The House on Sunset Lake (20 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

He left the wedding and stepped out on to the deserted street. As he raised his hand for a cab, there was a roll of thunder like a portent, fat droplets stippling the sidewalk. He waved both arms like a man drowning, but car after car hissed past.

He thought about Sarah’s words. Settling, not settling down: that was what Jennifer had done with Connor. He’d been a coward back then, leaving Jennifer to her grief and a consolation relationship with Connor. As for Jennifer herself, she’d said she’d have made the same choice, picked Connor if Jim had come back for her, but what if he’d made her braver; made her face her fears and guilt and demons? Made her choose love not death?

Finally a taxi stopped. He jumped in and directed it to New York’s famous museum. The rain was sheeting down as it stopped outside the wide expanse of marble steps. Jim lifted his jacket over his head to protect himself from the weather.

Security was on the door.

‘Shit,’ he muttered, wondering how difficult it would be to get in. A couple in cocktail attire were running down the wet steps. The woman slipped and Jim caught hold of her hand.

‘Thank you.’ She squinted through the rain.

‘I need to get in there. I need to tell someone how much I love them. I don’t suppose you still have your invitation on you?’ he grinned, his hair sticking to his forehead like glue.

Her companion put his hand into the pocket of his dinner jacket and pulled out a stiff white piece of card.

‘Good luck, pal,’ he laughed, and they ran off to get a taxi.

Jim rubbed the top of his head to shake off the excess moisture. People were already leaving, huddling under umbrellas as he ran up the steps, waving his invitation at a pair of disinterested security guards.

Pushing against the tide of people, he threaded his way into the high marble hall.
Please don’t let her have left.
He scanned the crowd, looking for her but seeing only dowdy women and men in dark suits.

Then his heart skipped a beat as he spotted her across the room. Her dress was bronze, shimmering. She was smiling as someone in a dinner jacket talked animatedly to her, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

This wasn’t Jennifer, he realised; it never had been. He could vividly remember her running barefoot by the creek. The smear of dirt on her cheek, the scratches along her ankles from brambles. Had it not been for her mother’s death, Jim felt sure that she wouldn’t have ended up leading a life like this.

She was as tall as many of the men in the room, and as her eyes drifted away from her acquaintance, they locked with Jim’s across the heads of the thinning crowd. He nervously flattened his wet hair and started weaving through the guests to get to her.

‘Jim. What are you doing here?’

His heart was racing, but he knew he had to go through with this.

‘I’m here to tell you something. Something I should have told you twenty years ago.’

The warmth faded from her smile.

‘What is it?’

‘I’m in love with you, Jen,’ he said simply.

A dialogue had gone on over and over in his head in the cab on the way here, but now that he was standing in front of her, it was quite simple, and with those first ice-breaking words he felt braver and bolder than ever.

‘I’ve loved you for twenty years and I’ve been on my own ever since, because no one can ever match up to you.’

Her face crumpled. ‘But you’re not alone, Jim. What about Sarah?’

‘Sarah knows,’ he replied, shaking his head. ‘Sarah was the one who told me to come and finally be honest about how I feel.’

Jennifer looked at him sceptically.

‘Look, we’re not together any more. We can’t be. I only asked you to set me up with someone as a way to keep in touch with you. And that’s the problem. Sarah is a great girl, but she’s not you.’

She closed her eyes, breathed in through her nose.

‘Jim, I’m married. You know that.’

He knew his next words were a risk.

‘He doesn’t deserve you, Jen . . .’

‘That’s not for you to decide,’ she said, blinking hard.

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No.’

As she spoke, her eyes flickered fearfully to the side, and Jim didn’t need to turn to know that Connor was behind him. He watched the other man take in the scene.

‘What’s going on here? Jim, I know you want to speak to me about RedReef, but really, this isn’t the time or the place.’

Jim knew there was no turning back now.

‘Tell Jennifer where you were on Tuesday, Connor.’

Connor blanched, eyes flicking to his wife.

‘I was in meetings all day.’

‘Out of town?’

‘Yes, in Southampton if you must know. A client of mine has a place out there.’ There was a quaver of anxiety in his voice. ‘Look, what’s going on?’

Jim glared at him. ‘I thought you’d have more balls than that.’

He saw Connor’s back stiffen, but he ignored it and turned to Jennifer.

‘When he finally tells you where he was, I think you’ll understand what I’m saying. Why you deserve better than him.’

Jennifer looked at Connor. ‘What’s he talking about? Tell me.’

Connor stepped forward and put a possessive hand on his wife’s shoulder.

