‘Hello, darlings,’ Eva said, giving George a peck on the cheek. ‘Still working?’
She glanced at the folder of sketches that Lewis was putting away in his case.
‘Just working out our pitch for tonight,’ George told her.
‘Always working.’ She gave him a mock grimace. ‘If I’d known I would have popped round to Marnie’s.’
Lewis felt the dread tighten in his stomach. ‘You know where Marnie lives?’ he asked her.
‘Sure I do,’ she said, looking at him with mischief in her eyes. ‘Don’t you?’
George was oblivious, but Lewis had seen the warning in Eva’s eyes. What exactly had Marnie told her?
‘Gin and tonic, darling?’ George asked her.
‘That would be lovely,’ she said, settling down as George got up to go to the bar.
Lewis felt Eva’s gaze upon him. Outlined in black kohl, the lids highlighted in silver, her eyes looked even larger than normal. He shifted uncomfortably on his stool.
‘George tells me he’s going to make you a partner?’
‘Yes, it’s looking like that.’
‘Congratulations on going up in the world.’
She smiled at him but Lewis wasn’t sure whether she was being sarcastic or not. ‘Thanks,’ he mumbled.
‘So now you are establishing yourself, what are your plans, Lewis?’ she asked.
‘My plans are to create good work for the agency,’ he said defensively.
‘And what about a wife?’ He heard how the word ‘wife’ was slippery in her mouth. ‘Are you thinking of settling down, starting a family? How does a nice semi-detached house in Fulham sound?’
‘I’m a bit young –’
‘Nonsense,’ Eva interrupted. ‘I was younger than you when I married.’
And how happy are you? He didn’t say it, but Lewis couldn’t help thinking it as he watched his boss push his way back to them, Eva’s gin in hand. His wife’s beauty completely outshone George. More than that, Lewis had witnessed George talking down to Eva in a way that would crush the most confident woman. How did she bear being married to such a chauvinist, and a blatant womaniser? She’d said it herself today when he’d met her at lunchtime that she knew about his affairs. Why did she put up with it?
‘Don’t let that girl slip away, Lewis,’ Eva whispered to him.
‘Excuse me?’ he asked, feeling his cheeks blush.
‘You know who I’m talking about. It’s time to make it official. You should get married.’
‘I’m not sure it’s any of your business, Mrs Miller.’
She said nothing for a second and put her head to one side.
‘Us girls have to stick together. I’m telling you to do the decent thing, Lewis.’
Her voice was soft, but he could see a fire in her eyes. Anger. Undiluted. Marnie had promised him she hadn’t told one soul about their design work, and he sensed that Eva didn’t know the truth about this at least, because she was the kind of woman who would have exposed him to George. Even so it was clear Eva was furious with him. He could feel fury rolling off her.
Nine
Light
Sky Harbor, Phoenix, 24 March 1989
Joy was leaving the desert behind her, and she was afraid. In among the red stone boulders of Arizona she had always felt soothed, safe. The landscape had taken her out of her loss, helped her begin to let her father go. She could hide here and carry on her life as before. She and her mom could continue their uneasy peace. And she could sort things out with Eddie. In his letter he had begged her forgiveness, written that he loved her. But no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t return to her former life. Now she was digesting all that was new and unexpected: her husband’s affair, her daughter’s secret love, her mom’s long-standing deceit. And Lewis. Making love with Lewis. She tried to put last night to one side, but the desert heat was searing through her heartache over Eddie. Those feelings filled her with a raw energy and gave her the strength to be brave.
Joy departed under a blazing sunset. She imagined the sinking sun swallowing her up, transforming her into dusty particles of coloured light in the sky. The wind could bring her north, all the way to the Grand Canyon and release her to the spirits of the wild. To return to earth just like her father. She could hide in the desert for the rest of her life.
Yet there was another part of her that yearned for the unknown, the real. Like the cry of a hungry baby, it could be silenced by only one thing.
