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Authors: Harrison Young

BOOK: Nantucket
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As he went to find Cathy's phone, it occurred to Andrew that maybe he should have kissed Janis. On the cheek, you understand. As a way of expressing sympathy. For a moment he imagined kissing her. The desk would have been in the way. Andrew hoped Janis wasn't going to haunt him like Venetia. She'd been in one of his dreams already.

What Cathy had failed to tell him was that she had told their daughter they were separating, providing an explanation that, if indirect, was easy enough for a young woman living in San Francisco to decode. After ten minutes of waiting for his phone call, Florence had turned into Eleanor. She was mightily
upset. “Daddy, what have you done to Mom?” she said.

“Pretended she loved me,” he said.

“What a shitty thing to say,” said Florence, who rarely used that sort of language, even if her sister and her parents did. “What a shitty thing to do. You should have let her go years ago, if what you're both telling me is true. And by the way, I do not want wedding pictures with my parents' gay lovers in them.”

“I'm not gay,” said Andrew.

“How come you could live with Mom, then – she being what you secretly knew she was?”

“I found her attractive. We had some good times. I can be slow to figure things out.” Andrew considered but rejected the idea of telling Florence about the many ways reality could manifest. Or about “house rules.” Nor did he attempt to persuade her that he
hadn't
known. He needed to keep things simple.

“Well, just stay together for eleven more months. Richard and I plan to get married when he graduates. We want to have the ceremony in Nantucket.”

“I hope you don't plan to drop out of college,” said Andrew.

“I know. Mom would kill me – or it would kill her. But I'll definitely finish. I'll transfer my credits. I'll figure out how to do that once we know where Richard will be working, which will probably be San Francisco. We don't want children for ten years. I want to establish my practice first.”

Andrew should have gone downstairs right away but he needed a minute. This was Cathy's bedroom. His too, but his wife made the rules. Memories swelled up the way the sea did when there was a storm offshore. “Never trust a woman,” he remembered Cathy saying to him once. He'd been outfoxed by one at work, when he was an associate, and his wife had
scolded him for it. “Women are natural liars,” Cathy had told him. “We make nice because we have to.” Even then, Cathy had been trying to confess.

The girl in question had flirted with him, which was impossible not to enjoy, and he'd forgotten to defend his turf. She'd wound up getting credit for a deal that should have been his.

Who was his unhappy wife warning him about now – or his subconscious warning him by calling up memories? It occurred to him that he hadn't figured Judy out. According to Janis, she was brilliant. According to Rosemary, she was soft. What she had to do with Andrew he could not imagine. But she was her father's daughter, so you didn't get to know what was going on in her head.

The Governor had been a
leitmotif
in Andrew's life since the first week of college. Andrew was rather proud of having George as a friend. If George's daughter became Mrs Shiva as a result of this house party, Andrew would like that too.

Meanwhile, did he need to fear the next Mrs Shiva? He did not. If there was a problem, Janis would take care of it.

“They want to get married next June,” he announced to the lunch table when he came downstairs. “Here in our garden.” And love has made my daughter daft, he didn't add. She cannot imagine anything ever going wrong.

“That would be lovely for you,” said Rosemary, presumably referring to a Nantucket wedding, though for a moment he thought she meant never imagining things going wrong. There was a politeness in her tone that troubled Andrew, but there was too much happening for him to brood about it.

“Where's Janis?” said Joe, having come in from the garden.

“She'll be down in a minute, I expect,” said Andrew.
“She wanted to finish something.”

“We need to talk about logistics,” said Joe cheerfully. Shiva was right about the man. The prospect of managing something – anything – made him happy. “I understand we only have four tickets on the plane back to New York. I have meetings first thing Monday morning, so I'm afraid I need one of them. Cynthia needs to be there too, as we all know. Her audience expects it. Shiva?”

“I have a little more flexibility than you two. Rosemary, you have a luncheon date, if I remember.”

“I can get there via Boston,” said Rosemary. “That is, if one of the Governor's advisers is prepared to stay the night here and lets me have her ticket to Boston. I assume you have to fly back this afternoon, George, so I'll go with you. I can take a shuttle from Boston to New York.” She left the table and went outside before anyone could agree or disagree.

