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Authors: Harrison Young

BOOK: Nantucket
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You know how to do this, he'd said to himself, and extracting a pad and pencil from a drawer in the sideboard, scribbled a chart:

This put Andrew in the middle. He was a professional intermediary, after all. It gave the seats of honour to a Governor and a prince, in case anyone cared about protocol. Joe clearly didn't. He'd like sitting next to Sally. Janis could help Judy if she lost her nerve. If Cynthia was a no-show, Sally could take her spot and the table would be symmetrical again. And if Cyn came to dinner but was in a bad mood, Andrew could pay lots of attention to her. And this is high finance? he'd said to himself with a chuckle.

In the end, though, the
placement
couldn't have mattered. Andrew tried to engage Cynthia as soon as everyone sat down, but she paid no attention. What was Shiva going to eat, she wanted to know in a loud voice. The walk they'd gone on evidently hadn't made them friends.

“Everything,” he said happily. Not being friends with a skinny celebrity was not something he worried about.

“But isn't that against your religion?” said Cynthia.

“I'm a multi-cultural person,” he said. “I honour the customs of the place. I am in magical Nantucket – thanks to Andrew. I have visited a lighthouse – thanks to Joe. I have walked on the beach with a half-naked woman – thanks to your excellent self. And now I will eat beef and lobster – thanks to Cathy and Joe.”

This speech made everyone except Cynthia laugh. “So you're a fake Hindu?” she said.

“Hinduism is a syncretic faith,” he said. “We have many gods and many customs.”

The Governor of Massachusetts interrupted: “I move that eating strange foods be viewed as tolerance rather than misbehaviour.”

“How about kissing strange women?” Judy blurted out and then looked at her lap.

“Uh…indeed,” said the Governor. He paused. “And in that spirit, I propose a toast to our host and hostess.” He reached for his glass, which was empty. Rosemary poured him some wine from one of the bottles Sally had put on the table. “Not too much, please,” he said.

“I'm not drinking at all,” said Cynthia. It seemed to Andrew that alcohol was exactly what Cynthia needed, but he didn't want to start an argument.

“I will follow the Governor's gracious suggestion,” said Shiva. Janis poured him half a glass.

“To new friends and old,” said the Governor, raising his glass and looking around the table.

“I'll vote for him,” said Joe.

Again, everyone except Cynthia laughed. But suddenly everyone was talking at once, and it didn't matter. “How do you open this thing?” said Shiva, pointing to his lobster.

“You use the cracker,” said Judy. “Let me show you.” She held her hand around his and applied pressure until the claw broke open. He liked that.

“You put the shells in the empty bowls,” said Sally.

“Where's the melted butter?” said Janis.

“It must still be in the kitchen,” said Sally.

“I'll get it,” said Janis.

Cynthia hadn't engaged with her crustacean yet. She doesn't do messy, Andrew said to himself. He looked over at Rosemary and saw that she was reading his mind.

“I forgot to buy bibs,” said Sally.

“It doesn't matter,” said Rosemary.

“Just to remind everyone,” said Sally, “there's one apiece with three left over.”

“After that you have to make do with steak,” said Joe.

“It is pretty impressive steak,” said the Governor, acknowledging Joe's contribution. “I assume you eat steak,” he said to Cynthia, “coming from Texas.”

“If someone wants my lobster…” she said.

“That makes it one and a half each,” said Judy, who was getting enthusiastically messy.

“You have lobster expertise, I see,” said Shiva.

“Do you come from Nantucket?” said Cynthia.

“Boston,” said Judy. “North End. Grew up in sight of the Old North Church. As in Paul Revere and the midnight ride. Do you know that poem? Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Don't you wish you had a grand name like that?”

“I know that bit of American history,” said Shiva. “And the Governor does have that sort of name, in case you've forgotten.”

“Shiva's full name takes five minutes to say,” said Rosemary, but you're not allowed to say it all because some bits are sacred.”

“She's making that up,” said Shiva, smiling at his wife. She tilted her head a bit. “Well, mostly making it up,” he said.

“I'll bet Lady Rosemary is good at making things up,” said the Governor. She accepted the compliment by looking down as if demurely.

“The North End's an Italian neighbourhood now,” said Judy, expertly extracting meat from her lobster's skinny legs. “Good restaurants but no Longfellows.”

“What does your father do?” said Cynthia.

She probably thinks he's a garbage collector, Andrew said to himself. She appeared to be looking for a fight.

“I don't know,” said Judy. “He disappeared before I was born, according to my mother. Late mother, I should say.”

“So you're illegitimate,” said Cynthia. She didn't want a fight. She wanted a car crash. But Judy refused to oblige her by reacting. Andrew envied her confidence.

“Did she get to see you graduate from law school and become a Supreme Court clerk?” said Rosemary, pretending not to hear Cynthia.

“She did,” said Judy. “But only because I went to college when I was fifteen. I got a scholarship. She died right before I moved back to Boston. I came home for the funeral and when I got back to Washington I learned that I was going back to
Boston. That's why I had to sleep on Janis's couch. I couldn't face living where she died. I don't believe in ghosts, except that maybe I do.”

“Call them ‘spirits,'” said Shiva.

“She must have been very proud,” said the Governor softly.

“Does it bother you, Judy, being a bastard?” said Cynthia in her innocent interviewer voice. She's unhinged, Andrew said to himself. He wondered why Joe didn't try to rein her in.

“Being illegitimate is not a person's fault,” said the Governor. “Used to be, but society is kinder than it was even twenty-five years ago.”

“It wasn't always a bad deal,” said Rosemary.

She was trying to take the spotlight off Judy, Andrew could see, same as George. Of course, whatever Cynthia's problem was, it had nothing to do with Judy.

