The Running Lie

by Jennifer Young

  ‘I love you.’ She took his hand. ‘Garden?’ She couldn’t go back inside yet. They strolled towards the back of the house. ‘By the way, Ken has a soft beard.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ John asked.

  ‘You’re hardly allowed to bristle at that.’

  ‘I just didn’t hear you.’

  ‘Liar.’ Max tickled his ribs, and John laughed and wriggled away from her touch. Victor waved at them, but Emma didn’t look up from her sketch book. ‘I kissed Ken’s cheek once. It wasn’t like what I felt.’

  ‘How old was he?’

  ‘What does that have to do with anything? It was four years ago.’

  ‘All right. Not as an adolescent.’

  ‘No.’ Charlie’s stubble had felt fragile. She sighed.

  ‘Let’s do something—well, the attempt at normalcy didn’t really work, but how about a game of basketball later?’

  Max nodded. ‘I might bring Bobby down to play too. I expected he’d be outside more.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MAX WALKED UP the stairs to the nursery, but she quickened to a run when she heard Bobby crying.

  ‘Will you be ready?’ Catherine asked.

  Catherine? In the nursery? Max pushed open the door, and Bobby’s screams intensified when he saw her. Catherine held him stiffly in her arms as the nanny watched.

  ‘Auntie Max,’ Bobby bellowed, reaching for her as he struggled free from Catherine.

  ‘Fancy seeing you in the nursery,’ Max said, lifting Bobby. He snuggled into her neck, his breathing too fast.

  ‘I like children,’ Catherine said.

  ‘Bobby should be outdoors,’ Max said to the nanny. ‘It’s a beautiful day.’

  ‘He doesn’t want to go.’

  ‘Do you want to come with Aunt Max?’

  Bobby nodded, sucking hard on his thumb.

  ‘Disgusting habit,’ Catherine said.

  ‘Come on, Bobby.’ Max hoisted him higher on her hip. ‘What do you need to be ready for, may I ask?’

  The nanny started.

  ‘The noise, from the fireworks tomorrow night,’ Catherine said. ‘I’ve heard it can frighten children.’

  ‘Very kind of you,’ Max said. She carried Bobby to the stairs, while he clung to her. Halfway down, his body weight sagged and his breathing evened out. Max carried him outside through the formal gardens, and he didn’t wake even with all the commotion of party arrangements. Eventually she reached the back of the stables, where John dribbled a basketball as he talked to Charlie.

  ‘We thought…’ John called, but he stopped when she waved her hand at Bobby. ‘Is he okay?’ John came close.

  ‘Catherine was in the nursery. Asking if…’ Charlie approached and she stopped. ‘Go ahead. I’ll play when he wakes.’

  Max paced back and forth with the sleeping Bobby. Victor and Emma came around the corner, and John talked them into playing too. Emma turned out to be a far superior player to Victor, and Max walked further into the rough grass so Bobby wouldn’t be disturbed by their shouts and laughter. She kissed his curls.

  When Bobby woke, he smiled and asked to get down. Max rolled her shoulders as she followed his little legs racing towards the ball. They stopped the game to play catch with Bobby.

  ‘How did you get so good at this, Emma?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Netball at school.’

  ‘What’s netball?’ John asked.

  ‘Weirdly modified basketball for girls,’ Max said. ‘I’ve never understood it, but Emma’s spectacular.’

  ‘Unsurprisingly,’ Victor said. He rolled the ball to Bobby, who giggled and chattered.

  Victor, Emma and Charlie eventually headed back to the house, but John and Max stayed outside. Bobby reached for their hands, shouting ‘swing’.

  She and John swung him between them. Bobby shrieked with laughter. They could do this with their kids. If John stayed alive that long.

  ‘Would you want to come to North Carolina with me next month?’ John asked. ‘We’d—or at least one of us—probably would need to stay in a hotel. It’s not like here.’

  Bobby let go of her hand and tried to crawl up John’s leg. John scooped him up into his arms, although he didn’t put him on his shoulders.

  ‘John, it wouldn’t have to be.’

  He laughed. ‘I don’t mean grandeur. There wouldn’t be rooms for both of us, and there’s no way in…’ He stopped and lifted Bobby up to see in a tree. ‘My mother certainly wouldn’t let us share. Are there any nests there, Bobby?’

