‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
He stepped out on to the back lawn and walked down towards the edge of the lake, to the restored pavilion. He glanced back at the house, which looked magnificent with every window blazing with golden light. He tried to lock the memory in: Casa D’Or in all its glory. He knew he was unlikely to ever come back.
He turned and faced the lake again, watching the moonlight ripple across the inky black surface.
‘Jim.’
He heard a voice behind him and turned.
At first the backlight from the house made it difficult to see. Then his vision came into focus and he realised it was Jennifer.
Chapter Thirty-Five
‘Jen,’ he said with total shock.
‘I’ve gatecrashed,’ she replied in a voice so small he could hardly hear it.
Her smile was apologetic. It made Jim felt ashamed. This was her house, her past, and he hadn’t even invited her. He also acknowledged that it had taken some balls for her to be here. His silence over the past few weeks had surely sent the message that he didn’t want to see her or speak to her again.
‘Don’t worry. Marion gave me her ticket, if you want to know how I wriggled past security.’
His heart was beating hard. He felt caught out and unprepared.
‘How are you, Jennifer?’ he said after a moment.
‘Getting there,’ she said slowly. ‘The divorce is going through. Connor isn’t contesting it. He wants it done quickly too. And I have a new place. In the East Village, believe it or not. I’m still not sure whether it’s a little too young and edgy for me down there. What’s that expression I heard you use once? I feel like mutton dressed as lamb. But it’s great. The apartment takes dogs, so I’ve got Mars Bar with me. And it’s right near Prune. They do the best Sunday brunches.’
‘I’ve been. And the best Bloody Mary menu in town.’
‘For a long time I drank too much. I don’t any more,’ she said quietly. ‘Although the odd glass of champagne might tempt me tonight,’ she added as if she were trying to not be too sombre.
‘Well, I can recommend the non-alcoholic cocktails. The virgin mojito is excellent,’ he said as briskly as he could.
He took a moment to observe her, and watching her, eager and nervous, made his heart soften.
‘I can’t believe you came tonight,’ he said, unable to stop the crisp questioning note in his voice. He knew that his heart would probably always skip a beat when he saw her, but he couldn’t forget the day they had last spoken. The day she had admitted a sexual relationship with his father.
‘I wasn’t going to pay to see the house,’ she smiled, a moonbeam lighting up her face in the softest, most beautiful way. ‘This way I get to have a snoop around without having to book a room.’
Jim shrugged, unable to shake off his discomfort. ‘I would have sorted you out with a visit,’ he said, inhaling deeply, hoping that the faintly salty air would get rid of his own sudden desire for a drink.
‘It was difficult to come back today,’ she admitted.
‘I was going to get in touch,’ he said, surprising himself. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’
‘I have something to say to you first,’ she said, closing her eyes as if to steel herself.
He heard her inhale deeply, then she opened her eyes and looked at him directly.
‘Don’t say anything, otherwise I might not get the words out,’ she said. ‘This is something I should have told you a long time ago.’
He hesitated. ‘Go on.’
She shook her head, then looked up at the sky.
‘That day,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘The day you left Savannah. I was raped.’
Jim felt as if he was falling through a trapdoor as pieces of a terrible puzzle began to fall into place.