An Ocean Apart (54 page)

Having been allowed to leave their shopping bags at the restaurant, they took a taxi to Central Park. There the conversation continued as they walked side by side along the path by the lake, Sophie's arm linked through Jennifer's, only stepping away from each other to allow for the occasional erratic Rollerblader or single-minded jogger to pass unhindered. The more they talked, the more admiration and love Jennifer felt for this young girl at her side, realizing that she herself had never experienced such devastating loss and emotional upheaval in her own life.

When they eventually left the park, Jennifer decided that there was not enough time to go back to the apartment before the show. Consequently, they took a taxi straight to Broadway, stopping off to collect their bags on the way. Then, having ensconced themselves in a welcoming pub called the White Lion, they sat drinking Coke and eating chips, while studying the faces of the people who entered and, giggling uncontrollably, comparing their looks with well-known people.

They walked the remaining distance to the Shubert Theatre, arriving ten minutes before the curtain of
Crazy for You
went up. Having entrusted their shopping bags to the little lady who ran the cloakroom, and having stocked up with programmes, they entered the auditorium and sat down in their plush velvet seats just as the overture began.

To Sophie, it was the most magical thing that she had ever seen. She sat transfixed throughout the performance, listening intently to every song and humming the melody over to herself after each was finished, desperate to remember everything that took place during the performance. The man in front of her seemed to be the tallest person in the audience, but she didn't mind, because it meant that she could lean over to the side in order to look around him and, without excuse or self-consciousness, feel the warming comfort of physical contact with Jennifer as she did so.

After the show had finished, they stood on the sidewalk outside the theatre, feeling the sultry heat of the evening blow about their faces and, deciding not to take a taxi, they turned and walked off in the direction of the West Village, swinging their shopping bags to and fro as they jumbled through the words of the songs together.

By the time that they reached Twenty-first Street, their hands ached so much from carrying their bags that they succumbed to the lure of the taxi, and within a few minutes were deposited back outside the apartment in Barrymore Street. Jennifer unlocked the door and flicked on a light switch, then, dumping everything on the hall floor, she walked through to the sitting-room and sat down with a sigh of exhaustion in an armchair.

“So,” she said, looking at Sophie, “what shall we do now?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don't know. Isn't it a bit late to start doing something now?”

Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Heavens, it's ten to twelve! I'd no idea it was so late! Maybe you're right. Do you just want to go to bed?”

Sophie wrinkled up her nose in disapproval of the motion. “Not particularly. I'm pretty hungry, though!”

Jennifer slapped her hands on the arms of the chair and jumped to her feet. “Yup, so am I! So what do you want? Do you like pizza?”

“Do I not!”

“Great! Me too! So tell you what we'll do, I'll phone for the best pepperoni pizza that money can buy, and while we're waiting for it to be delivered, we'll get into our night-clothes and you can pick out a video for us to watch. Then we'll just curl up on the sofa and pig out on pizza! How's that for an idea?”

Sophie nodded slowly, a contented grin on her face. “I would say that it couldn't be better!”

Five minutes later, having changed into her nightdress, Jennifer padded into the sitting-room in her bare feet and vaulted over the back of the sofa to sit beside Sophie. The video had already started, the opening credits being accompanied by some seriously eerie music. Jennifer turned slowly to her young companion, a look of complete shock on her face. “Sophie, what on earth are we watching?”

Sophie smiled at her.
“The Amityville Horror.”

Jennifer's mouth dropped open. “Oh, Sophie, do we really want to watch this? Is there nothing a bit tamer?”

Sophie laughed. “Come on, Jennifer, it's only a
film!
Anyway, I thought we'd had enough sugary sweetness for one night. Time for a bit of nerve-tingling spice!”

Jennifer shook her head slowly. “Ooh, you evil girl!” She grabbed hold of Sophie's hand and squeezed it. “Okay, but if you're going to make me suffer this, I'm holding on to you good and tight. I just
loathe
horror films!”

Sophie let out a wicked chuckle and, pulling Jennifer's arm across her shoulder, tucked herself in against her.

Although they both heard it simultaneously, the noise at the front door was more like a soft scratching than a knock.

“Pizza time!” Jennifer exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “Last one there has to eat the box!”

They both ran for the door, and Sophie, having had more recent practice in the art of outwitting her siblings, sneaked under Jennifer's arm and made it there first. She threw it open, making the bunch of keys that hung in the lock jangle against the metal of the door handle. A couple stood in the corridor, locked together in a deep embrace, being so enwrapped in each other that it took all of two seconds before either of them realized that the door had been opened.

Sophie looked quizzically at them, thinking that neither looked very much like pizza-delivery people, then turned round to Jennifer. She stood behind her, stock-still, a look of sheer horror on her now ashened face, her mouth twitching as if she was trying to say something. Then, in the quietest voice she spoke, her tone registering both total disbelief and unbearable hurt.

“Oh, Alex, no!”

Chapter
  
THIRTY-TWO

Throughout the day on Saturday, there had been more than a few disgruntled moans from Benji and Charlie about not being included in the trip to the city, so, in order to take their minds off the unfairness of it all and to add some variety to their escapades, it was arranged for them to spend the Sunday with Sean Dalaglio. Jasmine, meanwhile, said that she wanted to take Harriet to visit her mother in North Leesport, so, David found himself to be a free agent for the first time in over two weeks.

Having allowed himself a lie-in until nine o'clock, he took Dodie for a short walk down to the marina, before setting about tidying up the house and ridding it of the clutter of camp-beds and sleeping-bags. He had taken everything outside to put into the Volkswagen, when he found himself consumed with guilt over the state of the car's interior, a week and a half's worth of ferrying children around having left it in a worse condition than when he had taken it over from Carrie. Therefore, having stretched the cable of the vacuum cleaner to its full length from house to car, he proceeded in sucking out a dust-bag's worth of sand and old candy wrappers, all which seemed to have worked their way into the most inaccessible crevices of the plastic upholstery.