As the taxi sped her towards the airport, Joy opened her bag and took out the abalone shell, resting it on her lap and looking down at its iridescent innards as they glowed in the encroaching dusk. Each second it changed before her eyes. This must be like looking at the sea, she thought, its constant shift and movement, the opposite of the heat-oppressed stillness of the desert.
Inside Sky Harbor, Joy was adrift. She walked the patterned carpet up and down in front of the check-in desk several times before she summoned the courage to join the queue. Now there was no going back.
She focused on the back of a man in line ahead of her. He was dressed in a smart black suit, overdressed for Arizona, and the unruly dark hair, the height of him reminded her a little of Lewis. Then he turned to bend down and check the lock on his suitcase, and she almost gasped out loud. Joy felt the blood rush to her face. How could it be that Lewis Bell was on the same flight as her to New York?
*
Lewis was hot in his suit, but he was determined to keep the jacket on. People – especially women – were looking at him differently. He was finally taking action. After all these years he was going to find Marnie. He had no idea what he would say to her when he saw her besides sorry. He owed her that at least.
And, afterwards, would he ever return to Arizona? Again, Joy popped into his head, the strangeness of their union in the desert, its sweetness, unwrapping his senses and his passion for the first time in years. He wondered how she was, and what was happening with her philandering husband. He hoped she wouldn’t forgive him. His new friend deserved better.
The young woman behind the check-in counter handed him his boarding pass, and he watched his bag as it shuttled away. It was done now. He really was going to Ireland.
His heart swelled at the thought of it – and then at a light touch on his suited arm. He turned, and to his astonishment there was Joy Sheldon in front of him. She was wearing a dress with a pattern of red roses upon it, and her cheeks were deep pink, her jet-black hair falling in loose waves around her face.
‘Hello,’ she said.
Lewis couldn’t believe she was here too. It was only when the line moved forward and Joy was called to the counter that he found his voice.
‘Are you on this flight?’ he asked.
‘Yes . . .’ she murmured before going up to the desk.
He waited for her, slightly worried now. Was Joy Sheldon following him? Was she going to attach herself to him now that her husband had left her for another woman?
‘How did you know I was on this flight?’ he asked as she rejoined him, holding her boarding pass.
‘I didn’t know you were on this flight, Lewis,’ she said to him, a little taken aback and defensive.
He immediately regretted thinking the worst of her. ‘So why are you flying to New York on your own?’ he asked, consciously making his tone much friendlier. ‘What about your husband?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not going to New York. I’m changing flights in JFK,’ she said, avoiding his second question. ‘I’m going to Ireland.’
‘To Dublin with Aer Lingus?’
She nodded. He looked at her in disbelief. ‘This is incredible,’ he said. ‘So am I.’
‘You’re going to find Marnie then?’ she asked, her voice so soft he could hardly hear her.
‘Yes, I got another postcard this morning.’ He took it out of his suit pocket and handed it to her. ‘It made my mind up. Now Samantha’s left there’s nothing stopping me.’
‘It’s not
your fault,’ she read then looked up at him. ‘What does she mean?’
He sighed. ‘It’s a long story. But what about you? Why have you decided to go to Ireland? You said nothing about it yesterday.’
‘A lot has happened since yesterday.’ She looked at him, pensive for a moment, before opening her bag and taking out a piece of paper.
‘I found my original birth certificate this morning – in my dad’s garage.’ She flapped the piece of paper in front of him. ‘With my birth mother’s name on it, and where I was born. I just knew it was a sign. That I had to go, right now.’
Neither of them spoke and Joy wondered again if a name and an address would be enough – after all, forty years had passed. Might her mother still be in Ballycastle? Joy had tried to convince herself that she’d be glad just to see the place, to return at last to her homeland. But she couldn’t help hoping.
‘Did you talk to your husband first?’ Lewis asked.