‘We’ll talk later. Right now, I think Jimmy was just leaving.’

Jim’s eyes locked with Jennifer’s once more.

‘Am I, Jen?’

He stretched out a hand towards her. This was the moment, the moment when it would all change or come crashing down. Time seemed to stop, Jennifer’s gaze locked on his fingers . . .

‘Jennifer.’

Connor’s voice was deep, authoritative. Jim had the sense that it was the tone he used when she wasn’t doing as she was told, when she was threatening to step out of line.

‘Jen?’

Her eyes flickered to his, then down to the floor, and Jim knew it was over. He had been so sure, so convinced, but no. She had made her choice. And it wasn’t him. Again.

‘Fine,’ he said quietly, turning and heading for the door. ‘I’ve got the message.’

Somewhere in the distance he could hear the band playing an instrumental version of ‘Come Fly With Me’. He yanked his top button open, pulled his tie loose and stepped out into the night, feeling the cold through his soaked jacket for the first time. It didn’t matter; the rain was still coming down anyway. He tipped his head back, feeling the drops on his face.

He walked slowly down the steps, moving into a new life, one without her. It was almost as if the universe was conspiring to taunt him. He saw a bus go past advertising the latest kids’ movie, watched a couple stepping into a taxi, laughing. He must move forward. Make these simple images part of his life too. Not with Jennifer or with Sarah, but perhaps there was someone else out there who could one day make him happy.

‘Taxi, sir?’

Jim looked round. A uniformed attendant was standing at the kerb, sheltered under an umbrella.

‘Sure, why not?’

The man whistled, and two yellow cabs materialised from the traffic.

Now
the taxis are stopping, thought Jim.

‘Wait!’

Her voice was muffled by the hiss of the rain and the traffic.

‘Jim, wait.’

He turned around and saw her, the bronze of her dress shining at the top of the steps.

They stood motionless for a moment, then Jennifer took a tentative step forward. Shoulders still hunched, he walked towards her.

‘We need to talk,’ she said.

‘Just the weather for it.’

‘I knew who Connor was with on Tuesday. Well, I guessed. Some interior designer who’s been working on the condo project. I just confronted him. He didn’t deny it.’

‘You knew he was having an affair?’

She shook her head. ‘I’d found a few texts, some emails, but I never said anything because I knew that I was in the wrong too.’

‘Why were you in the wrong?’ he asked, his heart beating fast.

‘Because of you, Jim.’

Jim felt his heart might break. Did she mean it?

‘You never . . .’ He faltered. ‘You didn’t say anything.’

‘Every time we were together, I hoped that the day, the night would end another way. I was kidding myself, of course – I mean, you’d even asked me to set you up with someone – but every time we met, or spoke or texted, I was hoping you’d give me a sign that we could go back. Go back to what we were.’

He couldn’t believe what she was saying.

‘
You
wanted something to happen?’

‘I wanted more than being just your friend. I always have. When you came back to the house, when we watched the tapes together and I remembered how happy we were, I wanted to say something, do something, but—’

‘Will you just shut up and let me kiss you?’ he interrupted. He reached up, touching her cheek, pushing her wet hair from her face, then leaned in and kissed her. Soft, sensual, perfect. He grabbed her hand.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, leading her down the wet steps.

The official with the umbrella was watching them. With the hint of a smile, he blew his whistle and called them a cab.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jim woke and felt his eyes flutter open with a sense of contentment. He turned and saw Jennifer’s back – pale, lightly freckled – and gave a soft happy snort as he tried to remember every detail of the night before.

‘You awake?’ he asked softly.

‘Finally, I’m in Jim Johnson’s bed,’ she said, shifting position so that she faced him.

‘That’s what all the girls say.’

He propped himself on one elbow to look at her. The daylight creeping through the window spotlit her face, and he could see the faint lines around her eyes and the twin creases behind her brows. Jennifer Wyatt wasn’t a young woman any more – to an outsider, Sarah Huxley and her pretty, fresh-faced friends were more obviously attractive – but Jim touched her cheek and thought she had never looked more lovely.

‘What a night,’ she said, lying back and looking at the ceiling. ‘But I should probably phone Sarah.’

Jim shook his head, not wanting to spoil the moment. He hoped she wouldn’t mention Connor. She didn’t.

‘So are we going to stay in bed all day and make up for lost time, or does duty call for Omari’s head honcho?’

‘I’d like nothing better,’ said Jim, propping himself up with a pillow and glancing at his diver’s watch, ‘but I’ve got to be on a flight in – bloody hell, in four hours.’