  Bobby crowed something indecipherable and reached pudgy hands out. John brought him back down before he could hurt anything.

  ‘Fair enough.’ If she went, and then they broke up later, it would hurt John. That nice woman in the picture. But maybe seeing John at his home would clarify everything. ‘Okay. I’ll go.’ Enthusiasm, not nerves, should sound in her voice.

  ‘I want to go,’ Bobby said. ‘Where?’

  ‘Oh, darling, your mummy would miss you terribly. And it’s not for ages and ages.’

  ‘No! I want to go.’ He started crying and launched himself at her. He curled into her neck. ‘I want to go.’

  John shook his head. What could he find odd about this? ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, patting Bobby’s back.

  ‘Fine.’

  Max carried Bobby back to the house, although John offered.

  ‘How formal…’ She laughed. ‘I guess I don’t need to plan a wardrobe before we’ve booked tickets.’

  ‘Not very, I think. Maybe you should talk to Sarah directly.’ He smiled. ‘Thanks.’

  Should she ask him to New York to meet her grandparents? Two cars crept up the drive, one her father’s government Austin. John was supposed to go back to London with him on Monday. ‘Who’s in the other car? The guests shouldn’t be here for ages.’

  Her father’s car pulled to a stop by the front door, and the chauffeur opened the back door. Her father emerged, as well as Sir Marcus and Mr Rawls. The extra car discharged Sir Marcus’ men.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ said her father. ‘Goodness, is Bobby this big already? Mr Knox.’ He shook John’s hand and popped a kiss on Max’s cheek. ‘I’m surprised your mother doesn’t have you in a dress.’

  ‘She keeps trying. I didn’t realise you were coming, Uncle Marcus.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never celebrated American Independence, so I thought I’d give it a go. Mr Knox, might we have a moment of your time?’

  ‘Certainly, sir. Now?’

  ‘Let us get inside, perhaps have a moment, and maybe ask for some tea.’ He eyed John. ‘Or coffee.’

  ‘I’ll go clean up then,’ John said.

  ‘John’s been teaching Charlie how to play basketball.’

  ‘I understand you played at university?’ Uncle Marcus asked.

  John nodded.

  ‘You didn’t tell me that,’ Max said.

  Bobby fidgeted. ‘Bobby hungry.’

  ‘I’ll take you up to your lunch, darling. I’ll see you all later.’ Had John’s superiors called Sir Marcus or had John?

  Her father smiled absently, but John followed her up the steps. ‘I love you,’ he whispered. Bobby giggled as John leaned down to kiss her. ‘Do you want me to carry Bobby upstairs?’

  ‘Don’t you need to go have your little chat?’

  John grinned. ‘I’m on vacation.’ Her father and Sir Marcus climbed the steps and brushed past them. ‘And they aren’t my employers.’

  Bobby reached for John, and Max left his weight be lifted from her arms. She stretched. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Together?’

  ‘What about changing?’

  ‘I’ll do it in a minute.’ He pretended to drop Bobby, and the little boy squealed. ‘My own bosses have a lot to say about me talking freely to another set, even if we are friendly.’

  They took Bobby to the nursery, comforting him when he cried again. He cheered up with lunch.

  Max held John’s hand as they walked downstairs. ‘Do y
ou ever wonder if it’s—I’m—worth it?’

  ‘What?’ John asked.

  ‘The hassle. My father, Sir Marcus, my dreadful temper, no straight an…’

  John stopped and kissed her. ‘No. Never. It didn’t even cross my mind.’ He smiled. ‘I have absolutely no doubt you’re worth whatever I have to do.’

  ‘Goodness gracious, I said he was good at impassioned speeches,’ Catherine said. She laughed. ‘But then James Carter had a nice line in impassioned speeches to me, too. It’s so hard to know which version of him to trust, isn’t it, Max darling?’

  ‘That’s utter nonsense,’ John said. His voice was flat and cold.

  ‘I have quite clear memories of you—or James—calling me alluring, and what was it? Yes. Gloriously sensual.’

