” She went back to riffling through a sheaf of papers.
Jade took the opportunity to remove her sunglasses. Reaching up, she lowered the sun visor and considered her reflection in the small mirror. It was not surprising she felt out of kilter. Somewhere along the way, her wig had been knocked askew. Surreptitiously, she straightened it.
Betty didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. As always when she collected Jade to show her houses, which was usually once or twice a month, the realtor was dressed as if on her way to the annual business-awards function. Today she had on a beige linen suit that beautifully complemented her white hair, which she wore in a feathered cut. Diamond rings glittered as she handed Jade photocopied pages showing the photograph of the front of the house and providing details of price, taxes, accommodation measurements, how the place was heated (old-fashioned radiators), air-conditioning (none) and giving the address.
While Betty drove through small shady streets, Jade examined the pages carefully, profoundly thankful to have something to divert her thoughts and emotions.
The neighborhood had a reputation for being quiet, although the area was close to the downtown core. Jade thought it might suit her very well.
They soon drew up in front of a small bungalow that reminded her of a gingerbread house, as in Hansel and Gretel. A bay window took up nearly half of the façade.
“Before we go in,” Betty began, “you need to prepare yourself. This old chap’s been living here for the past thirty years and hasn’t done much in the way of maintenance, although the structure, I’m pretty sure, is sound. So, you’re looking at some renovation and complete redecorating.” She peered at Jade over the top of her glasses. “You won’t mind that, will you?”
Jade shook her head.
Betty went on. “You’ll need a new kitchen and bathroom plus a complete paint job, possibly rewiring … . And of course, the good news is, because of the state the house is in, the price is not too bad. You’re unlikely to get anything in this area for less than another fifty thousand dollars.”
Inside, the rooms appeared dark and tired. Worse, there was an unpleasant, stale smell. It would be easy to be put off, but Jade could see the potential. Despite all the anguish she’d experienced earlier, a bubble of optimism began to bob around inside her chest.
She didn’t say much as Betty went through the rigmarole of conducting her through the main floor and the basement and pointing out features she could see for herself. Rather, she concentrated on getting a feel for the place, trying to imagine herself here, secure in her own small kingdom.
They explored the small yard at the back. The property abutted some kind of car park, but this was screened off by the hedge and the medium-sized spruce tree that stood in a back corner. There was enough space for a patch of lawn, a paved area she could see would easily accommodate a barbecue. Around the edge, she could make a flowerbed or two.
This was her big chance. Here she would have stability, security, predictability: four strong brick walls to shelter her. She could live forever in bourgeois comfort, and all her dreams could come true. All her waking ones, at any rate.
Betty waited expectantly for a few moments. At last she said, “Well?”
Jade stood in the middle of the lawn. Already she could imagine the small extension she could build to make an extra room at the back of the house and a bit of a deck she’d maybe create where she could sit outside on summer evenings such as this. She and Paul — No, Jade, that’s over. Forget it.
“Betty, can we go through the house again?”
“Of course.”
The second wander through the rooms confirmed her first impressions.
“You were right,” she told the other woman. “This could suit me fine.”
“Great.” Betty’s tone switched to businesslike instead of hyper-enthusiastic. “If you want to put in an offer straightaway, which I strongly advise you to do, we can go back to my office and prepare the paperwork.”
On the ride to the real estate office, Jade tried to assess the situation as realistically as possible. One thing worried her. Buying a house was a serious business and she was by no means in a normal state of mind. The bank had preapproved her mortgage, but nevertheless, she didn’t want to get into something she’d later regret. On the other hand, that little house was indeed exactly the sort of dwelling she’d been hoping for, longing for, saving for, planning for. No, she couldn’t, mustn’t pass up the opportunity.
“Fine. Let’s do it.”
• • •
“What’s our strategy going to be?” Jade asked Betty once they’d settled themselves in her office and been provided with coffee.
“We’ll put in a reasonable offer, not quite the asking price but not too much lower, as I don’t think that would be wise. So, we tempt him to accept, but put a twenty-four-hour reply deadline on it to add a bit of pressure.”
“What’s happening to the owner? Is he moving to a retirement community or something?”
“He’s going to live with his daughter. I believe he had a mild stroke recently, so he’s not that well. My sense is the family’s anxious to get moving on this whole deal.”
Betty went through the paperwork with Jade. Jade began signing, but all at once, gripped by a sense of irrevocability, that by doing so she’d shut the door on other important possibilities, she stopped.
“No. I’m sorry.” She put down the pen. “This isn’t right.”
“There’s a mistake?” Betty looked bewildered.
“It’s not that. The truth is, I’m not in a suitable state of mind to commit myself immediately.”
“You don’t want to put in an offer? Jade, surely you don’t want to miss this opportunity?”
Jade bit her lip, fighting back the tears. “I’ve … I’ve had an upsetting day today.” She sniffed. “To take this step — Well, I don’t know if I can. What if I have second thoughts?”
“Hmm. Tell you what. Why don’t we put a longer deadline on your offer? Then, if you find you change your mind, you can withdraw it.”
Jade thought about that. “It’s true it’s the kind of place I’ve been looking for.”
Betty didn’t say anything, but Jade knew she must be remembering all the places they’d viewed together.
She took a breath, picked up the pen again, intending to sign. But all her instincts screamed “wait.” She put the pen down. If the place was meant to be hers, then there was no need to be pressured into making an immediate offer. Either way, she needed time to be sure.
“No. I’m sorry, Betty. I really appreciate your efforts, but I can’t do this right now.”
For a second, Jade saw the disappointment behind Betty’s professional mask. Then her usual expression slid back into place. Jade wondered if that was how she herself sometimes appeared to others.
Betty gathered up the papers. “It’s up to you, of course,” she said in a neutral voice. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll drive you back to the agency.”
Jade imagined going back in there after her less-than-dignified exit. She’d have to walk through the large open-plan office to reach her sanctuary. Any colleagues working overtime would look up from their work … .
She ran a hand over her wig, checking it was properly in place. “I’d rather you took me home, if it’s okay with you.”
Sadly, going home wasn’t a whole lot better than going back to work. Her basement apartment felt even more forlorn than usual, as if no one with any soul lived there. At least at the agency there were people about and not this empty vacuum. If or when that little house belonged to her, after she’d fixed it up and moved in, she’d get a cat.
A live creature to welcome her. That might take the sting out of living alone. Without Paul.