As the electronic bells of the little Roman Catholic church on Champner Street began to summon the congregation to eleven-o'clock mass, he made his way to the bottom of the garden, a can of Pepsi in hand, and descended the steps to the jetty. He flicked off his deck shoes and sat dangling his feet over the edge as he watched a windsurfer skim his way across the bay about three hundred yards offshore.

God, this place really
was
perfect. He smiled to himself, realizing just how many times and on how many different occasions he'd said that over the past six weeks. But it was true. Never, for one minute, had it lost the special magic that he had felt that first morning when he had walked down to the marina and looked out across the bay. And now, on top of that, it had succeeded in casting its healing spell, not only over him, but over his whole family. But it wasn't just the place—it was the people as well. Everyone had played a part in his revitalization and in his own children's readjustment to family life, something which was going to make it so much easier for them all when they returned to Scotland.

Scotland. His mind turned to the distillery, and he wondered for the hundredth time if he shouldn't have asked Archie to fax him back regardless, the lack of response having left a niggling doubt in his mind that something untoward might be taking place. But then again, Archie would surely have contacted him.

As he finished off the last remaining drops of the can he started, turning his head quickly towards the house, positive that he had just heard the sound of a door banging.

“Hullo?”

He waited for five seconds, listening for a reply, then jumped to his feet and ran back up the steps. The side door stood ajar.

“Hullo?” he called out again as he walked across the lawn to the porch. He heard a scuttling noise from inside the house, and Dodie came bouncing out of the screen door, followed immediately by Sophie.

For a moment, David just stood looking at her, her presence there being so unexpected.

“Sophie?” he said, a confused tone to his voice. “What are
you
doing here? I thought you weren't due back until tonight.”

Sophie said nothing, but ran over to him and put her arms around his chest, holding herself tight against him.

“Has something happened, darling?”

Sophie looked up at him, a worried expression on her face, and nodded her head.

“What? Tell me.”

Sophie took a couple of deep breaths, as if steeling herself to speak, before she finally blurted out her explanation.

“It was so awful, Dad! We'd been to the theatre and then we went back to Jennifer's place and we were watching a video and waiting for the pizza to arrive, and then I opened the front door and there was this man and woman there, and they were snogging each other in the corridor.” She pulled herself even tighter against her father. “It was Jennifer's
husband,
Dad!”

David stood with his eyes tightly shut, not wishing to hear the final sentence, knowing already what she was going to say. For a moment, he held his daughter in silence.

“When did you get back to Leesport?” he asked quietly.

“Last night—no, this morning, I suppose, at about three o'clock. We just packed our things and came back. Poor Jennifer, Dad. She was
so
upset all the way home.”

David bent forward and kissed the top of her head. “Did you see Jasmine when you got home?”

“No, we were pretty quiet. I don't think Jennifer wanted to see anyone. Then, when I got up about an hour ago and went downstairs, there was no one in the house, but I found a note on the kitchen table from Jasmine saying that she had seen the car and explaining where everyone had gone today. That's why I knew you were here. Then I went into the conservatory and found Jennifer. She's just sitting there by herself on the sofa.” She looked up at her father again. “I asked her if she wanted me to get you, and she just nodded without speaking. I was going to ring, but I thought it would be better if I came and saw you, so I borrowed Benji's bike.”

David put his arm around his daughter's shoulders and began walking towards the house. “Listen, we'll just leave the bike here for now and go straight up there in the Volkswagen, okay?”

Sophie stopped and looked up at him. “Actually, Dad, I think it would be better if you went alone. To be quite honest, I don't want to go up there now.”

“Right. In that case, will you stay here and look after Dodie?”

Sophie nodded.

David gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Look, I'll be back as soon as I can. And don't worry. I'll speak to Jennifer and see if I can help her to get something sorted out.”

“She's such a lovely person, Dad, and it's just so horrible seeing her look so sad.”

“I know. Well, let's see what I can do, okay?”

As soon as he arrived at the house, David caught sight of Jennifer through the conservatory window, sitting motionless on the sofa. He got out of the car and walked round the side to the French doors, watching her at all times through the glass. Yet her eyes never followed him, even though, at one point, he moved directly through her line of sight. He entered the room and quietly sat on the low coffee-table in front of her. Her legs were tucked up under her chin, her vacant eyes puffy with too little sleep and too much crying, her cheeks streaked with tear-stains. David reached forward and stroked the back of his hand up and down her bare arm.

“Jennifer? Are you all right?”

She didn't look at him, but took in a deep sniff. “That's a pretty stupid question for Superman. Does it look as if I'm all right?”

David glanced down at his hands and began flicking at one thumb-nail with the other. She was right. It was pretty stupid.

“Alex has been having an affair with his bloody business associate for three months, David,” she said, her voice choking.

“Yeah.”

Jennifer turned to him. “What do you mean, ‘Yeah'? Did you know about it?”

David rubbed at his forehead with his fingers. “Well, in a way. Jasmine had an idea that something was going on. She overheard Alex talking on the telephone the day of the tennis party. But she didn't know for certain, Jennifer, and once she'd told me, I didn't really think it was for us to say anything.”

Jennifer nodded and looked away. “No, I don't suppose it was. I should have realized it myself.”

As she said this, she leaned her face forward on her knees and burst into tears once more. David got up from the table, and squeezing himself down between the arm of the sofa and her back, he pulled her against him and began rocking her gently, as if comforting a distraught child.

“What did I do wrong, David? Was it my fault? What did I do
wrong?
”

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. You mustn't blame yourself for this. It's totally Alex's fault that this happened.”