  John didn’t deny it. Work. Work. It didn’t sound at all like him. ‘What do you want, Catherine?’ Max asked.

  ‘At one point, I quite desired him. Now, of course, I wouldn’t touch him after he’s been mooning all over you.’

  ‘It never bothered you with Daniel.’

  Catherine laughed again. ‘Oh Max, you’re naive. Daniel wanted your money. Your title. He, I actually think, wants you. As mystifying as that is.’

  ‘Will you just leave?’ The words exploded from Max. ‘Why are you even here? Why do you keep hanging around?’

  ‘I was invited.’

  ‘And asked to leave,’ Mother said quietly. ‘A car will be ready at eight on Saturday morning. I expect you and your brother to be in it.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CATHERINE LOOKED STARTLED for once and took three steps backwards, before turning and running downstairs. She brushed past Mother, who stood at the bottom.

  ‘Mother,’ Max said, speaking over John.

  ‘Lady Bartlemas.’

  ‘Stop. Both of you.’ She looked up at John. ‘My husband wants to see you.’

  John didn’t move. ‘Can I explain, please?’

  ‘I assume it’s to do with your actual job?’

  Max inhaled sharply. ‘Did Dad tell you?’

  ‘Of course not. But I know what he and Marcus do, and when they closet themselves with your new beau for ages, and Marcus turns up unannounced again, I am quite capable of putting clues together. Plus, I can imagine no other reason John would be pursuing Catherine.’

  ‘Dad doesn’t know I know.’

  ‘Very well.’ She looked at John. ‘Do you have anything to add?’

  ‘I would never hurt Max. Not deliberately.’

  She nodded. ‘I think Catherine is right about that, at least. Do you think she is dangerous?’

  ‘I don’t know if she’s just annoying or really a threat.’

  ‘Should I ask her to leave before tonight?’

  ‘She’d say she has to pack,’ Max said.

  ‘I suspect it’s fine.’ John’s hand tightened on Max’s. ‘Lady Bartlemas, I didn’t…’

  ‘Go join my husband now, please.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Max clung onto John’s fingers. When he left, she’d have to talk to her mother. He brushed a kiss on her cheek, and then he went down the stairs. Max raised her eyes slowly to her mother’s face, expecting stony disapproval.

  Mother smiled. ‘Well, what are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She looked down again, horrified at the confidences that rose to her lips.

  ‘Come to my bedroom.’

  Max twisted her hands as she followed her mother. Would John have time to wash up? Charlie came out of his room as they approached.

  ‘All right?’ he asked.

  Max nodded. Mother closed it behind them.

  ‘So?’

  ‘He didn’t sleep with her.’ The flush rose from her fingertips, it seemed.

  ‘I wasn’t going to ask.’ She gestured for Max to sit. ‘It seems you were economical with the truth.’

  ‘It wasn’t my secret to tell.’

  ‘I meant about Daniel and Catherine. Who told you? Do you trust them?’

  ‘I found them.’ Would she ever calm enough for the blush to fade?

  ‘Oh, darling. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t tell anybody. Not even Vivian. Or George.’ She looked at the weave of the rug under her plimsolls.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t think I was very sympathetic when you called off the wedding.’

  Max shrugged. ‘I just couldn’t. I didn’t want you to say…’ She took a deep breath. ‘What he said. Everyone did it, and I was being stupid.’

  ‘Darling, I wouldn’t—well, I might have. But not everyone does.’ Mother smiled. ‘I admire your convictions. You’ve told John?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Mother rested her hands on Max’s shoulders. Mother’s perfume cloud enveloped her, like when she was a child. Tears pricked at her eyes.

  ‘I’m sure his job makes things impossibly difficult, but leaving aside my exhortations since you came of age, you should marry him. You love each other. You’ll figure the rest out. I didn’t want to come to England, and…’

  ‘And you stayed for six months and went back to New York till Dad inherited.’

  Mother laughed. ‘As I said, it works out. He could quit. Work for the family. There are enough business interests, either for us here or in the States.’

  ‘He likes his job. And he’d be miserable, and I’d be miserable without archaeology. Where would that leave us?’