“I'm descended from a bastard myself,” said Rosemary, “one of a dozen or more with whom Charles the Second endowed his kingdom. My great, great, great, however many it is, grandmother. His Majesty married her off to the son of one of the nobles who had accompanied him to France.”

“So are you a Roman Catholic?” said Janis.

“Well, I probably should be, but I'm not. I was christened that way but I've missed confession too often to claim affiliation.”

“Can we assume you've had plenty to confess?” said Cynthia, but no one paid attention to her.

“My mother was a Roman Catholic,” said Judy. “She went to mass every morning before she went to work. She was a secretary.”

“What did she pray for?” said Cynthia. It struck Andrew that she actually wanted to know the answer.

“I think she prayed for me,” said Judy, answering Cynthia
in a surprisingly gentle voice. “And for my father.”

“Did she tell you that?” said the Governor.

“No,” said Judy. “She wouldn't tell me anything about him. But it would have been like her to pray for him. She was a charitable person.”

“And so are you,” said the Governor.

Andrew looked over at Rosemary again. She nodded her head in Cynthia's direction. The woman appeared to be working up to something. Now we will have that car crash, he told himself.

“I've made an interesting discovery,” said Cynthia to no one in particular.

“What's that?” said Judy in a friendly voice.
See what I told you about her being charitable
? George's face said.

“Pictures in frames,” said Cynthia. The hairs on the back of Andrew's neck stood up. “In the drawer at the bottom of the linen closet.” Sally looked up. “Pictures of your family, Andrew.” Everyone had stopped talking. “Pictures of you and two girls who look like you and a woman who isn't here.”

“That would be Cathy,” said Sally, with astonishing aplomb. Looking around the table, Andrew realised that everyone except Cynthia already knew his wife had gone missing. He should have told Sally that. Fortunately – Rosemary had.

“Now that we know you aren't Andrew's wife,” Cynthia continued, “perhaps we should know who you are?”

“Does it matter?” said Rosemary.

“I think she's a very nice hostess,” said Shiva.

“How can we say it doesn't matter?” said Cynthia. “We've been lied to. We've been here under false pretences – or invited under false pretences. Andrew said, quote, he and Cathy were inviting us. Come stay with us on Nantucket, he said.”

“Cathy and I did invite you,” said Andrew, “but when we arrived, she'd gone missing.”

“If it's anyone's fault, it's mine,” said Sally. “My name is ‘Sally' if you care. But I wasn't the point of the weekend, and neither was Cathy, to be fair. So I suggested to Andrew that we just pretend I was Cathy. He had about fifteen seconds to decide what to do.”

“At the airport,” said Joe.

“Pretty gutsy move,” said Janis. Andrew liked her saying that.

“But I mean,” said Cynthia, “you had to sleep together.”

“Men and women do that,” said Rosemary.

“We had to disappear into the same bedroom,” said Sally. “That's all.”

“Well, it gives me the creeps,” said Cynthia. “What's happened to the real Cathy? Have you murdered her?”

“Perhaps,” said Andrew, feeling briefly mischievous. “But no, we don't know where she is.”

“I told Andrew she'd gone to Munich to see their older daughter, Eleanor. I said she was having some sort of emotional crisis.”

“Eleanor's been having an emotional crisis for several months,” said Andrew, “so I believed it. And to be honest, I wasn't particularly worried. She's twenty. Eleanor is, I mean. She doesn't know what she wants to do with her life. Her younger sister has a serious boyfriend and she doesn't. So she's decided she hates her parents – or at least her father.”

“We don't hate you, Andrew,” said Janis.

“Thank you. And I assume Eleanor is just going through a phase.”

“But doesn't it bother you to be hated?” said Judy.

“After twenty years on Wall Street, I can cope with hostility.”

“After half a century in my beloved but complicated family, I understand the concept,” said Shiva. “Not that it doesn't sometimes require fortitude.”

“Indeed,” said the Governor. “Nearly half the people of Massachusetts vote against me.”

“Only forty per cent of those who voted,” said Janis, “which means less than a quarter of the adult population.”

“Janis looks after my ego as well as my office,” said the Governor.

“A good quality in a woman,” said Shiva.

“But not necessarily good for the man,” said Rosemary.

“The point is,” said Andrew, “I thought I knew where Cathy was, but it wasn't relevant. I'd invited Joe and Shiva here, with their beautiful wives – he smiled at Rosemary and then at Cynthia, with mixed results – to get to know each other, not to know Cathy and me.”

“But we've
enjoyed
getting to know you, Andrew,” said Rosemary.

That was something of an understatement, which Andrew hoped Rosemary planned to elaborate on later that night. He managed to suppress his own smile.

“And we've liked getting to know you too, Sally,” she continued, “even if you turned out not to be Cathy.” Rosemary had definitely warned Sally she'd been found out. She could have done that while he and Joe were building the fire. Or at the whaling museum while Joe looked at every exhibit.

“So you lied to Andrew too,” said Cynthia, ignoring the general laughter at Rosemary's remarks.

“I did,” said Sally, “but that was simpler than telling Andrew I didn't know where she'd gone. Or perhaps I should
say ‘more expedient.' I didn't want to distract him.”

The thought briefly visited Andrew that Sally was telling him she knew where Cathy was, but he ignored it. He'd be told when he needed to know. “I
would
have been distracted,” he said. And of course Sally knew.

“Cathy – I mean Sally – did what any good subordinate would do,” said Joe. “I for one appreciate it, and I imagine Shiva does too. We had an agenda this weekend.” Andrew watched Joe think about what he'd just said and turn towards Sally. “Not that you're anyone's subordinate,” he corrected himself.

“Employee,” said Sally, smiling at Joe.

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