‘Plenty of time. Where are you going?’

‘Baruda. Caribbean.’

He didn’t want to give out any more details than that. Sarah might have understood the lengths he had to go to to sort out RedReef, but he suspected Jennifer would go into a blind panic at the thought of him meeting Marshall Roberts.

‘And I should probably go and see Connor,’ she said, her voice turning more serious. ‘It’s time I finally got this sorted.’

Jim didn’t say anything. He’d done and said enough. Of course he was happy that Jennifer was here in his bed, but there was no satisfaction in being the catalyst for the end of her marriage, no matter how much he disliked Connor. He tried to tell himself that he had done the right thing in finally following his heart and telling Jennifer how he felt. Tried to make himself feel better with the thought that there were no kids involved, that Sarah had finished with him, and that Connor was cheating on Jennifer anyway. But still, he’d pulled the rug out from someone else’s life, and however much they deserved it, he knew it was a crappy thing to do.

‘You know, Connor and I should have divorced years ago. I’ve always consoled myself with the thought that he loved me. But I soon saw that I was just another possession, like a boat or a plane, or a fancy Swiss watch, and our marriage was just another tick-box on the list of his life’s conquests. A suitable girl that fitted into his life. But, a bit like the boat and the plane and the watch, you get tired of the shiny things. They lose their appeal and so you trade up; you get the slicker, smarter model. You can’t do that with a marriage, though. Not unless you want to lose fifty per cent of everything you’ve worked for. So you do it quietly. Not so quietly that I didn’t find out. I knew about the lingerie model, the leggy blonde realtor and the journalist from Bloomberg, and each time he bought me a diamond and said it wouldn’t happen again. Each time I believed him, and when he did have another affair, I thought deep down that I deserved it.’

‘You didn’t deserve anything like that, Jen.’

‘When are you back from the Caribbean?’ she said, taking his hand.

‘It’s just a quick trip. I’m back tomorrow. And then it’s Johnson family party time. My father’s CBE celebration, his aren’t-you-all-pleased-to-see-me shindig. It’s at some swanky private members’ club. Old-school variety. Three-line whip,’ he grinned. ‘You should come. There’ll be a free copy of his new book at least.’

‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘I think we should give ourselves a little breathing space to sort things out. It’s over between me and Connor, in fact I’m going to check into a hotel this afternoon. But he’s still my husband.’

‘A hotel? You can stay here.’

‘Breathing space. Just for a little while,’ she grinned.

‘OK. Let’s keep a respectable distance. For now, anyway.’ He leaned in to kiss her. ‘Although I’m not sure how long is respectable these days,’ he said, moving his lips down to her shoulder. ‘A day, a week . . .’

Jennifer gave a soft, sexy laugh. ‘I’m not sure how long I can resist you,’ she said, wrapping her arms around him.

Jim rolled her over so that she was on her stomach. He gently brushed her hair off her neck and kissed the top of her spine, moving slowly down.

‘Look at this,’ he said, stroking the dark groove where her spine disappeared between the twin mounds of her buttocks. ‘You have a mole. A diamond-shaped mole.’ He wondered whether Connor had noticed the landmarks of her body.

‘Have I?’ she smiled, turning over.

He kissed her belly, her breasts, lingering over one nipple, then the other, sucking, tasting her, sweet and delicious. She moaned and parted her legs and they made love again, more slowly than the night before.

‘I can’t believe I have to walk the streets of New York in this dress,’ she smiled after they had showered. ‘You know I’ve even left my coat at the Met.’

‘Borrow something of mine,’ he offered.

‘You’re a six-foot guy.’

‘Not so much taller than you.’

He padded to the wardrobe, sifting through his rack of clothes. He glanced back at her. She had folded her arms across her naked body and was smiling at him playfully.

‘This should be interesting,’ she laughed.

He took a pair of black trousers from his favourite suit and handed them to her.

‘Slimmest cut I’ve got,’ he said, reaching for a belt and T-shirt. ‘So much so that I can’t quite get into them . . .’

He watched her dress, gathering the trousers around her waist with the belt.

‘So now I look like a crazy person rather than a hooker,’ she said, studying her reflection in the full-length mirror.

‘Oi, they’re Saint Laurent.’

Once Jim was dressed too, he packed a bag and got his passport.

‘Right then.’

‘I thought you were going to say righty-ho,’ she teased him.

‘And of course in the movie of our lives I’d be played by Hugh Grant . . . So when am I going to see you again?’ he asked, threading his arms around the back of her neck.

‘I’ll call you,’ she said, and this time he believed her.