She shook her head, tears began to fill her eyes. ‘I can’t face him, Lewis,’ she said, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. ‘I’m so confused. I thought if I focused on this, you know, take time to find some answers about who I am then it might help me sort my marriage out.’
So she was running away. He of all people recognised the impulse for flight.
‘I’m a bit nervous,’ she said after a moment. ‘I’ve never flown so far before.’
‘Why don’t we ask them to change our seats and put us next to each other,’ he offered without hesitating. ‘Then at least I can hold your hand for you – if you need me to,’ he added with a laugh.
She looked at him with hopeful eyes. ‘You don’t mind?’
‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘We’re friends, remember?’
He wondered why he was offering to share this peculiar journey to Ireland with her. All he knew was that he wanted to. He was glad she was here.
‘You look different,’ she told him as they headed towards the departure gates. ‘I like your suit. Real classic.’
‘It’s very old,’ he told her. ‘And loaded with memories.’
London, 13 April 1967, 8.46 p.m.
It was time for a seduction night, as George called them.
For their big dinner pitching to a potential client, George, Eva and Lewis met the others in the rooftop restaurant at Bowen’s department store in Kensington.
Lewis was tired. The effects of the joint he’d shared with Lizzie had long worn off, and the intensity of the hour he’d spent with Marnie had depleted him. He felt edgy, restless. Eva’s cold stares were making him nervous, and he was anxious about how the Phoenix executive would respond to the pitch. On top of all that he had to tell George about Marnie.
The rest of the Studio M team were already seated. Frankie with his wife Gina; Pete and Marnie sitting next to each other. Lewis felt it was a good sign that George had invited Marnie to join them. Maybe he wasn’t as chauvinist as all that. Although, as he watched Eva slip into a seat beside Marnie and immediately start talking to her, he had a feeling that she’d had more to do with the invitation than George.
Marnie looked stunning in a black halter-neck dress, her rich chestnut hair piled on top of her head, her blue eyes smoky with slate-grey kohl. She gave him a tiny smile, and he immediately wanted to kiss her. It was all he could do not to go over and take her face in his hands. You love this woman, a voice said in his head. The idea of it thrilled him. He made a promise to himself. By the end of the night George would not only know all about Marnie’s design work, but they would also tell everyone that they were a couple.
‘Big night, boys,’ George said after he’d ordered a round of drinks and sat down. ‘But I think we’ll win the pitch, won’t we, Lewis?’
‘I hope so.’
‘We’ve a good strong logo – and the Americans like that, nothing too fancy.’
‘I didn’t know we’d already come up with a pitch, George,’ Frankie said.
He was smiling, but Lewis could sense that the Italian was annoyed at his exclusion.
‘Well, you know it was all so last minute,’ George said. ‘I just got Lewis to rattle something off this afternoon . . . an emblem of a red phoenix – simple but memorable.’
‘Let’s see it,’ Pete said, turning to him with interest.
Lewis could feel the heat of Marnie’s gaze. Here they all were discussing her ideas, her drawings, as if she had nothing to do with it.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea just in case they walk in now,’ Lewis said, looking to George.
‘Lewis is right. Plenty of time for that later.’
The drinks came and George raised his glass. ‘Here’s to Studio M and our pioneering design work.’
Lewis was drinking his second whisky when the client Rex Leigh arrived, along with his wife, a statuesque blonde called Meryl.
George snapped into his professional persona, turning on his English-gentleman routine to charm Meryl.
Lewis imagined he was looking down at the spectacle of the dinner table from above. The half-eaten plates of food, glasses of red and white wine, empty cocktail glasses and flickering candles merging with the women’s finery. The men: George in his element, leaning back in his chair, sharing an anecdote with Rex, who was roaring with laughter. Frankie, hanging on every word George was saying. And Pete. As always, the quiet one. Trying to overcome his shyness as he spoke to Gina, Frankie’s wife.