  ‘True.’ She lifted Max’s chin. ‘But I think you aren’t admitting part of his allure is the danger. You’ve never liked staid men. However, I have enough long nights wondering when your father will be home, and I know he’s not actually doing the dangerous part. Think about it carefully.’

  ‘I am. I have been.’ She swallowed. ‘I’ve agreed to go to North Carolina with him in August. His sister is getting married.’

  ‘That sounds like a yes to me. Take him to New York, introduce him to your grandparents. Does he know you inherit all that?’

  Max shook her head.

  ‘Good. I always thought Daniel might have been more interested in that land.’ Mother patted her shoulder. ‘John is very different.’

  ‘Thanks, Mother.’ Max hugged her hard. Mother’s body felt frailer than it had the last time she’d embraced her. But how many years had it been now?

  Her mother’s smile shone more brightly than she’d seen since George died.

  Max turned towards the door, and then stopped. ‘Oh, by the way, can I invite an archaeologist and some of her students to the ball tomorrow?’

  ‘I think we already have too many women.’

  ‘The students are Charlie’s age. I thought if we had even a couple of girls here…’

  ‘Yes. God, yes. Anything to distract him from Catherine.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE REST OF the afternoon blurred as guests who would stay for the weekend arrived. John hadn’t emerged from talking to Uncle Marcus and Dad by the time Max went downstairs for cocktails. Max fell into conversation with two women she’d gone to Vassar with, who both now had British husbands.

  ‘Isn’t your mother putting pressure on you to get married? Mine was relentless,’ Lydia said.

  ‘Of course.’ But Mother’s smile when she hugged her…. ‘Are you still painting, Sybil?’

  ‘When I have time. With two kids, it’s… gosh, he’s a dish. Who’s that?’ Sybil stared over Max’s shoulder.

  Max glanced at the door, where John stood scanning the room. He walked towards her.

  ‘You aren’t. Goodness me. Are you seeing him?’ asked Lydia.

  Max nodded. John’s hand brushed her back as he stopped beside her. She smiled up at him. ‘John, these are my friends Sybil Church and Lydia Peebles. We were at Vassar together. Sybil, Lydia, this is John Knox. He works at the newspaper Universal Dispatch.’

  ‘It’s nice to meet you both,’ John said.

  ‘You need a drink,’ Max said. ‘Excuse us.’ She eased John away, aware the wome
n started whispering as soon as they left. ‘Are you okay?’

  John shrugged. ‘Slightly less painful than last time. Who are all these people? I haven’t heard this many American accents since I left the Army.’

  ‘If you’re American in Britain and my mother has ever met you, you’re here. A lot of them I went to school with, or at least their daughters.’

  ‘Is that the US ambassador?’

  ‘Looks like it.’ Her hand tightened on his sleeve. ‘Come meet Brian, Vivian’s husband.’ John lifted a glass as they passed a footman, and Max steered him towards Brian.

  ‘Hello, Max. Hello, Knox.

  John nodded.

  ‘You do know each other?’

  ‘A little,’ John said.

  ‘Why couldn’t you just tell me that, Brian?’ Max asked.

  He shrugged.

  Did he know John socially or because of his real job? ‘Do you have to go back for the Embassy party tomorrow?’

  ‘Given the new baby, I’ve been given permission to stay. With some suggestion that Lady Bartlemas is giving succour to my wife and children to boost her numbers.’

  ‘There is a competition between my mother and the ambassador for guests at the Fourth. That’s why we have drinks the night before—she demands that the ambassador come up and then the poor man has to rush back. Tomorrow is oddly enough lower key.’

  ‘She demands the ambassador comes up?’ Brian laughed. ‘I think my boss would phrase it differently.’

  ‘It’s true though.’

  ‘It… Oh.’ Brian stopped.

  John stiffened beside her, and Max turned. A rotund man spoke to Uncle Marcus.

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘One of my bosses,’ John said. ‘He’s deputy editor of the paper. Timothy Lodge. I didn’t know he would be here. This is the day that just keeps giving.’

  ‘Nor did I,’ said Brian. ‘Shall I keep Max amused while you go check in?’

  ‘I can…’ Max tried not to bristle. Brian clearly didn’t think she knew about John’s job. Was Brian always this terrible at hiding secrets, or did she know him too well?