“I'd quite like to go tonight,” said Cathy.

“So that would be Shiva, Cathy, Cyn and me on the plane?” said Joe. “You'll have to pretend to be Rosemary, Cathy.”

“They let me change the names on the tickets,” said Andrew.

“How are we on the drafting, Janis?” said the Governor. She was just sitting down at the table. “You know, they shouldn't let you do that, Andrew,” he added. “Cathy could be a terrorist.”

“I can be done in about three hours if Judy helps me,” said Janis. “And assuming I've understood what everyone wants.”

“We all probably need to spend a couple of hours being sure of that,” said Shiva. “I can stay in New York until Wednesday.”

“But I can't leave Massachusetts,” said the Governor. “Perhaps we could get the confidentiality matter done today though.”

Andrew could see his deal disappearing like a sandcastle at high tide.

“You're speaking at some learned society's annual dinner on Wednesday night in London, Shiva dear,” said Rosemary, who had come back inside but continued not to look at Andrew. “And you are very tired. The fact that you couldn't take a proper nap today just proves it. You need to fly back to London on Monday morning on your own plane and have two nights in your own bed before you're expected to stand up in public and explain the coming surprises of the twenty-first century. I think that was your topic. I'll make my own way back on a commercial flight and be there to hear you.” She paused. “And before you sell all the seats on tonight's puddle-jumper, remember that there is a young woman on the porch who is probably entitled to a ticket.”

“I assumed Sally would be needed here,” said Joe. “For a day or two.” Astonishing that he contemplated leaving her on Nantucket. What was it Judy had said about the very rich regarding everyone else as servants?

“I can stay if that's required,” said Sally, who had pulled herself together and had just come in. She was obviously speaking to Joe, but he didn't seem to know that. She looks destroyed, Andrew said to himself. Disappointed expectations could do that. “And no, I won't have any lunch,” Sally continued. “But I wouldn't mind lying down, if someone could tell me what bedroom to use.”

“I'm out of the servant's room,” said Rosemary.

“Thank you,” said Sally, and started in that direction.

Andrew needed to talk to Rosemary, who seemed to be angry at him. He needed to talk to Joe, who seemed to be his only remaining client. He needed to talk to Cathy about staying
together for eleven months, though he didn't see how they could do that. He was unemployed. He could use a lie-down himself, but that wasn't feasible. He didn't have a bedroom any more.

“Cynthia,” said Joe. His wife had appeared at the kitchen door. “I've saved you a seat on tonight's plane, but where have you been?”

“I was hiding out in the maid's room, but the maid required it.”

“The Maid Required It,” said Shiva with a chuckle. “That could be another one of your movie titles, Rosemary.” No one laughed. It seemed to Andrew that a month had passed since that first dinner.

“What do you mean, ‘hiding out?'” said Cathy.

“It's a long story,” said Cynthia.

“Oh really?” said Cathy, holding Cynthia's gaze. Cathy was still wearing the dramatic costume she had arrived in – and no doubt feeling uncomfortable in it. Cynthia had re-cocooned herself in fame and glamour. Cathy thought Cynthia was ridiculing her, and was becoming hostile. That sort of thing happened with Cathy.

Andrew caught Rosemary's eye. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Not yet,” she said.

Janis caught the Governor's eye. “We need to talk,” she said.

“I think you need to be drafting,” he said. “Which we all really appreciate.” He looked around the table. “Could everyone please acknowledge that Janis is doing us all a big favour?”

Murmurs of agreement.

“Ask Judy to join me when she can,” said Janis. She folded
her napkin as if to leave the table but remained seated. She looked exhausted.

“Where is she, anyway?” said Shiva.

“She's in the garden, I think,” said the Governor.

“Why is Judy still in the garden?” said Rosemary. “Didn't anyone tell her lunch was ready?” She too looked worn out.

“It's sort of a pick-up lunch,” said Andrew. He felt it must be his fault Judy hadn't been told. Something was clearly his fault, anyway.