Lewis felt something brush against his knee. He looked across the table and found Marnie smiling back at him. Her foot was between his legs. Her toes squeezing either side of his balls. He shifted in the seat. She shouldn’t do this, yet the boldness of it excited him. They stared at each other across the flotsam of the dinner table. He imagined standing up and grabbing her with one hand, sweeping all the dinner plates, glasses and candles onto the floor with the other. He would pull her up onto the table, rip her long black dress off and take her from behind.
He slipped his foot out of his shoe and stretched his leg under the table, letting his toes trail up her leg and slip under her dress, until they reach the top of her thighs. They locked eyes as he slipped his foot in further. He watched colour spreading across her cheeks, her eyes widening, her lips parting. She was wanton, and he loved her for it.
Her foot was working his cock now. It was so illicit, so bold – the sexiest thing he had ever done.
He took a big swig to finish his whisky, shaking the ice in the bottom of his glass. He noticed Frankie’s eyes upon him, as if he knew what they were doing.
George was about to order more drinks when the waiter announced there was a telephone call for Lewis. There was only one person he had told where he would be tonight. He silently cursed his sister. Why the hell had he told her? He slid his foot out from under Marnie’s dress and he felt her leg withdraw, a questioning look in her eyes.
‘Excuse me.’ He got up and brushed his lap down with his napkin, hoping his arousal wasn’t noticeable, and wove through the restaurant towards the receptionist with her outstretched hand and telephone. And, in doing so, he walked unwittingly towards his doom.
Ten
Space
New York, 25 March 1989
Joy distracted Lewis from the nerves that rose within him, the doubt that attempted to break his resolve. He could not have sat out that long wait overnight at JFK for the flight to Dublin on his own. He would surely have turned round and boarded the next available flight back to Phoenix, but with Joy by his side he couldn’t. He had to go to Ireland now – not only for himself, but also for her.
She was talking a lot. He realised she was the kind of person that chattered when they were nervous, whereas he clammed up. He liked listening to her, though, as she told him about the little garden she had created and her orange tree. How much she had loved it, all the wildflowers she had painstakingly nurtured. She told him about the day she’d come home to find her husband had cut them all down and put in a pond. She told him how hurt, how angry she still was.
> ‘He betrayed me,’ she said. ‘He must have known how much I loved my orange tree. He went behind my back and he destroyed it.’
Lewis suspected it wasn’t just the tree she was talking about. ‘You should grow another one,’ he said. ‘Start again.’
‘I don’t know if I care to any more.’
Then she told him more about her daughter, Heather, and how she hoped the wedding wouldn’t go ahead.
‘She’s in love with someone else,’ she said but didn’t elaborate.
When she spoke about her son, Ray, her face glowed. To Lewis’s surprise it hurt him a little. He doubted his own mother had ever spoken about him with such pride.
Joy’s voice was a patter of words around him, protecting him from his own sense of unease. What would happen when he took off from American soil? Would he go back in time to his younger self, with all his rage, heartache and desolation? It had begun with that phone call in the restaurant. That long night had changed the whole course of his life, and the truth was that he had buried himself in the routine of typesetting every day because anything slightly more challenging panicked him. He had hidden behind Samantha for over twenty years and immersed himself in her family to somehow make amends for his failings. Now Samantha had given him a gift by walking out on him. She had woken him up. Now he had his chance again.
*
Joy’s head was in a spin, her heart racing. She knew she was talking too much. She must be driving Lewis mad, but she couldn’t shut up. That was until she heard the sea.
She had tried her best to see the ocean through the tiny window but could only make out the glitter of distant lights as they came in to land, the dark shifting shapes of coast and water at night. She had wanted to take Lewis’s hand, but she had held back. She had been all mixed up in her head, bubbling with fear, with the shock of the past twenty-four hours – at seeing Eddie like that with Erin and having the truth crash down around her in that single, awful moment. She’d had no idea. And yet she had always known. For the more she thought about it, the more she remembered.
The Gravity of Love Page 19