“We need to know what she wants to do tonight,” said Joe, still absorbed by the cannibals-and-Christians problem. “That is, we need to know eventually, so everyone gets on the right plane – or the right ferry.

“Oh, and I'm not forgetting about you, Sally,” he added, looking around “But where is she.”

“Thank you for your concern,” said Judy, coming in with a plate of food. “Sally's lying down,” she said. “In answer to your question, Rosemary, I was aware that lunch had been served. But I had some thinking to do.” Soft sweet Judy had evidently been listening from the kitchen – and was the only one of them who hadn't lost her nerve.

“I've been doing some thinking too,” said the Governor, “and we need to talk.”

“No we don't, father,” she replied.

“I've had a conversation with Shiva,” said George.

“With respect, father, you didn't have a conversation. You made a speech.”

“You talked, didn't you, Shiva?” said the Governor.

“Not as such,” said Judy.

“I listened,” said Shiva. “And then I talked to Judy.”

“So now,” said Judy, “would you all please listen to me?
And Cynthia, would you ask the maid, as you call her, to come back?”

There was some moving of chairs and fragmentary conversation as Sally was retrieved. “This feels like the end of a detective story,” said Joe.

“No corpse yet,” said Rosemary.


I
am going to see a tiger,” said Judy. “My strategy, which I recommend to anybody who needs one, is not to be afraid.” She looked at Rosemary as she said this. “Shiva and I will be on the plane to New York tonight, and to London tomorrow. I will see to it that he gets enough sleep. I will listen with interest to his views on the surprises of the twenty-first century, one of which is clearly me.”

“Don't drink the water,” said Rosemary. She was washing her hands of Judy.

“Joe will also be on the puddle-jumper,” Judy continued. “He needs to be in New York when the press release goes out tomorrow morning. The Concert of Nantucket will come into being in the next three hours, and
parts of it
will have to be disclosed.

“The fourth ticket should go to Sally. She has finished her work here.”

“But Cyn has to be in New York before dawn,” said Joe.

“No, I don't,” said Cynthia. “I've called in sick.”

“You have?” said Cathy, suddenly brightening. “I didn't know you were allowed to do that.”

“I've given myself permission,” said Cynthia. “A person has to do that sometimes,” she added softly. “Anyway, the woman who fills in for me when I take vacation will be delighted.”

“We need to go back to work, Janis,” said Judy.

“Yes, we do,” said Janis cheerfully. She had pulled herself
together well. She believed in work. The two young lawyers left the table.

The Governor started to stand up as well, but Shiva put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate your concern for Judy, George,” he said, “but I'll look after her. And it would be really helpful if you didn't apologise to Janis until the document is finished.”

“What am I supposed to apologise for?” said the Governor.

“Being yourself,” said Shiva.

“What's happening, please?” said Joe, who had lost his grip on the logistics.

“There have been some misunderstandings,” said Andrew. “But it's being sorted out. You can apologise to Sally whenever you want.”

Joe looked over at Sally. “Wasn't I clear?” he said. “You're coming to live with me. I just didn't think we'd want to leave Andrew with all the laundry and dishes.”

“I think you failed to mention that,” said Rosemary. “And you're a billionaire. Hire cleaners.”

“Oh, I intend to do that, but someone has to supervise them, which I thought Sally could do since she knows the house.”

“Joe, you're an idiot,” said Cynthia, smiling. “Not that I'm not one too from time to time,” she added.

“It's all right, Cynthia,” said Sally. “I'm a prostitute, remember. I know all about being used.” She dropped her voice an octave. “But I may have to punish him for it.” Her billionaire blushed.

Rosemary walked around the table and put her hand on Andrew's shoulder. “If you can tell me which bedroom is free,” she said, “I might just take a nap myself.”

“Use my room,” said the Governor. “I'm not sleepy.”
Rosemary went upstairs without a word. Joe suggested to Sally that they put her things in the room they'd shared the previous night. Cynthia announced rather quietly that she and Cathy were going for a walk. “Topless?” Andrew was tempted to ask but didn't. Everyone was naked enough already.

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